Hatyai City: A Word from the Streets

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My name is Jessi Ottenhof. I live in Hatyai (city), Thailand. I work with the street kids in the slum district – our children’s center “The Rock” has been open for nearly 8 years. Kids come from the tin villiages to eat, bathe, learn english and play in safety.

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To learn more about the Rock and ministry in the slums, you can visit our page at https://www.facebook.com/therockbaansila for videos, photos and news.

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            Right now there are only two full-time workers at the Rock. Pii Tak is a Thai woman who is incredibly gifted with teaching arts and crafts. I teach English. Together we are working against the corruption and neglect of the slum life, hoping to a build a foundation of love and Christ for the kids to live on.11146266_702628906526954_2536470204679938869_n

         We have vision to expand our ministry to other communities, to more kids who need to know that Christ cares. But at the moment, niether of us is fully funded. Unless we can find people to stand in the gap with us, we will have to cut from our time with the kids to work paying jobs.

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These street kids are often absent from school. Thier parents are abusive, away working all day, or in jail – so the kids wander the streets unwatched. They are at risk of being trafficked or falling into crime. If they don’t have somewhere safe to go, there are a hundred dangerous alternatives.

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Pii Tak and I are trying to raise a minimum of $500 every month for each of us. The amount will go to basic needs, housing and transportation, enabling us to focus full-time on the kids. For more information on how you can become involved or how to donate, please contact me directly at jessicaottenhof@gmail.com

For Tax-deductable donations, checks can be sent to:

YWAM

P.O. Box  3000

Garden Valley, TX

75771-3000

             So they can process it, the check should be made out to YWAM – with a separate note “For Jessi Ottenhof”. They can’t process it if my name is on the actual check.  For direct deposit information, please email me at the above gmail address.

Giant Problems

            Being a Christian means coming across a lot of Goliath-sized problems that stand in the road and laugh at you. People’s hopelessness, distrust, superstition… or your own fears, doubts and loneliness can slow you down or trip you up.

Looks a little like a game of Chicken. "You aren't getting past us!" is their favorite taunt.
Looks a little like a game of Chicken. “You aren’t getting past us!” is their favorite taunt.

I’m still learning to have the right attitude about these roadblocks. My first reaction is usually to wait for it to move out of the way. It can be a bad habit to just stare up at that mountainous problem until I get a cramp in my neck.

Intimidating, eh?
Intimidating, eh?

When it finally dawns on me that this thing is not moving, I come to option two – walk around it. This seems like a brilliant idea, until it comes back to bite me in the… well let’s just say that it doesn’t do any good to show your backside to the enemy.

Teeth. Just sayin'
Teeth. Just sayin’

And the third tactic is usually the one I should have turned to in the first place: meet the problem head-on.  We don’t have to wait on the problem to move, we don’t have to walk around it. When God is with us, the giants can’t stand against us….and they know it!

This is a gaint realizing that his power is about as real as Santa Claus.
This is a giant realizing that his power is about as real as Santa Claus.

So, I hope this encourages you today.  Our giants may look different, but we all have to face them in the same way.

                That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God. – 1 Corinthian 2:5

Yellow Trees,White People

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“Is there something wrong with this one?” Mom eyed the strange yellow palm tree with concern. The shopkeeper nearly tapped her foot with impatience.

“It’s a good tree.” The woman said shortly.

The local “Plant shop” in Thailand is really just a stretch of sidewalk along the main road. Tattered plastic tarpaulin was supposed to keep off the sun, but really just trapped hot air underneath.
In the sweltering heat, we found the lady who owned the place sitting in the back next to a miniature fan. We described what we were looking for in gestures and she pulled out her last two potted palm trees for us.

We needed two palms, one for each side of our office door. But one of the trees was green and the other was getting yellow in the fronds. Mom was worried it wasn’t going to last long.

“What do you think?” Mom asked.

I just shrugged. It looked alright to me, but I didn’t exactly have a green thumb.

Mom asked the woman again. “Why is it yellow?”

Exasperated, the lady threw her hands up and said, “I don’t know! I don’t know why some trees are yellow.” Then she mumbled, “I don’t know why some people are white.”

I busted out laughing. The lady looked fiercely at me and said, “This is a good tree!” And there was something in the way she said it that struck me.

I’d never really thought too deep about the whole “a tree is known by it’s fruit” thing.  Growing up, I thought it was a warning: ‘if you’ve got a bad attitude, people will see it’ sorta thing. But now it means something different…and it gives me hope.

To me, it means that people can recognize God’s love even if it comes from a total stranger.  In my cross-cultural life, it gives me hope to think that people can see past the clumsy things I say or do to see the meaning behind it.

The Shopkeeper honestly didn’t know why some trees were yellow (or why some people were white)… but she knew a good plant when she saw one.

The yellow tree still sits outside our office, where it continues to flourish against all odds.

Voice Like Thunder

        aslan (1)

          I have always been a vivid dreamer, but what I saw that night was more than a dream…it was a promise. God laid the groundwork of my mission and my heart for the kids that night.

         This dream came at a rough patch. I had already started working with the street kids; every day they came with more unexplained scratches and bruises. Most of them hadn’t eaten, and some of the youngest were toting their baby siblings on their hips.

         And what could I do? Showers, band-aids, hot noodles and stories don’t always seem like much to combat the neglect these kids face at home. I had a sinking feeling it was just too big of a battle for me. That night, I fell asleep worrying.

         I dreamt I was sitting out front of my house. The beer bottle recycle plant next door was making good business, so when a large covered truck rumbled up to my front porch, I simply thought they had the wrong house.

         I stood to give them directions. There was a grim look on the gritty faces of the two men climbing from the cab. They were weighing me with cold eyes. Somehow, I realized they were carrying more than old bottles.

         I told them to open the truck – so afraid of what I would find that my voice came out in a whisper. Like dead men walking, they pulled back the canvas as I stood at the tailgate holding my breath.

         There were children in the back of that truck! A mass of frightened bodies were huddled in the darkest corner of the truck bed. Terrified eyes blinked in the darkness. I understood then. These men were selling lost or stolen kids.

         In that moment, it didn’t matter that I was just one foreign young woman. I prepared to do whatever it took to get these kids away from those men and safely into my house. I was ready to battle for the lives of the children.

        “They are mine!” A thunderous voice in my soul seemed to come out of my mouth. It was a sound too big for me. (I’m only 5’something) The men froze. Then, without a word, they began to hand me the children one by one.

        I woke up feeling shaken – in the best way. God was in me, and those kids were His. All I had to do was to be ready and willing; to open my mouth, and He would do the talking. He is not a tame lion…He’s a force to be reckoned with!

              “At this my heart pounds
                     and leaps from its place.
               Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice,
                     to the rumbling that comes from his mouth.
               He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven
                     and sends it to the ends of the earth.
               After that comes the sound of his roar;
                      he thunders with his majestic voice.
               When his voice resounds,
                      he holds nothing back.
               God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways;
                      he does great things beyond our understanding.”
                                                    Job 37:1-5 (NIV)

 

What Happens When I Go Off-Radar…

Mystery

I really should have been a CIA agent. When I enter a new season in life or get confronted with a new project, I tend to go off-radar where my friends and family are concerned. The radio silences can stretch on for months. I hope you can forgive me and don’t mind when I pop up somewhere unexpected.

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My mission for the past 8 months was to train in more forms of storytelling and to hone my writing skills. I’ll be honest, when the year started I had no idea what that would look like – but I buckled up and flew to the exotic land of Texas to pursue these goals.

Tardis

 

In short, here’s what I’ve been up to…

• Staffed the 2014 Woodcrest Writing School
• Began Writing a Book
• Trained to be a Bible Storyteller to Oral Learning Cultures
• Edited 2 books
• Enjoyed networking and fellowship

So, there it is…8 months of ninja-like silence finally declassified! If you’d like to know more about it, further details are at the end of this post.

The pen is mightier than the sword. (Especially if you're a ninja.)
The pen is mightier than the sword. (Especially if you’re a ninja.)

I am starting to see God’s design in all this. Some of the projects I’m working on have a direct link to working with the street kids in Thailand. I will be going back in November.

I am becoming uniquely qualified to work as a caregiver, storyteller, and net-worker for the ministry. Right now, I’m on a quest to find people who will financially back me so I can work full-time with the kids.

Canera

The total I need to raise is $1,750 per month to cover ALL expenses, including continued training. Please consider committing to a monthly contribution!

Checks can be sent to:

YWAM, PO Box 3000,
Garden Valley, TX
75771-3000
(Note: Please make a separate note with my name on it. My name cannot appear on the check itself.)

Thanks for your prayers and patience!
God bless,
Jessi

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                                                                             More of the details:

Staffed the 2014 Woodcrest Writing School – got to sit in on the lectures while also getting feed-back on my writing from teachers and students alike. Also learned the avenues for getting published, which is somewhere in the near future…which brings me to item 2.

Scolding

Began Writing a Book – “Quite Normal” (working title) is my story of working with the street kids in the red-light district of Thailand…includes kid shenanigans, God’s incredible timing, illegal refugees, a felony and the test of faith.

Beginning of the day...
Beginning of the day…

 

...End of the day.
…End of the day.

Trained to be a Bible Storyteller to Oral Learning Cultures – I have joined a group of storytellers who specialize in bringing the good news to those who don’t or can’t read. I took their basic training in early May. (For more information, see http://ywamonestory.org/ )

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Edited 2 Books – While honing my writing skills, I’ve also been helping others to hone theirs. Editing is more than grammar checking, though. “You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what’s burning inside you, and we edit to let the fire show through the smoke.” – Arthur Plotnik

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Networking and Fellowship – Woodcrest (where I’m staying, see www.ywamwoodcrest.com) is surrounded by other ministries – it has been great to meet new people working in different areas and to be able to share my stories with them. I also joined a women’s Bible study for the first time. This is an outing to the zoo with my friends from the YWAM Woodcrest base.

Fellowship                         If you have any comments, questions, advice, or would like to receive my newsletters (erratic but printable!) send me a message at jessicaottenhof at gmail.com … I would love to hear from you!

 

Surviving a Lunch in Asia

I’ve done it now!  I thought to myself. Sitting in an Asian restaurant and hemmed in on all sides by laughing and chattering Koreans, I knew quite well who the odd duck out was. I was a very intimidated American who couldn’t speak Korean and in fact could barely wield a pair of chopsticks.

Survive

But when the boisterous outreach group had swept through the missions office, somehow I was carried with them, around the corner to the nearest Asian restaurant.  The Korean chitchat flew over my head. For the most part, I sat looking doubtfully at a pair of chopsticks, wondering whether if I kept putting food in my mouth, would it excuse me from the conversation?

Cheeky

                     It turned out to be one of the most interesting meals I’ve had in a long time… we had some good laughs as I tried to keep up with the culture.  Here are some of the things I learned.

1.      Smile and Laugh

Smile

All multi-language lunches will have stretches of silence, but this is usually a pleasant pause in conversation… not a condemnation. If you feel that you may have caused a negative silence by something you’ve done – learn to smile and laugh. If you find people are laughing at you, know that they do it out of commiseration – they are trying to make the moment less awkward by laughter.

2.      If You Need a Fork… Ask for One.

Need

I remember trying to brave out a lunch with a pair of chopsticks. After looking to make sure no one was watching, I would stab the food with a chopstick and quickly pop it into my mouth.

Fork

Once, when I missed my aim, I lost a fish-meat ball under the table. There was a humiliating pause before the host (laughing to defuse the embarrassment) asked a passing waiter for a fork.  I learned not to be foolish – I was trying too hard to fit in, and had to learn to be comfortable being the odd duck out.

3.      Respect the “Unidentifiable” Food

Respect

It is inevitable that in an Asian lunch you will come across a dish that may cause you to recoil. Be it a strange color, texture or ingredient you feel you couldn’t possibly swallow it. In fact, you may not be able to identify the ingredients. Try not to dwell on it –take a small portion and move on. If my Asian little sister can overcome her horror of oatmeal, then I can survive a strange curry with grace.

                                   

4.     Rice

Rice

When in doubt about the food set before you, take plenty of rice.  Rice cures hunger and dampens the fires of spicy dishes better than ice water. It is your best defense against the “Unidentifiable” food.

 5.      Don’t Compare Food

Don't compare

Each culture is fiercely proud of their culinary arts, and will defend their recipes. Even should a humble Korean rice porridge resemble a dish you’ve eaten in Thailand, for heaven’s sake do not say this out loud. Out will come the disarming laughter and there will go your calm and composure.

 

6.      Let go of Personal Space

Personal Space

In Asia, a person will often take food off his plate and share it with the group. You may find food being passed around like playing cards. Let got of the idea that your plate is your territory – use this custom to your advantage by passing on your “unidentifiable” food.

7.      Don’t Stop Eating

Don't Stop Eating

Once the meal starts, everyone will continue to eat until the host stops or until the food is gone. Whenever I stopped eating in that first fateful lunch, the Korean conversation would screech to a halt.  Up and down the table people would look at me in concern. Cries of “Eat, eat!”, “you are too thin!”, “don’t you like the food?” and “Here, have some of my noodles!” rang in my ears until I took up my fork and pressed on.

8.      Enjoy the Moment

Enjoy

Know that a multi-cultural lunch is not a timed affair, but a timeless memory. Time is measured differently in Asia…I’ve been to lunches that have lasted over 2 hours long! But with full stomachs and the satisfaction of each other’s company, it will be a long time before anyone moves toward the door. Learn to slow down and enjoy the moment.

 

        When you’ve been invited to a multi-cultural lunch, know that you’ve been invited to share in an art form.

                                         Culture

        I hope that you enjoy your next adventure,  whatever cultures you may find on your plate.

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Ah, the fountain pen of youth!