New Blog is up: www.djiboutijones.com
Go there. Go there now. Read it. Follow it. Link to it. Go on. Head over there. Now.
You might need to re-subscribe to your Google Reader Feed, so far I have been unable to update this.
Goodbye.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Djibouti Jones
The new blog is up and it is called Djibouti Jones.
I went back and forth, back and forth, about what to name it. Part of me still thinks I have chosen poorly, but too late. My name is much more generic and would probably serve me better in the long run but for now, I am a nobody trying to get people to read my stuff.
I figured people are a lot more likely to google 'djibouti' than to google 'Rachel Jones' and even if they did, they wouldn't find this Rachel Jones, there are too many of us out there.
Maybe when I have my bestseller on shelves or Kindles or Nooks, I'll hire someone to start up a webpage for me and use my own name. Alas, I have chosen to go with catchy and current.
I wish I could say I would keep up both blogs because I hate to lose readers during the move, but I know myself and it just won't happen.
Please come on over to the new blog. Please like or follow or join or whatever it is people are supposed to do. Please bring your friends. Maybe I'll send a free Djiboutilicious cookbook to whoever brings those most traffic! I know you are all positively dying for your own copy (that's why I still have so many sitting in boxes around our house).
Sunday, January 8, 2012
New Blog?
I'm thinking of starting a new blog, or at the very least, changing the address of this one to something more catchy than trjonesfamily. The reasons for this are many, but a major one is that I'm trying to break into the publishing world more and more. Part of that process is 'building my brand' and having a more professional or interesting name is one aspect of it.
So...a question...
Would I be better off using my name or something else?
www.rachelpiehjones.com
OR
www.djiboutijones.com
Maybe I won't use either, maybe I won't start a new blog, but I'm interested in your input.
So...a question...
Would I be better off using my name or something else?
www.rachelpiehjones.com
OR
www.djiboutijones.com
Maybe I won't use either, maybe I won't start a new blog, but I'm interested in your input.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas to everyone, a few days late. I took a few days off blogging so I'd have more time to gorge myself. So much food, so much good food, so many firsts...
Downhill skiing with school.
Maggie said, "There weren't that many hard hills. I went down a black diamond."
Ice-skating and hockey on the lake.
Henry said, "That is way funner than I thought it would be."
Ice-fishing.
Lucy said, "Its cold."
Eating, eating, eating.
I guess that wasn't a first, but we reached new heights of sugar-ball-ness. And I have no quotes about it except, "yum."
See you in 2012.
Downhill skiing with school.
Maggie said, "There weren't that many hard hills. I went down a black diamond."
Ice-skating and hockey on the lake.
Henry said, "That is way funner than I thought it would be."
Ice-fishing.
Lucy said, "Its cold."
Eating, eating, eating.
I guess that wasn't a first, but we reached new heights of sugar-ball-ness. And I have no quotes about it except, "yum."
See you in 2012.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
A Muslim Christmas Carol
On Sunday we sang the Christmas carol 'What Child is This?' I am writing about Mary in the Quran for a project and have done months of research on the Islamic view of Mary, or Maryam. Something that has come up repeatedly is one of the titles for Jesus as 'Jesus the son of Mary'. Isa ibn Maryam.
I don't hear either Mary or Jesus referred to that way very often among Christians but it occurs thirteen times in the Quran and the phrase 'Jesus, the Messiah, the son of Mary' is used three times.
This is the only song I can think of that sings about Jesus, the son of Mary. Also, Jesus is referred to in both the Quran and the Bible as the Word of God which appears in verse two of this carol.
So when we sang the song on Sunday, I couldn't help but think that it sounded like a Muslim Christmas song. I'm not saying it is one, or that my Muslim friends would necessarily agree with everything in the song, but it made me think about them, made me think about Djibouti.
And, for the first time since being back this year, I felt a pang in my chest because I miss them. I miss the way Djibouti helps me think and live outside the box of shopping malls and inside deeper realities than fast food restaurants. So I'm posting the lyrics as a reminder of the one who also left one world to live in another for a time, in honor of the one who ached for his eternal home.
I don't hear either Mary or Jesus referred to that way very often among Christians but it occurs thirteen times in the Quran and the phrase 'Jesus, the Messiah, the son of Mary' is used three times.
This is the only song I can think of that sings about Jesus, the son of Mary. Also, Jesus is referred to in both the Quran and the Bible as the Word of God which appears in verse two of this carol.
So when we sang the song on Sunday, I couldn't help but think that it sounded like a Muslim Christmas song. I'm not saying it is one, or that my Muslim friends would necessarily agree with everything in the song, but it made me think about them, made me think about Djibouti.
And, for the first time since being back this year, I felt a pang in my chest because I miss them. I miss the way Djibouti helps me think and live outside the box of shopping malls and inside deeper realities than fast food restaurants. So I'm posting the lyrics as a reminder of the one who also left one world to live in another for a time, in honor of the one who ached for his eternal home.
1. What Child is this who, laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,Whom shepherds guard and Angels sing;Haste, haste, to bring Him laud,The Babe, the Son of Mary.
2. Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good people, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,The cross be borne for me, for you.Hail, hail the Word made flesh,The Babe, the Son of Mary.
3. So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh,
Come peasant, king to own Him;
The King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise a song on high,The virgin sings her lullaby.Joy, joy for Christ is born,The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
What I Loved This Morning
This morning while I was running, I remembered a post from earlier this summer. Tears, how so many little things were moving me to tears. I didn't cry today, but I noticed things and felt the aliveness of living.
My feet are still cold and my nose is still running. But my bottom has warmed up, thankfully. Now I need to go find a fresh croissant from that bakery.
a thin layer of frost sparkling in the pink sunrise
my breath in cloudy puffs in front of me and sweat gathering on my back behind me
the smell of croissants and coffee coming from the Finnish Bakery in St. Anthony Park
a father carrying his toddler son on his shoulders
students walking to campus with their shoulders hunched inside thick winter coats
my fingers, warm and sweaty inside fleece mittens
my chin, icy cold
little drips of snot hanging from the tip of my nose, tickling
squirrels chasing each other up and around a tree trunk
the last remaining snow piles and icy patches
the Emily Program buildings, for people with eating disorders
my cold behind, no butt sweat here
My feet are still cold and my nose is still running. But my bottom has warmed up, thankfully. Now I need to go find a fresh croissant from that bakery.
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Manger Scene
This time of year there are manger scenes everywhere. Images, pictures, statues, figurines, toys...all trying to capture what the first Christmas morning may have looked like. Of course none of them even come close, but looking at the Marys, Josephs, shepherds, animals, the straw and the baby, remind us of what we are celebrating.
And it isn't the shopping mall.
One of the ways life in Djibouti has profoundly changed me is in how I imagine scenes from the Bible. The pictures in my head are not clean, well-groomed, sanitized images.
I bet that the shepherds who came to see Jesus after his birth were missing a lot of teeth. They probably had calloused hands, scrawny bodies and dirty feet.
I imagine swirls of dust and flies swarming the animals and the smell of dung.
I smell the swaddling clothes that Mary wrapped Jesus in and they aren't bleached white, they are torn rags from an old wrap of Mary's.
One winter night a few years ago in Djibouti, we drove by this donkey cart.
I said to Tom, "Minus the modern tires, if you put a pregnant woman in the back of that cart, I would think it was Mary."
The way people live in Djibouti is so much closer to the way people lived in the first century than it is in Minneapolis.
I'm thankful that the manger scene isn't one-dimensional for me anymore. It has smells and tastes and sounds and it feels like scratchy straw and mosquito bites.
And it isn't the shopping mall.
One of the ways life in Djibouti has profoundly changed me is in how I imagine scenes from the Bible. The pictures in my head are not clean, well-groomed, sanitized images.
I bet that the shepherds who came to see Jesus after his birth were missing a lot of teeth. They probably had calloused hands, scrawny bodies and dirty feet.
I imagine swirls of dust and flies swarming the animals and the smell of dung.
I smell the swaddling clothes that Mary wrapped Jesus in and they aren't bleached white, they are torn rags from an old wrap of Mary's.
One winter night a few years ago in Djibouti, we drove by this donkey cart.
I said to Tom, "Minus the modern tires, if you put a pregnant woman in the back of that cart, I would think it was Mary."
The way people live in Djibouti is so much closer to the way people lived in the first century than it is in Minneapolis.
I'm thankful that the manger scene isn't one-dimensional for me anymore. It has smells and tastes and sounds and it feels like scratchy straw and mosquito bites.
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Butterfly Mosque
More about books...
I'm in the middle of The Butterfly Mosque. It is about an American woman my age, raised by atheists, who converts to Islam and moves to Egypt to teach English. While there, she falls in love with and marries an Egyptian man. The book is about her faith journey and her life as a third-culture person, both in physical location and in her choice of religion, post 9/11.
I find it fascinating.
I always enjoy reading about other expatriates and especially expatriates who live in Muslim countries, because that is my life as well. She has deep insights, I don't agree with them all, but she does have a keen eye for culture. I am encouraged to see that other people have similar experiences to mine. I may feel crazy sometimes in Djibouti, but at least I'm not the only one.
About the difference for men and women in Muslim countries:
"I don't think Omar (her Egyptian fiancé) realized this either. The Middle East is one place for men and an entirely different place for women." Tom and I go back and forth on this one and all I have to say is: Yup.
Some thoughts on the veil from the grand mufti of Egypt, whom she interviewed (around the time France was banning the veil):
"In a non-Islamic culture, you are an ambassador of Islam...Our religion teaches that it is bad to isolate yourself from your community...To push them away. It is important to present Islam in a good way, in a way that those around you can understand. Islam is bigger than the veil...If wearing the veil in a non-Muslim country will only bring hostility toward you, don't wear it." She and her fiancé were stunned and inspired by his words. I think many other people would be as well and this statement is an encouragement to me personally, in how to live out my own faith as an ambassador.
Thoughts on the clash of civilizations (when she and a roommate move into a more conservative neighborhood):
"...in close quarters, we over think, second-guessing our own innate assumption of common humanness, which, I now think, boils down to a common need for kindness. We are cruelest to those who remind us of our capacity for cruelness. It was this that made Jo's and my relationship with our neighbors to bitter: it was clear that they did not like who they became around us."
and the reverse:
"I have seen the reverse as well: westerners...whose beliefs are tolerant and broad-minded, find themselves unable to function in a society that requires them to live so conservatively and in such limited circumstances. They are forced to resort to the ruling-race social tactics they hate in order to get by, and then hate the Egyptians for making them hate themselves. This is the heart of the clash of civilizations: not the hatred of the Other, but the self-hatred produced by the Other."
Like I said, I'm only half-way through and it isn't a great idea to write about a book I haven't finished yet. Maybe the next half will be trash. But somehow I doubt it and I thought these were interesting quotes that help me consider my life in Africa.
I'm in the middle of The Butterfly Mosque. It is about an American woman my age, raised by atheists, who converts to Islam and moves to Egypt to teach English. While there, she falls in love with and marries an Egyptian man. The book is about her faith journey and her life as a third-culture person, both in physical location and in her choice of religion, post 9/11.
I find it fascinating.
I always enjoy reading about other expatriates and especially expatriates who live in Muslim countries, because that is my life as well. She has deep insights, I don't agree with them all, but she does have a keen eye for culture. I am encouraged to see that other people have similar experiences to mine. I may feel crazy sometimes in Djibouti, but at least I'm not the only one.
About the difference for men and women in Muslim countries:
"I don't think Omar (her Egyptian fiancé) realized this either. The Middle East is one place for men and an entirely different place for women." Tom and I go back and forth on this one and all I have to say is: Yup.
Some thoughts on the veil from the grand mufti of Egypt, whom she interviewed (around the time France was banning the veil):
"In a non-Islamic culture, you are an ambassador of Islam...Our religion teaches that it is bad to isolate yourself from your community...To push them away. It is important to present Islam in a good way, in a way that those around you can understand. Islam is bigger than the veil...If wearing the veil in a non-Muslim country will only bring hostility toward you, don't wear it." She and her fiancé were stunned and inspired by his words. I think many other people would be as well and this statement is an encouragement to me personally, in how to live out my own faith as an ambassador.
Thoughts on the clash of civilizations (when she and a roommate move into a more conservative neighborhood):
"...in close quarters, we over think, second-guessing our own innate assumption of common humanness, which, I now think, boils down to a common need for kindness. We are cruelest to those who remind us of our capacity for cruelness. It was this that made Jo's and my relationship with our neighbors to bitter: it was clear that they did not like who they became around us."
and the reverse:
"I have seen the reverse as well: westerners...whose beliefs are tolerant and broad-minded, find themselves unable to function in a society that requires them to live so conservatively and in such limited circumstances. They are forced to resort to the ruling-race social tactics they hate in order to get by, and then hate the Egyptians for making them hate themselves. This is the heart of the clash of civilizations: not the hatred of the Other, but the self-hatred produced by the Other."
Like I said, I'm only half-way through and it isn't a great idea to write about a book I haven't finished yet. Maybe the next half will be trash. But somehow I doubt it and I thought these were interesting quotes that help me consider my life in Africa.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Book Loves
I love talking books. Love, love it.
I have looked at a few self-published books and a variety of traditionally published books and compared them.
I have looked at a few self-published books and a variety of traditionally published books and compared them.
How do the covers look? Feel? How is the back designed? What is the font and paragraph structure? How do you tell the difference between books?
According to parapublishing.com, potential buyers spend eight seconds looking at the front cover and fifteen seconds looking at the back cover of a book. That gives twenty-three seconds to convince someone to buy your book.
What draws you in? What makes you put a book back on the shelf?
What draws you in? What makes you put a book back on the shelf?
Later, I got to talk about books with friends and I mentioned goodreads.com, which they hadn't heard of so I figured I'd show you the link. If you love to read, love to write, love to talk about books or see what other people are reading, check it out.
Right now I am reading:
The Butterfly Mosque by G. Willow Wilson
Lord of the Flies (to the kids) by William Golding
Evolving in Monkey Town by Rachel Held Evans
Runner's World magazine
What are you reading?
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Surviving Winter
Henry, Maggie and Lucy are disappointed that the snow has all melted. Although they cry when their fingers and toes hurt from cold and refuse to get out of the car for the bus in the morning, they love winter. They even forget their coats half the time.
I am also enjoying winter so far and have come up with some survival tips for myself.
1. Candles. We burn candles almost around the clock for the extra light.
2. Long underwear.
3. Three or four long-sleeve shirts or sweaters, plus a fleece.
4. Feather comforter and flannel comforter.
5. Socks, then wool socks, then slippers, then wrapped up in a blanket.
6. Running at noon. I had never considered this before. As a runner who began in the hottest country on earth, the only reasonable time for a run was between 5-7 a.m. Now I can go at noon and sleep in, how novel!
7. The decision to enjoy and not complain about the weather.
8. Lots of hand lotion.
Do you have other tips for the Djibouti Joneses?
I am also enjoying winter so far and have come up with some survival tips for myself.
1. Candles. We burn candles almost around the clock for the extra light.
2. Long underwear.
3. Three or four long-sleeve shirts or sweaters, plus a fleece.
4. Feather comforter and flannel comforter.
5. Socks, then wool socks, then slippers, then wrapped up in a blanket.
6. Running at noon. I had never considered this before. As a runner who began in the hottest country on earth, the only reasonable time for a run was between 5-7 a.m. Now I can go at noon and sleep in, how novel!
7. The decision to enjoy and not complain about the weather.
8. Lots of hand lotion.
Do you have other tips for the Djibouti Joneses?
Monday, December 12, 2011
Poet Nation
Read the latest update to my fiction series at The Poet Nation.
There was a hiatus in updating the episodes while some of the people from Poet Nation visited refugee camps in Kenya. They delivered food aid and offered hope and encouragement to the people suffering from famine. Which is, I suppose, a worthy excuse for the delay!
But if you are following the story, there are a few new episodes up, so check them out.
There was a hiatus in updating the episodes while some of the people from Poet Nation visited refugee camps in Kenya. They delivered food aid and offered hope and encouragement to the people suffering from famine. Which is, I suppose, a worthy excuse for the delay!
But if you are following the story, there are a few new episodes up, so check them out.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Music to Run By
I love to run on silent, with audiobooks and with music. In Djibouti, I run with earbuds in but they'll be on silent, I just want people to think I can't hear what they yell. In MN I don't need to do that, so if they're in, they're on.
The best silence to run to is snow-crunching and leaf-crunching.
The best audiobooks to run to are memoirs. If I space out for a few minutes or don't listen for a few days, fiction and non-memoir-type non-fiction are too hard to remember and follow.
The best music to run by is Natalie MacMaster. Well, I have a lot of other faves too, but she is amazing. She's a fiddler from Cape Breton (in Canada, where people say 'house' and 'out' even goofier than Minnesotans). No singing or words dictating what you're supposed to feel or how pumped up you're supposed to get, just pure, unadulterated jig. If my feet could fly as fast as her bow and fingers, I'd be an Olympic gold medalist. I went to her concert last night near St. Cloud and woke up a few times during the night with my toes tapping the multiple layers of blankets on the bed.
What's playing on your iPod, iPhone, MP3 player, radio, pandora, record player(!)?
The best silence to run to is snow-crunching and leaf-crunching.
The best audiobooks to run to are memoirs. If I space out for a few minutes or don't listen for a few days, fiction and non-memoir-type non-fiction are too hard to remember and follow.
The best music to run by is Natalie MacMaster. Well, I have a lot of other faves too, but she is amazing. She's a fiddler from Cape Breton (in Canada, where people say 'house' and 'out' even goofier than Minnesotans). No singing or words dictating what you're supposed to feel or how pumped up you're supposed to get, just pure, unadulterated jig. If my feet could fly as fast as her bow and fingers, I'd be an Olympic gold medalist. I went to her concert last night near St. Cloud and woke up a few times during the night with my toes tapping the multiple layers of blankets on the bed.
What's playing on your iPod, iPhone, MP3 player, radio, pandora, record player(!)?
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