Gugu

Meet Gugu.



Gugu Sibanda is 22 years old, and lives with her three sisters, two brothers, a niece, a friend, and the friend's daughter in her parents’ home. Her father died in 2003 and her mother in early 2006. Gugu finished high school in 2005 and began work as a hairdresser to help the family during her mother’s illness. She is a lead singer in her church choir and taught Better Choices in the Masoyi Youth Program for a number of years.

Gugu just got accepted into the University of Limpopo to study Social Work. This is her heart:

I want to be a social worker to encourage change in my community. I want to help all those in need: Orphans, vulnerable children, and abused women and children. I have seen that many people are suffering in my country. I want to take care of the orphans and register them for grants. I want to make sure that their grants are used for their needs, and not for anyone else’s. When people come to me for help, I want to be able to help them and to advise them to get tested for HIV/AIDS, because HIV/AIDS kills too many people in our community. There are many orphans and street kids because of this killer disease.
As a social worker I can get into schools to advise the youth about HIV/AIDS. I know that they will listen to me when I talk to them- and if two or three can take my advice and get tested for HIV/AIDS, that would be worth it.
In Masoyi many people, especially the youth, need to understand that HIV/AIDS is real. There are still youth who do not believe that it is a reality. I want to bring awareness and truth around HIV/AIDS. Some youth believe that you can only get HIV/AIDS from having many partners; they do not know that even if you have one partner you are at risk of getting HIV/AIDS. The youth trust people who are not faithful to them. They just listen to people when they tell them they love them, especially the girls. This causes the spread of HIV/AIDS more and more. Other girls use their bodies to get money to buy alcohol at the bottle store, or they go there and get drunk and sleep with anyone.
I knew one girl who slept with four boys in one night. I asked her why she did that and she said because she was drunk. I as a person who cares about other people, told that girl that it is better to leave alcohol and do something that can keep her busy, like go to church choir practise on Saturday, or join any organization
Many people believe lies about HIV/AIDS, and they try to convince others. I want to educate people, so they know the truth about HIV/AIDS.

The end of the year has come

Well, last week Tuesday was our last day of official classes. Darryl taught class in the morning and then we had a party for the After School students afterwards. The party was interesting, fun, but also pretty disappointing. I had to use my teacher voice. Sometimes I forget that these kids are kids and I can't expect them to be super-students because they have very little. They can still be greedy, still be whiny, still be unappreciative. We had a good time, but there were glimpses of frustration in dealing with my own conception of the students.

We wrapped up the bridging classes with three things: Darryl's intense leadership series using one of John Maxwell's books, a research essay complete with citing and typing on our "new" computers, job shadowing, and the closing interviews. The interviews were incredible; the entire time I couldn't stop thinking how much I love these students and how honoured I feel being a part of their life.

On Saturday we had the graduation ceremony for the students. The students all bought a nice little outfit (compliments of the budget) so they can feel special on their special day and take pride in being the center of attention. The theme of the grad was "Bearing fruit" because it's really been on my heart (as one of the previous blogs showed), it had an impact on the students when I shared it in class, and because it seems appropriate now as they fly on their own, they must bear fruit. "This is to my father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples" John 15:8.

I couldn't believe how fancy the students were. The guys were dressed appropriately, wearing slacks and nice shirts and ties. Elvis even wore tan khaki pants, a baby blue shirt, and a baby blue and white argyle sweater vest over top. He was adorable! The girls though. ooooWOW. They had on the fanciest grad dresses ever and got their hair done the morning before at the "Saloon". (For some reason they call it a saloon here ... I tried to explain that a saloon is a tavern for cowboys). It was a beautiful beautiful day. I was so stressed, especially the day of. I woke up not wanting to go. As I got things set up, I got more and more excited. But then we didn't start for an hour after the time it was supposed to start. Africa. The students were about a half hour late arriving and THEN as soon as they arrived, the girls weren't even in their dresses. Africa.

But they got dressed and we walked down the aisle (to my least favourite song, the keeps bleeding keeps keeps bleeding song) like stars, everyone ululating. We had many guest speakers, encouraging the students and Darryl and I handed out certificates, sharing with all their family and friends what it is that makes each of these students so incredible. Mxolisi and Elvis were the student-appointed Valedictorians and so each delivered a speech. Sesinyana's brother, Surprise, surprised us with a really sweet dance. I've never seen anyone dance so sweet. Man it was awesome. Then after the grad, we (including one family member each of the students' choice) went to our place, prepared and ate a bazillion pizzas, watched Sister Act 2 and Mr. Bones and had a sleepover. In the morning we cooked French Toast then shipped them off. Sigh.

Now, I'd like to go through and talk about each student:

Mxolisi
He is one of the students I worried about. He isn't very strong academically and didn't get good results when he upgraded, so it didn't leave him with many options. But this is the man of love. Every time he preached, it was on love and how love is everything. He inspired Darryl and I tremendously and really challenged us to examine what we rooted everything in. His dream is to be a doctor. After he didn't have the marks for it, he wanted to be a nurse. The reason for this is because he's been to many clinics and has seen doctors and nurses treating the patients poorly. He says they would get angry at them and yell at them. This hurts him deeply and wants to nurse people to health with not only medicine, but love. Darryl and I didn't know how this would happen, as his marks and academic capabilities do not reflect what is needed to study medicine. But, God knows the desires of our hearts. I set Mxolisi up with Acts Hospice. Acts Clinic is one of the best Aids clinics in the world and is situated right across the road from us. The hospice, however, is in the community of Masoyi. So Mxolisi went and job shadowed there. He made beds, he bathed patients, he did paper work. It was incredible. And they loved him and have asked for him to return. So he has been returning. This is an incredible opportunity and we're hoping something will come of it. He went back one day to discover a couple of the patients he was nursing had died. I asked if it bothered him and he said it's sad, but the work requires a strong heart and lots of love and he strongly believes he possesses that.

Nokuzola
Nokuzola is an incredibly bright student, although her high school marks don't reflect it. Her grade 12 year found her mourning the death of her mother and taking on new responsibilities, like parenting her sister. She is a very well-grounded girl. She is solid in her faith and the joy that stems from this radiates from her face. She is absolutely beautiful. Her dream is to be a social worker. She qualified for a Social Auxiliary Work program at a small training institute called Zigna. We applied and she got accepted, just last week actually. She has been deeply challenged by Proverbs 30:8-9 and really challenged the rest of us with it also. God has placed this on her heart and she wants to advocate on behalf of those that cannot. There is a law in South Africa that allows girls as young as 12 to legally get abortions and this troubles her deeply. She feels that it only encourages young girls to be sexually active. She has a vision of starting a women's forum and challenging the government to have this changed. A big, but admirable vision.


Elvis
This man is incredible. He just turned 19 but has a hunger for wisdom I haven't seen in anyone that young and God really has blessed him with wisdom. He is a really good listener. He wants to grow and learn and knows the best way to do this is to listen and take correction. In return, he has experienced much growth. It was hard to imagine this because when I first met him I was so impressed that I wasn't sure where he could go from there. But man did he go. He also wants to be a Social Worker and this is a little closer to possible for him because he graduated with Exemption (the bare minimum level of distinction in order to apply for university). He applied to University of Limpopo and University of Venda. We're still waiting back to hear. We asked him what his vision was, what really makes his heart pound and he says he wants to be someone of influence. He sees what is happening in the community and desperately wants to change attitudes. He gave examples of women marrying men without love and how that is the reason for marriages breaking down and people sleeping around. He also discussed people attitudes regarding entitlement. He mentioned that his people just feel that they should receive handouts all the time. They see white people as being rich and feel that the white people should just give to them. He wants to loudly express that people have to work hard to get what they desire. He understands that in order for people to listen to him, he needs to be known and credible. This is why he wants to study. We asked what he will do if he doesn't get accepted into University this year. He says he will study. We ask what if there is no way he can study. He says he will study. This is Elvis. He wants to study.

Sesinyana
I've spoken a lot about Sesinyana, just because I think so highly of her. This girl has the biggest heart for the fatherless. Seriously, every time I go to her house, she has at least 5 kids sitting around visiting with her. She attracts children. She is safe and her home is safe place for them. She listens to them and shows them they are valued. She told me one day that every time she meets a new orphans, it motivates her. I'm not sure exactly what this means, but I think it's huge. We offered her the chance to be a volunteer at Hands at Work. Her heart and her vision is in line with the vision of Hands. She wants to reach out to the poor and fatherless, and as do we. She is a strong leader and her faith and strength prove her to be richer in character than many others. This is a huge leap of faith for her and for us. We don't have the funds to support her right now, but we are trusting people will want to support her in this. She has the capacity to make a huge impact not only in the communities we work in, but even in our own little community. It's going to be a huge challenge for her and a huge challenge for us, but it is so exciting. That is what Forward is all about. We cast the biblical mandate of reaching the poorest of the poor and raise them up as African leaders, empowering them to make an impact. We're hoping she accepts, but honestly I am so confident that she will make a huge impact on the fatherless no matter what. It is where her heart is and if there is one thing about Sesinyana, it's that the fire in her heart can never be taken from her.

Thapelo
This guy is the funniest. He's always dancing and singing. He likes to think he's Usher and every time he does his little smooth moves, I just can't contain the laughter... nor can I refrain from copying. Unfortunately, Thapelo didn't pass Grade 12 and when he upgraded, his results got lost in the system. It's been a huge struggle all year for him and for us. He wants to be an Engineer but without Grade 12, it's nearly impossible. Maybe it's safe to say it is impossible. Thapelo's heart is also in teaching about HIV/AIDS. He says the schools aren't doing a good enough job because girls are still getting Sugar Daddies and falling pregnant and people are still contracting the virus. Lifestyles are NOT changing. He would like to work with the schools and help them to teach it better. Coming from a very poor background, being orphaned, and knowing what kids do these days, he would be able to add a lot.

Mduduzi
He has a very quiet and humble spirit. He's someone everyone in the class admires and appreciates. My favourite thing about him is his smile. His smile is HUGE and it honestly raises the spirits of everyone around him. You can spot him from very far away because all you can see is white. He has a passion for agriculture and has recently applied to Lowveld College of Agriculture. He doesn't dance like the other guys, but once in a while he'll bust a move and it is the funniest thing in the world. Mduduzi improved tremendously academically. His work went from incomprehensible to strong and clear. At the interview, he expressed his new and deep relationship with God. He had a relationship with God before but now

Patricia
Patricia rules. She calls me "Make" (Mother) and I return the term of endearment. She is so passionate and very vocal about it. She is a voice for her people. She is not scared to speak up about what is happening to her people and she is not scared to address her people about the issues. Her heart is with orphans. She got accepted to Zigna as well with Zola and will be training come January to be a Social Auxiliary Worker. Her dream is to have a place like Masoyi Home-based Care. She loves to hear children laughing and playing. She talks about how these kids (like her once and still now) go to school or the care center all day and then go home only wishing that it was morning again so they could be away from home and back in school laughing with friends and feeling fearless. During the interview we asked what she will do if she doesn't get into Zigna. She said she will volunteer at Masoyi Home-based Care because she does not want to see it fall. I asked how she would manage living if she's volunteering, and if her aunt would support her just volunteering instead of getting a job. She says her aunt barely supports her now and she's surviving. She'll find a way to survive.

My heart will remain with these guys forever.

PS - I have a rip-roaring sunburn. The sun punished me good.
PPS - Hi Jon.

Zim.

I have been fascinated by the country of Zimbabwe. This fascination isn't your usual positive, exciting and uplifting fascination, but moreso I'm bombarded with question after question and my heart can't stop aching when hearing story after story.

Right now there is a Cholera outbreak. It is estimated that 1.4 million people are at risk of losing their lives. This is unbelievable. And especially with the rainy season coming on, excess water flow allows for water to be contaminated much easier.

The real crisis and what worsens this situation is the state of the health system. Government hospitals have been forced to shut down due to lack of funds for drugs, equipment or staff. People have nowhere to go to receive health care. They literally have to go buy medicine (which is unbelievably expensive) and wander around until they find a doctor to come into their home to administer it and treat them. Either that or wait and die in their homes.

And I need not to mention what effect this has on the already escalating Aids epidemic.


Please pray for Zim.


My friend, Jean Aimee wrote briefly about the diamond situation in Zim.
http://wivafrica.blogspot.com/2008/11/diamonds-for-goat.html

Lesotho

I had a great weekend in Lesotho with Brooke, Jed, and Marc. Lesotho is a mountainous country within South Africa. The landscape was stunning and the culture of the Besotho people was fascinating.



We had a Cultural Tour and even embarked on a three hour pony trek through the mountains. Our ponies each had interesting personalities and so acquired names. Mine was named Cliff and I swore if he continued being a big jerk I would turn his name into his fate. Marc named his Mare Quimby. Clever. And Jed named Brooke's Zigzag McGee because her horse was so ridiculous with it's zig-zagging. Even when the ground was nearly level. It was totally unnecessary and very funny.



The people are very isolated high in the mountains. The villages are very small, but there are many scattered throughout the mountains.



The land is full of sheep and goats grazing and men shepherding them. We crossed paths with one man sitting on his horse, holding a lamb.



The shepherds walk long distances on foot with a stick or sit on a horse wearing a bellaclava-like hat and a blanket wrapped around them. I love the blankets they where and thinking about them trekking all around those mountains wrapped in blankets.



But the life is hard, and having a "guided tour" of the village we were in was really hard to handle as it glossed over the hardships very well, portraying the culture as cute. Being in a community everyday and understanding the issues within these sort of communities makes going on a touristy tour very tough. I didn't really know how to react to the blanketing of the issues.


(The family we stayed a night with)

Each family has their own field and eats only what they grow. Subsistence farming is their way of life. And if it's a bad season (like this year) they will have no food and so begin rationing the food they do have very early on. What really got me was the water situation. I asked the tour guide where they fetch water (because I noticed the river to be very dirty, especially with so many animals around) and she said from fresh little streams from the top of the mountain. The sad thing is that even on a three hour pony trek around and up and down I saw no such streams. And even if there were, the mountains are so steep I can't imagine what type of task it would be to fetch water or how far one would have to climb in order to get water the animals haven't gotten to yet.



The cleanliness of the children was, I believe, reflected in this. They were so dirty. And it's not like I think a dirty child is bad. They play and they get dirty, but African people are quite clean and the children are bathed daily. These kids were not, so the acquisition of water is obviously an issue. And this especially becomes an issue when the children are bottomless (like most of these ones were). The boys seriously did not wear pants. I don't understand why. You would think one would choose pants over a shirt if he had to decide, but the kids were topped and not bottomed.
Life is definitely tough.



An interesting custom is that the home belongs to the woman and if men want to enter (and I mean the husbands) they have to knock and get permissoin. If the woman doesn't allow him to enter, he does not enter. This is because the home is a nurturing environment; the place where mother bonds with child and the man isn't allowed to interfere with that. When a child is born, the husband is not allowed to go into the house for the first three months of the child's life. This is because the mother is connecting with the baby. The husband sleeps elsewhere. What's even more interesting is that the baby is not considered a human being until after three months. This must tell you about the infant mortality rate in the past. Really sad.


And this place had the highest HIV rate in the world, a staggering 37%. Now it's down to 21% which is still REALLY high. The culture of the Swati people in Masoyi and the culture of the Besotho people in Lesotho and the culture of many other African communities are so unique but there's that one word that is a common thread linking them all, telling and retelling that same story of brokenness and despair.



Now on a more uplifting note, all four of us drank too much brown water and now are best friends with our toilet, making it's water, in turn, brown.

But the trip was worth it.

A tale of Tree Hearts

One of the most beautiful pictures right now is that of the vine and the branches. It’s beautiful imagery of remaining in Jesus and by staying connected to his vine, we can bear good fruit. Apples, mangoes, bananas of love, joy, peace, kindness, patience, gentleness, … And God the Gardener coming along with his little snippers and taking off all the bad branches to allow room for fresh and new growth. It’s beautiful! And the fruit that we bear is not to just ripen on the vine and then shrivel up on the vine, it’s to be picked! Other people can pick it and eat it and experience the fruit we bear. They can experience our kindness, gentleness, patience, etc. We will be recognized by our fruit. It’s an easy way to check if we’re connected to the vine. If we bear no fruit, we’ve either severed the branch from the vine or we allow too many bad branches to choke out the fruit. If we bear bad fruit, our branch is connected to a bad tree. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Beautiful. Maybe it’s because I’m a huge fan of trees that I connect so much with this picture.
“Remain in me and I will remain in you”
(John 15: 1-8)

The students are having tea and then will be busy writing an exam so I have some time to think and share. They are laughing hysterically. I’m not sure what happened; it’s always unfortunate when I miss it, but I know it was good because Zola is cackling and can barely breathe and Sesinyana ran out of the room full of tears. These people are beautiful and I’m so fortunate that I’ve been able to be a part of their growth and understand the uniqueness of each personality.

This week Darryl took half the students to the library and began doing library research with them and the other half stayed in the classroom with me and I began teaching basic computer stuff. Some were okay at computers already: they knew how to click a mouse, they knew what the cursor was, and they knew how to turn the computer on. Others, not so much. It’s PAINFUL (in a good way) to teach someone computers who has never even touched one. Patricia was scared to go near one. She is often dramatic about these things, but it was funny. Just like she’s scared of flush toilets (because she says in her culture they don’t poo in water), she was hesitant about the computer. But she got on and began the experience. Sesinyana and Nokuzola were hilarious. Everytime Sesinyana clicked the mouse she sort of jumped as if she was putting a lot of force into it. It reminded me of when some girls play Nintendo and they jump when Mario jumps and run with the controller as Mario runs. Zola was funny playing Mavis Beacon. I think she was typing at 4 WPM. And you can tell every time she messes up because you’d hear this “Eesh” from the computer area.

Oh yeah, the class definitely has a computer area now. We got Bethuel to build a nice computer table and we have three-ish computers on it. We also have a research area. It is a table consisting of two sets of encyclopedias and math, biology, physics, construction, health, geography and English textbooks. It’s awesome because even the after-school students (the ones in secondary school that come for homework support) have material to actually read from and study from and practice from. It’s crazy how they are expected to do research papers and type essays and letters and even LEARN when they have no access to anything. They can’t afford to take a taxi to the library in White River, they don’t know anyone with a computer plus they have no idea how to work a computer, and they have no books or resources to get information from. They just write research papers from their own mind, with no fact. Their “enriching” experience with knowledge throughout school really isn’t that enriching. What they learn is from their own minds or their teachers’ minds. I’ve seen so many students come into this classroom saying they have a research project and because we had no tools and they have no tools, they just answered the questions and built a project based on what they know. It’s not much of an effective activity if the research aspect is missed.

But enough about the education system.

We’re preparing for the students’ graduation ceremony. It’s pretty exciting. They are all thrilled! But some are stressed too. This is the biggest event of the year for them and they are worried about what they will wear. They don’t have nice dresses or suits to wear and no money to get their hair done nice. And as much as they understand that clothing isn’t important, it means a lot for them to look nice on this special day. The option of borrowing an outfit is definitely there but borrowing from anyone usually costs R50. Because there is so much theft in this country, even friends charge that to ensure it is returned. It’s become a custom now; borrowing a nice dress for free is rare.

As exciting as this event is, it is quite saddening for me. It marks the end of the year and the end of my time with them. What was a great opportunity for them in the beginning is over and now they must fly on their own. Nokuzola and Patricia will hopefully be heading off to Bushbuck Ridge to study Social Auxiliary Work at Zigna. Mduduzi will hopefully be off to Nelspruit to study at Lowveld College of Agriculture. Elvis will hopefully be off to either Polokwane or Thohoyandou to study a degree in Social Work at the universities there. Mxolisi will hopefully find something in the health field, whether that be an informal training or 6 week training in Nelspruit for primary caregiving. I say hopefully because no acceptance letters have come in yet, but I’ve been making phone calls and speaking with people in these schools to convince them that these students are incredible and to not admit them would be a huge mistake. We fear for Thapelo, though, because he re-wrote his exams and somehow his results have been lost in the system. Without those results, it’s hard to find something for him. We can’t apply to schools. But we have faith that God will reveal a path for him. Sesinyana is one I’m quite excited about. We’ve begun thinking of how we can get more strong African leaders involved with Hands at Work. We are working out a way she can join the Footprints program, which is a one year program where the volunteers are trained for 10 weeks (or longer) and then sent out to build capacity in other countries. Her heart for orphans is incredible. One day she told me every time she meets a new orphan it motivates her. And another day she said she’s glad she didn’t pass grade 12 and can’t go on to university because so many people leave, forget their community, and don’t want to come back. She feels strongly about serving the orphans in her community and she doesn’t want to be like the others that forget. We’re working on how we can make it possible for her to join us.

On a personal level, I’ve been getting myself more acquainted with the bigger picture of Hands. Right now I’m working with a high-level, high resourced education program, which isn’t really what Hands does. Hands at Work strives to reach 100 000 orphans and vulnerable children with three BASIC and essential services: health care, education, and food security. That does not mean university preparation. It means teaching orphans how to clean their house or grow a garden. We really mean basic. I’m really excited for next year because I’ll be playing a role in the education side of things. There are a number of community schools we’ve built in Zambia and Malawi that need more support and training. Right now the students meet in an empty building or in an existing church. The teachers are volunteers and there aren’t many resources. My heart beats so fast when I think about working with those schools and helping them to improve the education they provide. As much as South Africa has suffering, these other countries we work in are in greater need. Malawi, Zambia, Mozambique, Nigeria, Swaziland, Congo, Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe is a place that fascinates me. Read up on Zimbabwe and what’s happening there. What once used to be known as the “Breadbasket of Africa” is now the opposite. Major food shortages, tight political reigns, and a blind eye have put this country in a very desperate place. Not to mention the diamonds recently discovered in one area that people are saying is the new Blood Diamond. Anyway, look into it.

This weekend Brooke, Jed, Marc, and I are going to Lesotho for a little holiday. It’s our way of saying good-bye to Marc before he leaves. I feel so sad when I think about Marc leaving in three weeks. There will definitely be a hole in my heart. Perhaps I’ll create an imaginary friend and call him Marc. He will watch the Office with me and quote it during the day. He’ll play guitar for me and I will shoulder dance as he plays. We will play tag daily but I will most likely win. I will cut his hair in all kinds of fun and exciting dos: Asian Punk, Robbie Hart, Bob Marley, Marc Damour, Lloyd Christmas, and so on. Or perhaps I should start getting used to being a third wheel. Brooke and Jed will be thrilled with my needy, clingy and dependant company. But, it will be a nice trip. Can’t get much better than pony trekking in the mountains.

OH and added to the list of people coming to South Africa is Dayla and three of her friends! So now it seems to be Dave, Louise, Bethany, Jenna Lane and Dayla that will be joining me on this adventure next year.

One last thing I’m not sure if I have mentioned. Did you know they call traffic lights here ROBOTS!!? How bizza, how bizza.

Camp, Canadian Thanksgiving, Corruption, Crutches, and another C word to complete the alliteration

Today is a beautiful day. It’s sunny and windy, which is a great combination. Today I went to church with Nokuzola. It was awesome. Since I’ve been here, I haven’t really found a church I’ve connected with. I would even say I’m an irregular church attender. My favourite church is staying up at the farm, walking and talking and resting with and in the Lord and his creations. This church was nice and I think I’ll go back sometime. The people just radiated with joy. The music was awesome – Zola sings every Sunday and if you haven’t heard me speak of her voice yet, whew. She has the most beautiful voice. It gives me shivers every time she opens her mouth.

I like banana trees. If it is ever possible for me to grow them at home, I will. I love the way the wind flows through the slits in the large leaves. It sort of makes me think of tinsel just now. I don’t know why. Plus bananas ripened on the tree… pretty much can’t get any better than that.

I’ve been meaning to write about the Forward camp. The purpose of it was to allow the students to rest, reflect, and just exist in God’s presence. The theme was “New Wineskins” so we everything we talked about led towards the act of shedding the old, healing, and putting on the new. We had many sessions and they were powerful. The most powerful was when we hiked down the valley into a very green and luscious spot deep in the trees. Everyone went around sharing their struggles. It was a time everyone needed. We all shared and one of the students just broke. She talked about how she has cracks all over her body and shared about the hard things she deals with everyday. She wonders what it means to live. The beautiful part about it was as soon as she finished speaking, all the other students came and surrounded her and just prayed for her. We prayed for a very long time, sharing in her pain. And this is what it means to carry each other’s burdens, to actually have compassion and feel their pain. My heart hurt so much for her. But it’s how it has to happen. We all hurt, but God put us in a body together to lift each other up and that’s where the healing comes from.

Other lighter events. We stayed at the camp for 4 days and 3 nights. There was a bottom camp and up the mountain more a top camp. We wanted to stay at the bottom camp for a night and then the top camp for two nights, but we had a killer storm the first night (and it continued to storm randomly for the rest of the weekend) so the mucky road only let us stay at the top for the last night. The storm was unreal, with lightning, thunder, and hail the size of golf balls. Sleeping was sort of tough because of this squeaking in the roof that went on all night. All weekend we were trying to decide if it was rats or bats. And after hearing a story before bed that rats have an anesthetic in their saliva and they spit on your toes so that your toes numb and then they nibble them…. Sleeping wasn’t easy. Not to mention waking up and having mouse (or rat? I recognized it as mouse… but I’ve never seen rat) poo not only on my bed but IN my sleeping bag. Cooking was a challenge. The challenge wasn’t cooking everything over a fire. That was easy. The challenge was starting a fire and cooking in between (or during) storms. OH! And we swung on vines! During the first hike into the valley, we found many vines. There was one we found great for swinging. We had to be careful because it was a little slippery from the damp and humid forest. I started on a rock and jumped onto the vine. As soon as the vine lost all its momentum the first direction and before the vine came back, I slipped right off. It was hilarious but avoiding the tree was fortunate. I almost pulled a George of the Jungle.
What else happened…
Oh three of the guy students got baptized in the river. That was sweet. Mduduzi, Mxolisi, and Thapelo. We were all going to swim after, but yet again, a storm came.
One of the days, we were all sitting around the fire journaling when we heard some crazy noises from the bush. It was a bit of a frightening animal noise. The students all recognized it as baboons. We thought nothing of it and continued until it came closer and closer. Now, baboons are not your nice friendly monkey friend that sits on your shoulder and plays a music box. These things are vicious. When we went to Kruger Park with the students, we all had to research an animal prior. I researched baboons and those dominant males are freaky freaky freaky. So we were feeling frightened. Darryl, Lacey and Callan decided to get weapons and find the baboons. Darryl chose a large log, Callan chose an axe and Lacey… she chose a frying pan. They saw the baboons but the baboons ran away.
The top camp was quite nice. It was a little cottage that reminded me of Snow White. That night, the students had a little African dance party. It was sweet. They sang traditional songs and danced in the traditional way. Us whites tried to join in and some of us succeeded, but most of us did not. They have rhythm that is foreign to us foreigners. But it was a blast. We then went to bed. Oh, did I mention our sleeping arrangements? We slept on bunks and that was nice but the top camp did not have doors on the building. Apparently they had been stolen. It was no big deal because we were so far from civilization. Or does that make it worse? I knew ahead of time there were no doors but the way I pictured it, I thought it was no big deal. When I saw how small the rooms were and how freaky having no door made it, then it was a big deal. And then add the fact that the students the whole time wouldn’t stop talking about ghosts. Especially this specific ghost that creepily says “Buya” and wants your head. I had to use the toilet in the middle of the night but I was far too scared. I held it and held it and held it and then finally I heard some people getting up. It ended up being 6 or 7 of us going. Apparently, everyone had to go but was too scared until Zola got the courage to go and we all tagged along.
The next day we went on a biiiiiiiiig hike. The hike took us down the valley and then up a big mountain. At the top of the mountain we had communion, which consisted of shortbread cookies and milky juice boxes. It was probably the most beautiful communion I’ve ever had. That’s got to tell you about the versatility of symbolism. So that was the camp. It ruled. I’m posting pictures soon, hopefully tomorrow so stay tuned.

Maybe I should also write about Thanksgiving. We had an incredible Canadian Thanksgiving. All of the staff and volunteers came, so about 50 people were there. All the Canadians were responsible for bringing a traditional item, and others were just encouraged to bring anything. The only problem was that we couldn’t find a turkey anywhere, so we cooked 6 chickens. I can’t tell the difference between chicken and turkey anyway when it’s smothered and drowning in gravy. We made perogies, lazy man cabbage rolls, stuffing, pumpkin pie made out of squash and tasting the exact same, mashed potatoes, gravy, etc, etc. The works. The table was FULL of food but I can’t seem to waste my plate space on all the fancy frilly things. As much as I love new varieties of food, when it comes to Thanksgiving, there’s no time to fool around. We even shared how Thanksgiving came to be, but no one was really sure. We all had our own made up renditions of how it happened and put something together to educate the non-Thanksgiving celebrators on it. If we succeeded in truth or not, it doesn’t matter. Something about pilgrims and harvest and Natives and a ship. We give thanks and that’s good enough.

Another thing, I took three students to Limpopo Province to register for Social Work at two universities: University of Limpopo and University of Venda. We drove the whole way. I forget how many kilometers I put on, but it was a lot. The universities were interesting but the really eventful part was almost getting two speeding tickets in a row. The first one, the guy ahead of me paid off the cop so he allowed us to go too, and the second one just let us go, I’m not sure why. PTL?

Darryl got hit by a car. He was running in the middle of the road with his earphones on and got hit. He smoked the windshield and was thrown in front of the car onto the ground. I’ve never done so much nagging in my life to get him to go to the clinic and then finally after going and discovering he has a broken foot and getting a cast, more nagging to make sure he doesn’t walk on it. For some reason he just doesn’t understand that a doctor’s orders are for a reason. Good thing he’s got an expert on foot breaks to help him out.

They don’t celebrate Halloween here. It’s sad. And being in such a Christian community makes it hard to celebrate as well. Who says Halloween’s a pagan festival? It’s just some kids dressing up and eating candy. Sure Halloween ORIGINATED with evil and witches and death and other creepy things and kids like to dress up as vampires but surely God likes a little face paint once in a while. No? So, I didn’t dress up. Plus I figured the people in the community (especially the old Gogo’s) would think I was a real witch. The most disappointing part is that I think this was the first Halloween ever that I didn’t watch Ernest Scared Stupid.

And signing off.

New Wineskins

This weekend is a very highly anticipated weekend. It’s the Forward Camp. It’s a weekend filled with quiet time, journaling, and reflection for the students and for the rest of us. The theme is New Wineskins (a new creation). Everything we do or talk about on the weekend will lead towards becoming new.

I’m leading a session on Healing, using James 5:16 as the anchor: “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you maybe healed…”
The students have so much grief and hurt inside that builds up. In order for them to become this new creation, without cracks and brokenness, healing must happen. In James, it says that healing comes through confessing in community and praying in community. It isn’t until it comes out and in the open that God can really prune it. We will have an open sharing time in order to achieve this. Lacey suggested a powerful symbolic activity to assist in this healing. She suggested taking rocks and writing on it what has hurt us and what is preventing us from healing. We will then throw these rocks and hurts into the river, releasing them for good. Then we will spend some time just praying for one another.

I’m very excited for this weekend and am trusting God to really work in all of us.

We’re there from Thursday to Sunday. I’ll try my best to let you all know how the camp went.

Please pray that the students will be touched in a special way. I know that many of them are feeling weary, disappointed, and beginning to lose hope. A lot of them have been through some significant challenges in the last little while and need renewal. We all need it.

Hands at Work on TV

In July, Peoples Church (Canada) filmed two TV programs on Hands at Work’s activities in South Africa and Mozambique. The programs will air as part of the Living Truth broadcast October 12, 19 and 26. For information on times and stations see a broadcast schedule here:

http://www.livingtruth.ca/program.asp

WATCH IT, TAPE IT, SHARE IT.

Gardens, Friends, Fractions, and Pepto

I haven’t written in a while. This is mainly because either the things that have been happening have been ordinary everyday occurrences which I feel would be of no excitement to people back home or they have been very intense, very personal, and very hard issues that cannot be shared over a publicly viewed forum.

As part of the community component of class (or community outreach) the students decided to build gardens in 14 child-headed houses in their areas. Last week we built 8. We had limited resources: two hoes (one of them the head held on with a butter knife), one shovel, and one bent rake). We first chose a spot that could retain water the best. Then we worked up the ground a little. We sent a couple people into the bush to find sticks to use as poles for the fence (chopped using a machete borrowed from a neighbour) and a couple people to walk around house to house to find maize meal sacks that we can use for fence. We dug holes for the poles, put rocks in to support the poles, and filled in the holes with dirt. We then attached the maize bags using wire. We then collected grass (lots of grass) and blanketed the garden with it in order to protect the soil from the hot sun in order to retain moisture. We’ll are going to come back next week to plant the seedlings. And yesterday we toiled over these gardens in 40 degree weather. Yes, it is starting to become summer here.

We were making a garden at a guy named Themba’s house when all the students were saying, “Look what’s happening!” We looked in the distance and saw around twenty guys running around. The students said they were chasing after a guy trying to catch him. Apparently, he was suspected of raping a child in the community and all the guys of the community were trying to catch him, seeking justice for the family and for the little girl. We witnessed this. They caught him, brought him back, and publicly beat him. They didn’t beat him much, just threw him around a little and gave him a few punches and kicks. We witnessed this. I definitely saw the need to address this with the students. I asked them if they felt this was right. They said it was because this man needs to be punished before taken to the police. I wondered why he had to be punished before taken to the police (as that was the job of the police) and they said it had to be done as a public statement to everyone else that if they do this, the people in the community will respond. I’m still trying to process what I think of this. The problem is that they aren’t sure if this guy actually did it. There are many beatings in the community because people are suspected of stealing or committing other crimes. It’s a huge issue.

On a lighter note, FOUR of my friends will be joining me in South Africa very soon. Aliah will be coming in the middle of December to hang out on her Christmas holidays. This will rule more than a 30cm ruler. And then in January, Louise will be coming to spend six months to serve at Hands. She’ll most likely be working alongside me with education stuff. And then Bethany and Jenna Lane are coming at the end of January to serve 3 months and 2 months (respectively) playing with orphans and spooning me.

On Wednesday, I taught a lesson on fractions to the grade 9-12 After-school students. I cut up apples into halves, quarters, thirds, sixths, and eights. They had to order the apples from smallest to largest and then had to figure out how many different ways they can make a whole apple. It was very sweet and I think it helped them to have a good understanding of fractions (which is definitely a foundational concept they do not have). The apples turned brown but that didn’t stop them from devouring them after the lesson.

As I’m writing this, Darryl is sitting nearby listening to his ipod very loudly. I say, “Your music is very loud” and he says “It’s electric guitar. It has to be loud.”

Yesterday we went to a restaurant that served all-you-can-eat pizza. We were celebrating a dearly loved friend, Heather’s, departure. The pizza came with sides of parmesan, garlic, and fresh chilies. I asked Darryl how much to eat a large spoonful of chilies. He said R300. I then asked how much to eat the whole bowl and he said R1000. It was from here that I began talking down the price. “But you would do it for R900.” He didn’t buy into this strategy. I then turned to the other side of me and targeted Marc. I said “How much to eat this whole bowl of chilies?” I figured I’d start off big. He said R500. People started putting their money on the table. Marc had to do it. And he did. And it was awesome. He was sweating and turning red and … ya it was awesome. I got it on video. He later devoured a handful of Pepto Bismol tablets which gracefully coated his stomach and prevented any further intestinal damage. He claims it came out fine too. That, I’m not too sure about.

I took lots of pictures of the gardens and I’m feeling like an update in the picture department is needed. I’m working on it.

Sorry for the overdue blog.

Field Trip to Jo'burg

I just got back yesterday from a field trip to Johannesburg and Pretoria. Did you know Johannesburg has over 10 million people?? It's huge! Definitely the largest city I've even been in. Crazy.
There were 10 of us that went; all the students plus Musa and Darryl and me. We visited the Apartheid museum, University of Pretoria, an orphanage, some creches, an organization that does home-based care IN the city of Johannesburg. We saw a movie, played mini-golf, went to McDonald's, went to Liberty Church youth group, and stayed in a beautiful stone bed and breakfast. I drove the entire way. On the way we ran out of gas. The students pushed us to the gas station which was about a kilometer away. We had many road maps, but somehow still missed turns on the freeway and put on way more kilometers than was needed.

It was a really good trip and opened the students' eyes to life in Johannesburg. It's a completely different world. It's like going to New York or going to Toronto, but bigger. We visited some of the sketchy areas to show the students that life in Jo'burg isn't a life of perfection. The problems that exist in Masoyi exist in the big city too. Jo'burg is not a place to go for refuge or to escape all the issues plaguing their community. Visiting the orphange was really powerful. It was a beautiful place. The kids had many toys and beautiful rooms with painted murals. It was just a really nice facility. The students saw the orphans as being really lucky to live in such a place, yet when we left all the children kept telling us that they wanted to go with us. The children saw the students has having it all, even though the kids were much better off than the students. We discussed it afterwards and the students concluded that they wanted to come with us because we had love. And they could have all the food in the world, all the toys in the world, and the nicest painted walls in the world, but if they have no life, it is all meaningless. Very profound coming from the students who are themselves orphans.

Here are two journal entries of things I experienced personally:

4 Sept - University of Pretoria

As I sit here on campus watching the busy life of University students, I can't help but feel many things that I can't describe. I feel like I'm going through culture shock. But what's strange is that I am surrounded by a world I used to be deeply engrossed in, surrounded by people I used to be (and probably still am). I am so overwhelmed and so pulled into want. I want all of what these people have. I want to care about fashion. I want to boy-gaze. I want the competition, the excellence, the discovery. I want the self-involvement. But the inner battle of "me" is too much to take. I can't live like this anymore. I can't live in my own flesh. There is no way I could ever let myself be busied with trivial things anymore. But sometimes I really desire those things. And that's what makes this so hard.

Patricia says she doesn't want to study here. She doesn't like the lifestyle. She doesn't like the competition.

5 Sept - Shopping center

So today we strolled around a nice little area with shops and restaurants. And I saw the best thing ever: a skate park. To see a skate park was music to my eyes. At that moment all I craved was a ride on a board so I asked if there was a skate shop. There was! So I went. As soon as I got in the store, I heard a sweet sweet sound. It was the bliss of speakers void of R&B. It was the heavy and chaotic mix of double kick, squeals, and grueling vocals. What a relief to escape Mariah Carey, Leona Lewis, and Akon. There were two guys working. They were wearing tight pants, had multiple tattoos, and had dirty hair. I immediately proceeded to have an engaging conversation with them. We talked American bands, circle pits, and longboards. Even as I'm writing this I'm drowning in Backstreet Boys. Can't imagine life without your love because even forever don't seem like long enough EVERYTIME I BREATHE I TAKE YOU IN...

Sick

Oh man, how my ears long for the shred of metal. How my skin longs for sweat not of my own. How my arms, legs, and ribs long for bruises from the pit. How my chest longs to feel the heavy vibrations of the bass. How I long for the chaos, confusion, and extreme exhilaration found at a live concert.

Long and definitely Long Overdue.

3 September
So I feel obligated but equally excited to give an update of what has been going on lately.

Last week (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday) all of Hands at Work did three days of prayer and fasting, focusing on our relationships with each other, our relationships with our donors, our relationships with the people in the communities, and our relationship with God. This is the first time I fasted. And it wasn’t the “I’m going to give up chocolate” fasting, it was real “only water” fasting. I’ve always known that this is something common in spirituality but never understood it’s value. It was unreal. We were really challenged. I was very challenged. There were many passages of scripture that were foundational in helping me re-focus why I’m here and foundational for revealing the condition of my relationships with all of the above. I was kicked in the pants and rocked hard. I wasn’t doing well in any of the relationship areas so it was really good to get kicked hard. I mean it really hurt, but it’s hard to focus on the pain when you know growth and maturity will come out of it.

One thing very exciting that occurred was George (founder of H@W) and Lynn went to Canada and stopped at my church in Saskatoon (Lakeview). There was a very good turn out and the feedback I received from both sides is that they made a big impact. This is something that has been on my heart for a long time. AND there are rumours that some people from there might be coming ….

Remember that time when we didn’t have any water at the farm? Well, once again we have no water. We ran out of water on Sunday and I think today we should be getting the water back again, which is a relief because the dishes stink, the bathroom stinks, and I stink.

On the note of the farm, I think I’m moving soon to Hands Village which is the new… ok let me explain something. I live on Peebles Road. On Peebles Road is Africa School of Missions, which is a campus that houses many Hands staff and also the location of the Hands offices. On the other side of the road is Acts Clinic and beside Acts Clinic is Hands Village. We have been building Hands Village for months and months and months and finally it is ready to house people. So, we are moving from the farm (which is 6 km farther down Peebles road from ASM). This is sad. I love the farm. I love Boo, I love the house, I love the quietness, I love Kiver, I love the community of people, I love the space, … So soon, I will be a resident of Hands Village.

Now for the update of the students. Before I got here, they upgraded their marks to try and reach Exemption (level of Gr 12 Certificate they need in order to get into University). The results weren’t very good. Only one of them – Elvis – has Exemption. The others have only Standard Certificates so we’re looking for other options. Patricia and Nokuzola applied for Social Work Auxiliary. Elvis is applying to University of Venda and Limpopo for Social Work. We’re still waiting on Mxolisi, Sesinyana, and Thapelo’s marks and certificates so we can figure out where they can go. Mxolisi wants to do nursing so we’re trying to find a Nursing Auxiliary program for him. Sesinyana wants to do Social Auxiliary work also, so we’re hoping to get her into the same program as the other girls. Thapelo wants to do Electrical Engineering so we’re looking for an institute where he can study something in that field. Mduduzi wants to do agriculture so we’re looking for a College or program where he can go and study that. What’s really hard for me is that these students are unreal. I can’t even believe what is in them, especially the girls (which I have grown close with). I can honestly say they can go on and do incredible things, but what is holding them back is their marks from high school. Most of them have poor marks so further education is a challenge. But they have come a long way since high school! Everytime I think about Nokuzola, Sesinyana, and Patricia, I’m blown away by their incredible character and potential.

Nokuzola is a beautiful, beautiful person. She loves God with all her heart. She cares so much for the people in her community. She has a servant’s heart greater than any I have ever seen! She has a strong sense of morality and thinks differently than the people in her community. She sees wrong and she strives to live her life in opposition to it. She is not scared to challenge people in their thinking. There are many times in class when Elvis or … (ok it is mostly Elvis) will say something and she will just turn right around and challenge him. She is a woman of God. She speaks perfect English and her writing is near perfect. If you read her work now and then look at her high school marks, you would not think it was the same person. But I know she is going places.

Sesinyana is very small but she has a huge heart and she’s a BIG figure in her community. She has a very small house and lives with her 18 year old brother. Every time I go to her house there are children hanging around. They are borrowing things, asking advice, or just seeking attention. Even when she walks down the road, children are always screaming, “Sesinyana! Sesinyana!”. She has a strong head on her shoulders and leads the classroom like a mother. Yes – she’s definitely the mother in the classroom. She is the one I worry the most about in terms of having enough food. There are days she doesn’t even eat. But there is need in her community. When I first got here I wrote about a house of three boys: Simpiwe, Isboniso, and Daniel. Sesinyana visits these boys everyday. They have no food; she has little food, yet she shares with them. They had no soap to do laundry and so weren’t going to school because their uniform was dirty and she gave them soap. So selfless. I’m learning from her constantly. She is a very weak student which breaks my heart because she is so wise. She is wise in the ways of her world.

Patricia has a big heart and it is reflected with her mouth. This sounds funny but it is true. You know the verse talking about out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. Well, she has a voice. A very loud voice. And I’m not saying she is literally LOUD, but she can speak like none other. She is incredibly gifted and talented in speaking and she uses it. She is a voice for her people. One thing I admire about her is that she hides nothing. She has no secrets. In this culture, there are many secrets and certain questions should not be asked (actually questions are rarely asked) but she allows all questions.
And these girls can PREACH! Wow. They are weak in school books, but for some reason they are strong in the Good Book. They can connect things and apply things they I could never do.

Now as I am incredibly excited inside just writing about these things, I am also excited that I get to spend the weekend with all the students. We are going to Johannesburg tomorrow morning (6:30 am). We are visiting the University of Pretoria, the Apartheid Museum, and visiting some of the townships in the area with a local church. We are going to see a movie, eat at nice restaurants (INCLUDING McDONALD’S!) and just have a great time together experiencing new and different things. I’m so excited! And so are the students – they all got their hair done. The boys are trimmed. The girls have fancy new extensions and colours. Darryl’s getting a cut (I’m doing it tonight). I guess I need to figure out something new. Darryl thinks I should wear a braided ponytail. Hmm.. we’ll see.

I’ll let you know how the trip goes!

The August Fire

I have always been fascinated with forest fires. Coming from Northern-ish Saskatchewan, it's a pretty common summerly occurrence. The grasses in Africa grow very tall, taller than me. During the winter, it's a lot cooler and so it's a perfect opportunity to burn these grasses. The sky is hazy with smoke from all the grass being burnt. Saturday night the sky was a little more than a haze.

I spent the day at Youth and on the drive back home noticed they were burning along the main road. Thinking nothing of it, we drove up the driveway to the farm. Later on, we noticed the wind was strong and the fire was starting to head in our direction. It was still a distance away and was only seen to be in the direction behind the house. That soon changed. The winds picked up, the fire grew larger and was faster approaching. Not only that, but we started noticing in more directions the fire moving towards us. This was so very exciting, but at the same time we were getting a little nervous as it was now approaching a large part of our perimeter.

And the fire grew larger and the fire came closer. We began to feel the heat of the fire and the air grew thick with smoke. Walking outside, my eyes instantly began to water and I could barely breathe the smoke was so thick. By the end of the evening, my eyes were red and puffy.

This was so intense. But so exciting!

I felt as if I was in a few movies. It reminded me of Free Willy 2 when the tanker exploded and the water was on fire. The fire began to close in and Willy barely escaped. This fire was closing in on us.

A couple men were driving around inspecting the fire. At one point, they told us that the fire was out of control and if it crosses the fence, we should do anything we can to protect that house. Thanks man - good advice. The men were later watering down our perimeter with big tanks and hoses.

So we were in "protect the home" mode.

As the fire approached the fence, the grass was a lot shorter (thanks to our lovely gardener, Kiver) and it died down. But only a meter away from it.

Then a new problem was noticed. We have a large tree in our yard that was struck by lightning before I came. It is very dead and very gnarly. Marc noticed the tree was on fire. Somehow a spark flew into the tree and it began burning from the inside. Knowing this tree will burn quickly and because it is right beside the fence, we were frantic to get the fire out. Marc filled a large barrel with water and ran towards the tree. And here is where my story becomes comical. The ground is uneven and there are many holes. As Marc got to the tree, he stepped in a hole and fell down the rocky/rooty ground. Not only did he twist his ankle, but he spilled half of the water and lost his pants. He says there was so much going on at that moment. A tree on fire. A painful ankle. A spilled bucket of water. And pantslessness.
I was kind and did not laugh at first, but everytime I think about it, it makes me laugh and I do not let him forget about how funny it is.

The next day we went for a walk around to check out the damage. It was a rainy and gloomy day. There was a huge area of land charred. It reminded me of Bambi, the large forest fire and the chaos that ensued, then the next day a rainy and solemn day. I guess it makes more sense though to compare it to The Lion King, seeing as it was a grass fire and it was in Africa.

So that is the August Fire. We took lots of pictures and video, so hopefully I can get that up soon.


To see other pictures meanwhile, go to these links:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015065&l=851b6&id=122200374
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014092&l=e5455&id=122200374
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013351&l=1e2d4&id=122200374

African Wedding Crashers

So today I crashed an African wedding. It was the most incredible experience. I’ll start at the beginning. My friend Victoria invited me to a wedding of someone she sort of knew through some friends at her church. Darryl dropped me off at 8:30am near Victoria’s, although Victoria was nowhere in sight. We sat in the vehicle for a bit until some random man came up to us and asked if we were going to church. I said I was going to a wedding with my friend Victoria and asked if he knew her. He said ‘yes’ and that he was going too so he took off to go tell her I where. As he turned around the corner, Victoria came. I went to her house, she got ready, and by 9:30 we were on the tar road waiting for a taxi. No taxis came so, becoming desperate, Victoria flagged down the next vehicle to pass. Now, this part is something I shouldn’t really share because I will probably get an earful from all the parent-like figures in my life, but oh well. We hopped in the back of the car with two guys. As soon as I got in, I was overwhelmed with the smell of marijuana or dacha. I knew from the beginning it was a bad idea, but I trusted Victoria and her discretion. They were very friendly and dropped us off at the end of the road where we proceeded to catch a taxi. We finally got near the church but had no idea how to get to the church. Victoria asked for directions from pretty much every person we saw and eventually we got to the church just in time to see the honking convoy of cars pull up. I was greeted by many of the older women and very welcomed. They were unreal: screaming, dancing, and waving random braches and scarves in the air.

Man, the wedding hasn’t even started yet.

The wedding starts at 10:00 am. As soon as I walked in I was blown away by the display at the front of the church. It was beautiful. The colour theme of the wedding was gold and white. It looked fit for a king! There was a very talented worship band playing and singing the entire time.

It should be mentioned that I am the only white person. Not only am I the only white person and stick out ridiculously, but Victoria decides to sit me in the front row right beside the aisle. So I’m front and center, white, and oblivious as to who is getting married.

The old women are still screaming, dancing, and waving random branches and scarves in the air, but this time they are also laying mats down for the wedding party to start walking down the aisle.



I’ve been to many weddings and the “walk down the aisle” music is always some soft, sappy, Canon in D sort of music. Not this wedding. I was shocked to hear the dance mix techno bass-booming beat that accompanied the wedding party. I guess it makes sense to only walk silently, slowly, and rather boringly while Canon in D is the aisle-walking music but I wondered how it could be justified with this loud techno beat. They did not walk down the aisle. They danced down the aisle, nay they partied down the aisle. Two by two. It was awesome! First the little girl and boy and then eventually the bridesmaids and groomsmen. It took forever for them to get to the end but they finally did. The groom came next (he just walked) and then the bride came. She walked down the aisle in the most … 80s poofy unreal tacky blinging dress I have ever seen.

The pastor then begins to open the ceremony with prayer. Shortly after the prayer he reads a piece of paper and says “blah blah siSwati blah blah 3X5 HM843 blah blah.” Ha ha! It never fails. In every country and every wedding there is always a car that has its lights on or needs to be moved.



The wedding was long. There was a long program and lots of speeches and lots of singing and lots of dancing. Don’t get me wrong, it was mostly fantastic.

But for 5 hours, I stared at the beautiful cake at the front. It was your normal looking wedding cake complete with the white bride and groom at the top. As I stared at it, I thought about marketing a black bride and groom cake decoration. But the cake looked delicious and I was very excited when they started cutting it at 3:00. They handed out a small piece to everyone. I looked at my highly anticipated piece of cake and thought … WTF!?!? WHO THE HELL EATS CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKE AT A WEDDING!! I didn’t even know Africa had this disgusting crap. FRUIT CAKE. What a disappointment. Man I can’t even express the disappointment. I turned to Victoria and asked her if she liked the cake. She responded no. I don’t think anyone likes it anywhere in the world.



Highlight: The band busted out “Old Time Religion”

The exchange of vows part was very cool. Well, mostly the rings. Each of them had their little ring pillow and the man went first. He put the ring on, then went back into the pillow and busted out another ring. He puts that on. Then he goes back into the pillow and busts out another ring. And as he’s doing this, the crowd is going wild. He places on her finger FIVE rings. I guess the more rings, the more the man respects the woman. As he put on the last ring, he looked at her and then the crowd and said, “I’m very proud of her.” Then he pulls out a fancy gold watch and places it on her wrist. As he puts it on her, he says, “This watch is so that you can look at it and see that it’s time for church and go to church and praise God.” Very cool. What’s really cool is that these two have been together for 16 years. They were both orphans and met at 16. They dated and lived together and then become Christians. When they became Christians, they lived apart until their marriage at 32 years of age. He even paid the FULL ibola for her. This is pretty significant because since they lived together, she’s not really worth as much as before but he respected her enough and felt her worthy enough to pay the full price.



Now for the worst part of the wedding. One of the people who gave a speech was the lady pastor. Let me draw you a picture. I was sitting right next to the speaker. The speaker was blaring full volume (as most African functions are) to the point where the speakers are being blown. This lady SCREAMS into the microphone. Literally screams. We’re in a small church. There is no need for a sound system. There is no need for her to yell. If she talked in a regular voice without a microphone, she still would’ve been PLENTY loud. I’ve been to a lot of concerts but this was by far the loudest noise to ever enter my ears. It hurt so bad. She talked for fifteen minutes. I looked up at the clock and thought that I would not make it for another fifteen minutes. She continues to talk. By this point I want to cry I’m so frustrated and angry and in pain. I could feel the cry welling up inside of me and slowly moisturize my eyes. And over and over in my head I couldn’t stop thinking about punching this lady. And over and over in my head I couldn’t stop saying the F word. This is how much pain I was in. I started PRAYING that God would shut her up. Either that or that He would protect my eardrums because they were about to shatter into a million pieces. So she’s onto a half hour. And then proceeds to talk for another fifteen minutes. I can’t even explain how much pain I was in physically and emotionally (and after all those nasty thoughts, probably spiritually too). It sucked.

Last part of the wedding. The program finally finished around 3:30 and Victoria and I were given a plate of food. The food consisted of a massive chunk of pap and a piece of fried chicken, some beet root, some sweet potato, some bean salad thing, and some delicious cabbage. We just started eating when some guy told us to go eat in the tent and escorted us there. Thinking it was the regular eating area, we went. As soon as we walked in, we both instantly felt awkward. It was the wedding party tent. The bridge, the groom, and all the people we did not know were sitting at their fancy tables eating like kings. The food that was on our plate was peasant food compared to theirs. The man tells us to sit at this one table. So, peasant food plate in hand, we sit at a table that already has food and plates on it. We awkwardly sit down and begin eating our food. Just then, some lady told us the table was reserved and we weren’t to sit there. Oh how embarrassing!! Not only do we know no one, but I am white, in the wedding tent, and just now told we weren’t allowed there. We tried to explain our situation, that some man told us to come here. She escorted us to a different table still in the tent. This table was on a hill. I couldn’t even sit in my chair properly because I would’ve fallen backwards. We tried to finish our meal as fast as we could and get out of there … it was just too weird. But it was funny. I couldn’t stop laughing at how awkward the situation was. But what made it all worthwhile was a sweet old lady named Mavis who came and talked to us and apologized for the way we were treated. She said her heart hurt for the way that lady treated us. She continued to hug me, hold my hand, and tell me how sorry she is and how much she loves me. It was awesome. She was just such a beautiful woman. Then we left around 4:00pm and that is the end of my African wedding crashing experience.

Things I miss most

- Canada's geography -- the more time I spend here and the more I talk to people from other places, the more I am reminded that Canada is the most beautiful place in the world
- Vietnamese food -- all I want is one good noodle bowl, that's all (and maybe a spring roll) ...... and bubble tea
- PEOPLE -- Saskatoon friends, Calgary friends (especially the VJ's), Hamilton friend, Lloydminster friends, Nomadic friends, ...
- Safety & Security -- I miss being able to leave my house unlocked and going on long walks alone and leaving my yard and going out at night time and taking Greyhound buses without the fear of ... oh wait
- FAMILY -- Keiffer, Kimmy (kimmy), Ma, Pa, Elizzie, Rosie, TomCat, G&G G
- New music -- I have no way of accessing new music... it's sad.
- CONCERTS -- although the singing and dancing here is epic
- First Nations culture
- University life
- The river
- The ledge
- Spoon sessions -- with pretty much any of the above mentioned friends
- LONGBOARDING oh man.
- Farm
- Cheesequake blizzard
- McDonald's
- My favourite grey t-shirt that I somehow left behind

Stay tuned for this list to grow. It's bound to grow.

Zimbabwe

I am once again overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by Zimbabwe - a place stricken with political animosity and hyper-inflation. A place where the government and economic system are pushing people further and further into povery and despair with every day that passes.

Hands at Work just moved in to be with the poorest of the poor.

I think about the Granny that Lynn told us about that was left to care for her 14 grandchildren, all squished in the single room of their house. They sleep like sardines. When does she smile? Is it on the days she tells the kids they can't eat or is it when the older girls don't come home for the night because they are working to bring home money? When?

It's times like these that I must believe and earnestly pray for miracles. What other hope is there?

106.1 The Goat

Hey everyone!!
I got a call from the radio station in Lloyd a few days ago. They did an interview and it'll be aired Monday morning. I can't tell you what time, so I guess just listen all morning. My apologies for making you listen to Nickelback and Hinder just to hear me, but I'm sure it'll be worth it!!

How YOU can help

Hey everyone,

I just want to THANK YOU ALL from the bottom of my heart. I can't believe the response I got in e-mails after that last posting and the willingness of you all to help in some way. Here are some ways you can help:

1. Check out the website www.handsatwork.org

2. Donate money through Hands at Work website: you can pay with paypal but PLEASE make sure if you do this you e-mail me to let me know you did it and how much, that way I can talk to Craig (the finance guy) to ensure that the money gets transferred to Masoyi HBC

3. Volunteer your time! Hands is ALWAYS ALWAYS looking for volunteers and this route is encouraged moreso than just giving money. So go to the website and find out how you can get on board. We are trying to reach 100, 000 orphans by 2010 and need more hands.

4. If you want to spread the word and obtain promotional items (flyers, brochures, etc) or want to talk to a Hands representative, contact the Hands Canada Office at info@ca.handsatwork.org

5. If your church wants to partner with Hands at Work, contact the Hands Canada Office by e-mailing info@ca.handsatwork.org

You all encourage me!

Heavy on my Heart

My heart is breaking. My heart is breaking.

I just got out of the Masoyi HBC staff meeting. It’s a reporting meeting from all the programs under Masoyi HBC (Forward Education, Young Mums, Food Delivery, Youth, etc.). We report on how each program is running.

Every week, it is a sad report from Food Delivery. I had mentioned in an earlier blog the problem. The funding they used to receive has expired and they are scrambling to feed all the children under their care (approximately 3000)in the six areas within the community. For the next 3 months only, MHBC can only afford to distribute food parcels to 10 houses in each area. ONLY TEN. That means 60 homes total. The purpose of home-based care is just that – home based. There are desperate children traveling to the office to get food. They are pushing their wheel barrows all the way to K2 to obtain food and we are turning them away because we have no food. They come with an empty wheel barrow and they leave with an empty wheel barrow.

They have calculated that it costs approximately R250 to feed a home consisting of 1-2 children for the month. R250 works out to be approximately $33 Canadian.

How can I feel okay about this? How can I feel okay about teaching these children during the day and then sending them off to a foodless home while I’m fantasizing about the chicken and rice dinner that I’m going to prepare. What gives me the right to eat? And it’s not because I’m “following God’s will” for my life that I deserve it. It’s not because God has blessed me that I should dwell in the riches I have. Has God not blessed them? Is God not with them? I don’t believe God has given me all these things so that I may enjoy them, and continue to live above others. God wants for them as he wants for us. And if that means giving half of what I have to my neighbour who has nothing, then that is the purpose of my riches.

The volunteers at MHBC are becoming so desperate that they are talking about paying out of their own pocket. They talk about how starving children is unacceptable. They made promises to the children’s dying parents that they would care for the children. They say they are not holding up to their promises. MHBC does not receive pay. They are volunteers and are willing to pay out of their empty pockets to feed these children.

This, I believe, is unacceptable. It’s time for the church to feed the orphans and vulnerable children. It’s time for the church to step out of their affluent religions and take action.

Forward Education Video

This is a video we made to explain what I do here and what Hands at Work (the organization) does here. The purpose of it is to show to my church, Lakeview, in Saskatoon. We're hoping Lakeview will become a partner church to Hands at Work.

The music at the beginning is the students, Darryl, and me singing before class one day. We always sing before class. This song is my FAVOURITE song to sing here. Elvis is one of my students who is so strongly passionate about the condition of the community and is hoping to become a social worker. Stanley is a student from last year. This guy has the best laugh in the world and invokes laughter in me every time he laughs. He is currently running the very successful Youth Program at Masoyi.




Feel free to share this video with others.

I'll beat you with a brick!!

There's a little saying the kids throw around here. Often they can be heard chasing after one another, saying "I'll beat you with a brick". Violent, yes, I understand that, but still pretty funny. So, one day (a month ago) I decided to adopt this little saying. I would say it to the kids and they would laugh and I would say it again, and they would laugh some more and I would laugh. Then as I was saying it, I'd do the universal Africa "I'll beat you" hand symbol (which is that snapping-of-the-fingers-chew-tin-packing thing. And then they would really laugh. So I'm enjoying myself using this expression.
Until last week.
One of the rules in the classroom is that the students have to speak English.

Khulumani Silungu

And at first when we implemented this rule, I felt a little shaky on it. This being because I understand what happened in residential schools and I understand that language is an important and VITAL part of being and knowing and learning. BUT these students are living in their community and in their homes and speaking their language all the time, so if they want to master English as a functioning language, they need to practice speaking it. Ahem. There's my excuse. I really had to develop this reasoning to feel okay about it.

SO.

The students are always speaking Siswati in the class, so on the board I write:

Khulumani Silungu
(Or I'll beat you with a brick)

And the students thought it was hilarious.

But later on in the day, Sesinyana was joking around asking me why I wanted to steal Patricia's boyfriend. I said I didn't want to. She tells me I've been saying it all day.

Oh yes.

"I'll beat you with a brick" ACTUALLY means "I'm going to steal your boyfriend"

Sort of awkward considering I've been saying it for the last month to kids age 10-20.

On a different note, I've been reading "Into the Wild". I haven't watched the movie and figured the book would probably be better anyway. I was hugely inspired and challenged by this passage of the book:

"So many people live within happy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism al of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."

And on ANOTHER note, I've been blown away by this passage in the Bible:

"But Zion said, 'The Lord has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.'
Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me." (Isaiah 49:14-16)

I love that imagery
ENGRAVED on the palms of His hands.

Masoyi Home-based Care

I want to spend some time talking about Masoyi Home-based Care. These are people I see everyday. They have the biggest hearts for doing what Jesus did and I am inspired by them daily.

Masoyi Home-Based care is a network of care given to people within the community of Masoyi. HIV/Aids has taken control of this community, this country, and this continent and seeing this devastation, Hands at Work recognized the need to care for the individuals left to die, allowing them to die with dignity. Volunteers within the church identified people in the community that need care and a care-giver was assigned to them. This person visits their patients every week, providing medication, food, prayer, love, and hope. As these patients began to die, children were going to be orphaned and left with no one to care for them. Masoyi HBC promised to take care of these children. So now, not only do volunteers visit homes of sick patients everyday, they also visit the homes of child-headed households, ensuring they are healthy and have the basic needs (food, school uniforms, blankets, etc).

Masoyi is having trouble right now. They were strongly attached to Hands at Work in the beginning, but the goal was for Masoyi HBC to be independent, running on its own strength and its own people. But lately, donors that they depended on to provide money in order to buy food for all the children have stopped giving (due to expired contracts). Now they are left to figure out how to feed thousands of children that are in their care. They budget R20 000 (approximately $2500) a month to feed all these children (although that still isn’t enough). Because the donors have backed out, the incentives Masoyi could provide to its volunteers has been cut off. These are volunteers with families to take care of. They devote their days to caring for the sick and orphaned. Without these incentives (which still aren’t enough to survive off of) they have nothing to provide for their families. Now many volunteers are leaving to find jobs. Where there used to be a team of 12 volunteers for a certain area, there is now 5 or 6. With fewer volunteers, fewer people can receive care. This is saddening. I don’t have a solution. All I know is my heart breaks when I see the exhausted volunteers that are still devoting their time and my heart breaks when I see children that now don’t get food.

Three Days in the Community.

I stayed three days in the community with one of my students, Nokuzola, from June 11-14.

I arrived and Zola was very hospitable. She showed me where I was staying. Honestly, when I first walked in I was quite surprised. The door leads into a kitchen. I’d say a pretty large kitchen – larger than an apartment kitchen and comparable to an average sized cooking area. They had a beautiful wood stove used to cook and heat the house. Her Gogo’s favourite spot (where I saw her about 90% of the time) was on the floor on a homemade mat right beside the wood stove. She would sit there slumped over until she had something random to teach or say. She spoke English alright and would tell me stories about when she cooked for the white people. She was constantly teaching me SiSwati, which was great, because I was eager to learn. At times she would speak to me only in SiSwati but used extravagant hand gestures, which were enough for me to follow most of what she was saying.

After passing through the kichen, straight ahead was a large eating/ resting space and to the right was a long hallway. The space ahead had a couch, a radio, a dining table, a fridge, and a freezer. Not much time was spent in there. Down the hallway were four bedrooms. Zola and I slept in the spare room (which had two beds) and Daphne and Gogo slept in another room. Zola has her own room also.

After getting settled in, Zola cooked supper: chicken, rice, and a bean salad. It was delicious and sparked the questions of if they eat like this all the time or if they just brought out the best for the guest. After supper we sat around in the kitchen for an uncomfortably long time, drank coffee, and then proceeded to be around 8:30.

Preparing for bed is interesting when there is no indoor plumbing. They have water from the tap just outside their house (which is a luxury) and store it in buckets inside. This also means there is no bathtub or toilet. In the middle of the night, I heard Zola get up and pee in a bucket in our room. I tried my best to time my excrements (I didn’t want to have to take a large dump in the middle of the night – OR a medium-sized one for that matter) but on the last night I got to (enjoyably) experience peeing in a bucket in my bedroom.

Now taking a bath was definitely my favourite part! Every morning Zola would grab two basins, create a perfect mixture of hot (boiled on the stove) and cold water and place the basins in our room. We would then proceed to get naked and bathe in our separate basins. I was unsure how to do it at first and without wanting to look foolish, I asked. She was a bit surprised and said “are you serious” but it is in her nature to politely teach. So there I was standing in a small bucket trying to reach all the necessary parts. The bucket was probably ½ a meter in diameter and the water level probably had a height of about 3 inches. But how efficient!! It was quick, efficient water usage, and it left my skin feeling like a baby’s bottom.

In the morning Zola would have my breakfast and coffee ready for me and I’d be off to work for a day. She was always up at 5:30 getting the fire in the stove and feeding, dressing and shipping her 7 year old sister off to school. This is the life of a child-headed household.

I was basically up at 5 every morning too because apparently all the roosters in the community like to sing in unison upon sunrise. At night we go to bed at around 8:30 and fall asleep to the beautiful chorus of dogs.

On the last night, I brought a deck of cards to have a little fun. I taugh Daphne ‘Go Fish’, which seemed like a great idea at first – until she pestered me every second to play until I left the next day. And OH how she cheats! But how do you scold a child when you do not speak the same language and when you are a guest in her house? Well, you shake your finger where you can and pretend mismatched pairs are normal.
The last experience that was enjoyable was doing laundry. I requested we do laundry Saturday morning before I left and so we washed a couple things I had: a bra, a couple of skirts, a couple of t-shirts, and a jersey (sweater). We had 3 basins: the first with soapy water, the second with rinsing water and the third with Stay Soft fabric softener. So we scrub scrub scrubbed the clothes in the first (keep in mind her ratio of clothes done to mine is 3:1) then rinse in the second and then soften in the third. And – yes my arms were dead tired, the muscle falling off and all by the end and yes – my knuckles were bleeding.
An incredible three days!!
The men’s reactions to a Mulungu in the community, although, is another story…

Sawubona

A week in the life of Kristal:

Everyday I wake up around 6 or 6:30 am. And it is always before my alarm goes off. My body just naturally wakes up that early. I love it.

Monday - Prayer meeting at 8:00 am. This consists of singing and praying and singing and some dancing and singing and words from God. Then I might have some meetings, maybe I'll hang out with a student, maybe I'll do some photocopying and school preparations. I'll go home around 5 and enjoy a lovely house supper. Every Monday someone from the farm cooks supper for everyone. There are 12 of us living at the farm. I cooked last week. I cooked roast beef and mashed potatoes and gravy and broccoli and cheese sauce and made carrot cake for dessert. It was a bit stressful as we somehow ended up having 18 people for supper. Then on Monday is the day of the week I usually choose to shower, as our cleaning lady Maria is in that day and the shower (shared between 7 people) is at its best! It turns dark around 5 and find myself exhausted and in bed by 9.

Tuesday - I wake up head to women's prayer at 8:00 am. It's in the prayer garden and it is a beautiful time of sharing and praying for one another. After that I head to the community where my classroom is. Class starts at 9. Classes are until 3pm until the After School Program starts. The After School Program is basically a homework/tutor session for orphan students in grades 9-12. They come, receive a meal, have a life skills/ English lesson and then have about an hour or so for homework help. I go home around 4:30.

Wednesday - This morning is supposed to be small group, but for some reason I haven't been to one yet. I think I'll be attending the Masoyi prayer meeting instead. Masoyi is an organization that Hands at Work helped to start. It provides home-based care for people of need in the community. It's focuses are food delivery, orphan care, home visits and care for the sick, young moms program, better choices program, etc. My classroom is on the same property as Masoyi's offices and one of the orphan care centers. It's a happening place and I love every second of being there. After the meeting I have class until 3, then After School until 4:30.

Thursday - No meetings. I go to class at 9 and go home at 4:30.

Friday - No classes. I am usually quite ambitious on this day, as it is the first day of the weekend for me. I either find myself on some sort of mountain climbing adventure, picnic, baking extravaganza, or some equally exciting endeavor. Friday can also be spent planning, grading, and photocopying.

Saturday - Another day of either teacher duties or adventures. Sometimes both.

Sunday - Some form of church. Sometimes I attend really lame banjo-playing churches, sometimes really exciting and overwhelming community church, or just spend some time in fellowship with some incredible people. Today a group of us ladies went on a picnic in a pear orchard just outside a beautiful mining town.


I'd like to spend a bit more time talking about class, the students, the community, and Masoyi Home-Based Care. But alas, I will procrastinate and save it for another day.

Peace out Canadian Scouts.