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
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
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.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
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.
“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.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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.
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.
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