So, as I sit here and think of a title to this blog, I am being eaten alive by invisible mosquitoes.
This past week I've spent more time in the communities. I focused mostly on the community schools, assessing the teachers and even doing teaching. It was the best! I don't remember if I wrote about this already. But it was the best. I love teaching. Love Love Love Love.
On Saturday I did a workshop for the teachers. Can you imagine? This little girl in Nigeria teaching teachers how to teach. The workshop included topics such as Assessment, Classroom Management (including intrinsic vs extrinsic motivation and positive vs. negative reinforcement), Learning Styles, Curriculum Development (short term to long term planning), Taxonomy of Learning (focusing mostly on Cognitive Domain), ... weeeeeeeeeeee.
My highlight has still been spending time in Badia with Pastor Chris and Faith. It's a community lined with brothels. There is a deeply ingrained culture of sex, drugs, and alcohol. And it's a dark community with major strongholds. On Tuesday we had a meeting with women from two of the brothels. We introduced ourselves and were asking how we could support them in caring for their children. After we felt like we spoke enough, we asked how many of them are caring for children, and emphasized either their own or a relative's. No one, not one of the women admitted to having children. The sad part is that most of them do have children. They can't admit to it because it's bad for business. So they hide their children in the deep dark corner of their shack somewhere within the slum. There is a free government school in the area but they won't even dare send their children because then people, even worse the government, will know. These community is so heavy on my heart. But Chris and Faith are doing incredible work. Some of the women came to us afterward in secret saying they have children and want help. We have hope that the women will begin to trust us and see that we don't want to condemn them or steal their children, but we want to love them. There are incredible visions of a care centre there, where children can come, where mothers can come to receive counseling, to just rest, to receive extra lessons, ... it's going to be awesome.
On a completely opposite note, yesterday Lize and I took a day out and went to the beach. The thought of Nigerian beaches is really not a pretty thought... but we were pleasantly surprised when we got to the beautiful white sand and crystal blue waters. That was cut short, though, due to the awful pestering of local people. "Come this way Owebo", "Buy this Owebo", ... all we wanted was peace. So we called a guy we had met recently from South Africa who's living in Nigeria and he picked us up in his sweet ride and took us to the Yacht Club. Yep, you heard it. The YACHT CLUB. It was surreal. We rode on a boat and hung out on the Yacht Club's personal beach.
Nigeria has been an interesting experience. I've loved every second of being in the communities and helping to build the model, supporting and encouraging our people on the ground. There are a lot of things in Nigeria I won't miss. But there are a lot of things I will. This place is just so bizarre that in between fits of anger erupts fits of giggles. This place is just so bizarre.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
A few things about Nig
-Nig=Nigeria
-On Eid festival they slaughter goats seriouly everywhere
-The traffic is unreal. Basically everyone has right of way no matter where you're coming from or where you're going. You just have to put your hand out to stop the car and point to where you want to go. Our driver tried it while merging onto a road but the car wouldn't give. They exchanged many aggressive words and our driver finished by screaming at him, "It's because you're with another man's wife! It's because you're with another man's wife!"
-I visited two churches today, each of them a kilometer long. YOu can't even believe it. They hold over a million people and Rex says it's full, sometimes over-full.
-They love the prosperity gospel. Basically to be rich is blessed and poverty is from some "ancestral demonic pollution". We are to inherit the riches of this world and so we must eagerly pray for them... this book I have even instructs us to put our right hand on our head and shout, "Let wealth change hands in my life, in the name of Jesus!" or "O Lord, make a hole in the roof for me for my prosperity!" or "In Jesus' name I command wealth to come to me now!" or "In Jesus' name, I command you devil to loose the wealth of this earth!" I'm ashamed that my Jesus is attached to that crap.
-Nigerian dance parties are sweet
-I realized I've been here only a few days and I'm going through major culture shock. I've been in South Africa for a year and have been dreading re-entry into Canada. It's going to be a huge struggle, but little did I know Nigeria would be like entering North America but much worse. Nigeria wants to be like America. Everything I hate about North America, Nigeria has amplified. Eish.
-It's so freaking hot here. I sweat like mad. My skin is always so shiny. I never thought that much water could come out of my pores. I drink so much water, like over 2L a day but pee very little. It all comes out my pores. It's kind of sweet actually. The other day I was laying on my bed and Lize asked if I was crying. I just told her my eyeballs were sweating. Pretty sure they are.
-The communities here all have completely different stories. Yesterday I wrote about Ilaje (the slum on and off water), Ago-Okoto (the community with 419, or fraudsters) and today I visited a community lined with brothels. Most of the children are children of prositutes. It was a very difficult place to be.
-The internet is very fast and accessible (hency all my blogs and facebooking these days) and CNN seems to always be playing. I feel very up-to-date on Obama's appearance at the Copenhagen Conference and the surprise guests breaching White House security at his fancy supper.
-Lynn discovered his favourite church title thus far: "The Everlasting Settled Down Gospel Ministries Incorporated"
-I'm preaching on Sunday. I have no idea what to preach on and am quite nervous. Lynn says all I have to do is shout "Blessings! Power! Breakthrough!" and I'll be okay.
Much love from Nig!
-On Eid festival they slaughter goats seriouly everywhere
-The traffic is unreal. Basically everyone has right of way no matter where you're coming from or where you're going. You just have to put your hand out to stop the car and point to where you want to go. Our driver tried it while merging onto a road but the car wouldn't give. They exchanged many aggressive words and our driver finished by screaming at him, "It's because you're with another man's wife! It's because you're with another man's wife!"
-I visited two churches today, each of them a kilometer long. YOu can't even believe it. They hold over a million people and Rex says it's full, sometimes over-full.
-They love the prosperity gospel. Basically to be rich is blessed and poverty is from some "ancestral demonic pollution". We are to inherit the riches of this world and so we must eagerly pray for them... this book I have even instructs us to put our right hand on our head and shout, "Let wealth change hands in my life, in the name of Jesus!" or "O Lord, make a hole in the roof for me for my prosperity!" or "In Jesus' name I command wealth to come to me now!" or "In Jesus' name, I command you devil to loose the wealth of this earth!" I'm ashamed that my Jesus is attached to that crap.
-Nigerian dance parties are sweet
-I realized I've been here only a few days and I'm going through major culture shock. I've been in South Africa for a year and have been dreading re-entry into Canada. It's going to be a huge struggle, but little did I know Nigeria would be like entering North America but much worse. Nigeria wants to be like America. Everything I hate about North America, Nigeria has amplified. Eish.
-It's so freaking hot here. I sweat like mad. My skin is always so shiny. I never thought that much water could come out of my pores. I drink so much water, like over 2L a day but pee very little. It all comes out my pores. It's kind of sweet actually. The other day I was laying on my bed and Lize asked if I was crying. I just told her my eyeballs were sweating. Pretty sure they are.
-The communities here all have completely different stories. Yesterday I wrote about Ilaje (the slum on and off water), Ago-Okoto (the community with 419, or fraudsters) and today I visited a community lined with brothels. Most of the children are children of prositutes. It was a very difficult place to be.
-The internet is very fast and accessible (hency all my blogs and facebooking these days) and CNN seems to always be playing. I feel very up-to-date on Obama's appearance at the Copenhagen Conference and the surprise guests breaching White House security at his fancy supper.
-Lynn discovered his favourite church title thus far: "The Everlasting Settled Down Gospel Ministries Incorporated"
-I'm preaching on Sunday. I have no idea what to preach on and am quite nervous. Lynn says all I have to do is shout "Blessings! Power! Breakthrough!" and I'll be okay.
Much love from Nig!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Beware of 419
I got into Nigeria early ... man I don't even know what day it is. We got in early Wednesday morning. The first thing I noticed was the smell. That and everyone was wearing pajamas. The men's outfits are too sweet. They basically look like pajamas. One big pajama party. The smell is dependant on where you are. I've never smelled so many strange smells. It varies from rotten sewer to oil/stale toilet.
We visited Ilaje Wed afternoon. Ilaje means "Land of Witches". It's one of the biggest slums in Lagos. Lagos is a city of 13.5 million, the biggest city in Africa, and one of the biggest cities in the world. In fact, Nigeria populates 1/4 of Africa's population. Ilaje. I've never been in a slum before so I really had no idea what to expect. Walking through was difficult. It's basically walking on layers upon layers of garbage. The ground was very unsteady and almost squishy. And it was dry. Between the homes and "streets" are streams of human waste and just dirty dirty water. The water is black and it smells awful. Crossing over these streams one could almost vomit. I asked Lynn if he'd rather get hit by a car or fall into one of these streams. His answer wasn't easy. It depended on whether he got it in his mouth.. he chose the car. The most fascinating part of Ilaje is the separation of the community into off-shore and on-shore. Ilaje is right on the ocean and people actually live on the water. It's like venice, but a lot less glamorous. People travel through the streets with little boats. The biggest challenge is when the heavy rains come. The entire community floods, up to 3 feet in people's homes. Imagine what it means sanitation-wise for those little black streams and all that garbage when it floods. The entire community is extremely vulnerable. Children don't go to school and Malaria is very high.
There are a couple schools we've started up and I'm really looking forward to spending more time in these schools and working with the teachers.
I visited another community called Ago-Okota today. This. Place. Was. Fascinating. I walked in and couldn't imagine why we would even be working there. The houses were HUGE and the cars were very fancy. As we began walking the community I started learning about the 419. Section 419 in Nigerian law is dealing with fraud. Ago-Okota is entire community of these fraudsters. Everyone knows them as 419. They do major internet fraud all over the world. No giving out e-mail addresses I guess. But they make big money and build large houses in this area. They often watch a house and when the person goes out for the day, they'll take over the house. They will have already put ads in the paper and they'll show the house. Buyers will have to give down payments and then the 419ers take the money and go. All around Lagos and especially in Ago-Okota you'll see "House not for sale. Beware of 419" everywhere!
We began walking through to visit the children. I thought South Africa was a place of contrasts... this place is worse. There will be a big mansion with a tall secure wall. Against that wall will be a slummy shack with 4 or so rooms with 4 families. Often too there are big mansions the 419 start building but don't finish. Families squat in these unfinished buildings and pay rent. They're horrible conditions and definitely not safe.
The children are extremely vulnerable. Phillip is an incredible man overseeing the CBO in Ago-Okota. He says that children are in danger of being recruited by the 419 at young ages. They take the children in, train them, and send them with big guns to houses to collect money. It's a brutal situation. And these kids aren't going to school, are living in desperate situations and are surrounded by mansions and high-class cars. It sounds like a good thing to get into.
We met a family of 5. The parents are Alex and Gladys. We met them in their room in an unfinished mansion. When I say unfinished, I mean it's just a concrete structure with no doors and no windows. They used to live in a small house but riots broke out in the area three years ago. The 419 were trying to overtake the area. People were shot and killed, people were thrown in the canal. They had to escape so fled to this structure in Ago-Okota. They are beautiful people and are trying their hardest to get by. It's a difficult area to live in.
Tomorrow we go to another community called Badia. It's another large slum.
One of the hardest parts about being here is seeing what the Church is doing. Nigeria is home of the mega-church. I've never seen churches to this magnitude. There are many and they are large. Prosperity gospel is everywhere. To be rich is to be blessed. I just can't believe that. When I walk these communities and see the beauty of these children, cursed is definitely not what they are. They are in a situation they cannot control, but can be changed.
Please pray for us as we try to interpret and process this all. It's entirely different from South Africa (and many other countries we work in).
Much love.
We visited Ilaje Wed afternoon. Ilaje means "Land of Witches". It's one of the biggest slums in Lagos. Lagos is a city of 13.5 million, the biggest city in Africa, and one of the biggest cities in the world. In fact, Nigeria populates 1/4 of Africa's population. Ilaje. I've never been in a slum before so I really had no idea what to expect. Walking through was difficult. It's basically walking on layers upon layers of garbage. The ground was very unsteady and almost squishy. And it was dry. Between the homes and "streets" are streams of human waste and just dirty dirty water. The water is black and it smells awful. Crossing over these streams one could almost vomit. I asked Lynn if he'd rather get hit by a car or fall into one of these streams. His answer wasn't easy. It depended on whether he got it in his mouth.. he chose the car. The most fascinating part of Ilaje is the separation of the community into off-shore and on-shore. Ilaje is right on the ocean and people actually live on the water. It's like venice, but a lot less glamorous. People travel through the streets with little boats. The biggest challenge is when the heavy rains come. The entire community floods, up to 3 feet in people's homes. Imagine what it means sanitation-wise for those little black streams and all that garbage when it floods. The entire community is extremely vulnerable. Children don't go to school and Malaria is very high.
There are a couple schools we've started up and I'm really looking forward to spending more time in these schools and working with the teachers.
I visited another community called Ago-Okota today. This. Place. Was. Fascinating. I walked in and couldn't imagine why we would even be working there. The houses were HUGE and the cars were very fancy. As we began walking the community I started learning about the 419. Section 419 in Nigerian law is dealing with fraud. Ago-Okota is entire community of these fraudsters. Everyone knows them as 419. They do major internet fraud all over the world. No giving out e-mail addresses I guess. But they make big money and build large houses in this area. They often watch a house and when the person goes out for the day, they'll take over the house. They will have already put ads in the paper and they'll show the house. Buyers will have to give down payments and then the 419ers take the money and go. All around Lagos and especially in Ago-Okota you'll see "House not for sale. Beware of 419" everywhere!
We began walking through to visit the children. I thought South Africa was a place of contrasts... this place is worse. There will be a big mansion with a tall secure wall. Against that wall will be a slummy shack with 4 or so rooms with 4 families. Often too there are big mansions the 419 start building but don't finish. Families squat in these unfinished buildings and pay rent. They're horrible conditions and definitely not safe.
The children are extremely vulnerable. Phillip is an incredible man overseeing the CBO in Ago-Okota. He says that children are in danger of being recruited by the 419 at young ages. They take the children in, train them, and send them with big guns to houses to collect money. It's a brutal situation. And these kids aren't going to school, are living in desperate situations and are surrounded by mansions and high-class cars. It sounds like a good thing to get into.
We met a family of 5. The parents are Alex and Gladys. We met them in their room in an unfinished mansion. When I say unfinished, I mean it's just a concrete structure with no doors and no windows. They used to live in a small house but riots broke out in the area three years ago. The 419 were trying to overtake the area. People were shot and killed, people were thrown in the canal. They had to escape so fled to this structure in Ago-Okota. They are beautiful people and are trying their hardest to get by. It's a difficult area to live in.
Tomorrow we go to another community called Badia. It's another large slum.
One of the hardest parts about being here is seeing what the Church is doing. Nigeria is home of the mega-church. I've never seen churches to this magnitude. There are many and they are large. Prosperity gospel is everywhere. To be rich is to be blessed. I just can't believe that. When I walk these communities and see the beauty of these children, cursed is definitely not what they are. They are in a situation they cannot control, but can be changed.
Please pray for us as we try to interpret and process this all. It's entirely different from South Africa (and many other countries we work in).
Much love.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Shoes.
So I have a pair of shoes, and they are my favourite shoes! I got them in the summer of 2007 on my way to Cornerstone Festival in Illinois. Some of my friends (shout out VJWC!) decorated them for me beautifully with a sharpee marker. They're my favourite shoes.
I've worn them out like crazy. Firstly, I'm not easy on my shoes. Secondly, Africa is not easy on shoes. I've included some pictures.
All year I've been hearing from numerous people in Hands, in the villages, everywhere, about my shoes. Community people say things like, "We may be poor, but we don't need to wear shoes like that" or Hands people say things like, "You look like a vulnerable child".
The problem is, I just don't care. I love my shoes and the trashier they get, the more I love them.
I decided, though, that it was time to buy new shoes. Not because I was planning on replacing my beloved shoes, but because in two days I'll be walking around slums in Nigeria and (please look at the pictures) bottomless shoes are not ideal.
I went to a store called Jet to find some cheeaaap shoes. I was looking for a pair of sandals (for Moz, which was incredible by the way) and a pair of shoes for Nigeria.
I took my beloved shoes off as I tried on different shoes. I walked around the store for about 20 minutes with different shoes on my feet. Finally, I found a pair of sandals (but no shoes) and began trying to locate my beloved shoes.
The aisles were clean.
I asked the lady working if she had seen my shoes. She gives me a strange look and says, "Oh.. those were your shoes." She began telling the rest of the ladies (in a language I do not fully understand) and they all had very surprised looks on their faces. They were shocked for two reasons: 1. A white girl had shoes like a vulnerable child; 2. The white girl with the vulnerable child shoes was looking for the vulnerable child shoes, as if she wanted them.
One lady began to leave the store and returned with my beloved shoes. She had thrown them in the garbage. Not the garbage in the store. The garbage outside the store. I proudly took them back as the entire store stared, mouths agape.
I'm really not sure what to do with my beloved shoes. I promised a few people I'd toss them, but every time I try, I hear the shoes cry a little and I swear I see a tear..
I've worn them out like crazy. Firstly, I'm not easy on my shoes. Secondly, Africa is not easy on shoes. I've included some pictures.
All year I've been hearing from numerous people in Hands, in the villages, everywhere, about my shoes. Community people say things like, "We may be poor, but we don't need to wear shoes like that" or Hands people say things like, "You look like a vulnerable child".
The problem is, I just don't care. I love my shoes and the trashier they get, the more I love them.
I decided, though, that it was time to buy new shoes. Not because I was planning on replacing my beloved shoes, but because in two days I'll be walking around slums in Nigeria and (please look at the pictures) bottomless shoes are not ideal.
I went to a store called Jet to find some cheeaaap shoes. I was looking for a pair of sandals (for Moz, which was incredible by the way) and a pair of shoes for Nigeria.
I took my beloved shoes off as I tried on different shoes. I walked around the store for about 20 minutes with different shoes on my feet. Finally, I found a pair of sandals (but no shoes) and began trying to locate my beloved shoes.
The aisles were clean.
I asked the lady working if she had seen my shoes. She gives me a strange look and says, "Oh.. those were your shoes." She began telling the rest of the ladies (in a language I do not fully understand) and they all had very surprised looks on their faces. They were shocked for two reasons: 1. A white girl had shoes like a vulnerable child; 2. The white girl with the vulnerable child shoes was looking for the vulnerable child shoes, as if she wanted them.
One lady began to leave the store and returned with my beloved shoes. She had thrown them in the garbage. Not the garbage in the store. The garbage outside the store. I proudly took them back as the entire store stared, mouths agape.
I'm really not sure what to do with my beloved shoes. I promised a few people I'd toss them, but every time I try, I hear the shoes cry a little and I swear I see a tear..
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Went to the chapel and we got ma-a-arried
Prag and Levy got married on Saturday and it was a great day! It was such an honour to be a bridesmaid and loads of fun too. I can't say that I got much work done the week before the wedding, but being a bridesmaid is Kingdom work too, you know. On Friday I got my nails done: toes and fingers. You should SEE my nails. Spiffy. And on the day of the wedding I got my make-up done. She wasn't too bad for an Afrikaans lady. If you've been to South Africa, you'll know what I mean when I hint that Afrikaans ladies make-up is not the most natural looking, so I was a bit scared. She did it nicely except I did have to wipe off the dark lip liner... it was sick. I did it when she left because I felt bad.
It was a very short wedding. (In comparison to my family weddings which the party starts around 4 and usually ends around 3am). The ceremony was at 10 (more like 10:30) and ended just after 11. Then the reception started around 2 until 4. The dance party was minimal but epic with a room full of Africans. It was a really nice wedding. Prag looked stunning, as usual. I'm sure pictures will be up soon.
On the beach, in the bar, on the beach in the bar
Here's my itinerary for the last month. Why am I writing it to you? I'm just excited.
Nov 9-13 Wrapping up Bushbuckridge, with a 2010 planning meeting on the Friday
Nov 16 Richard Brown is coming to see Bushbuckridge
Nov 17-20 Going to the BEACH in Mozambique. NOw this is exciting for me because I haven't been to a beach of ANY kind since Summer 2007 in Canada. I haven't even seen the ocean in South Africa yet, which is quite sad.
Nov 24-Dec 8 Going to Nigeria (Kano&Lagos) to visit the community schools and do workshops with the teachers. Most time will be spent in Lagos.
Dec 9-14 Packing, visiting, chilling, relaxing all-cooling shooting some bball off the side of the school
Dec 15 Flying home
Dec 16 Arriving in Calgary laaaaate
Dec 20/21 Road trip with Alihaha to Lloydmonster
Please pray for me as I wrap up Bushbuckridge and move onto Nigeria. I'm excited for Nigeria but struggling to finish up Bushbuckridge. Pray for strength and perseverance. We're tired.
Note: "On the beach, in the bar" ... anytime I think of going to the beach, this little phrase pops in my mind and usually out of my mouth and further directly translating into the stomach action. My Father Part 1 (Tom) used to always sit us on his stomach and say over and over "On the beach, in the bar, on the beach, in the bar, on the beach, in the bar, ..." and would make his stomach flat when he said "beach" and push his belly out when he said "bar". It's sort of stuck with me.
It was a very short wedding. (In comparison to my family weddings which the party starts around 4 and usually ends around 3am). The ceremony was at 10 (more like 10:30) and ended just after 11. Then the reception started around 2 until 4. The dance party was minimal but epic with a room full of Africans. It was a really nice wedding. Prag looked stunning, as usual. I'm sure pictures will be up soon.
On the beach, in the bar, on the beach in the bar
Here's my itinerary for the last month. Why am I writing it to you? I'm just excited.
Nov 9-13 Wrapping up Bushbuckridge, with a 2010 planning meeting on the Friday
Nov 16 Richard Brown is coming to see Bushbuckridge
Nov 17-20 Going to the BEACH in Mozambique. NOw this is exciting for me because I haven't been to a beach of ANY kind since Summer 2007 in Canada. I haven't even seen the ocean in South Africa yet, which is quite sad.
Nov 24-Dec 8 Going to Nigeria (Kano&Lagos) to visit the community schools and do workshops with the teachers. Most time will be spent in Lagos.
Dec 9-14 Packing, visiting, chilling, relaxing all-cooling shooting some bball off the side of the school
Dec 15 Flying home
Dec 16 Arriving in Calgary laaaaate
Dec 20/21 Road trip with Alihaha to Lloydmonster
Please pray for me as I wrap up Bushbuckridge and move onto Nigeria. I'm excited for Nigeria but struggling to finish up Bushbuckridge. Pray for strength and perseverance. We're tired.
Note: "On the beach, in the bar" ... anytime I think of going to the beach, this little phrase pops in my mind and usually out of my mouth and further directly translating into the stomach action. My Father Part 1 (Tom) used to always sit us on his stomach and say over and over "On the beach, in the bar, on the beach, in the bar, on the beach, in the bar, ..." and would make his stomach flat when he said "beach" and push his belly out when he said "bar". It's sort of stuck with me.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Save the cheerleader, save the world!
It’s been far too long and I apoligize. It’s not easy to blog. Sometimes I don’t think what I write would be of any interest to anyone. But here’s an update.
Since Zambia I’ve found myself incredibly busy with the office in Bushbuckridge. We did a Pastor’s training, countless workshops, and much planning for 2010. We had a team from the UK for 10 days and it was a very positive experience. Right now I’m hosting a team from First Assembly Church in Calgary and praying it is positive as well. There are two people that began working with our Bushbuckridge team, Pontso from Lesotho and Kennedy from Zambia, and I’ve spent a lot of time helping them to understand Hands, involve them, and training them up to take on some roles of their own. It’s been incredibly exhausting but the fruit will be very impacting and probably really juicy and delicious.
It’s been confirmed! I’m going to Nigeria Nov 24-Dec 8. I’m so so excited! I’ll finally be doing community school work. There are three areas we work in: Lagos, Kano, Ibadan. There are multiple community schools that we’ve started up in each area within the slums. I’ll be assessing the schools and then doing a workshop for the teachers based on what I see. It’s really strange going through teacher training manuals and reading up on assessment & evaluation, teaching methods, learning profiles etc. It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about being a teacher, so this is really exciting. The other day I did a workshop with one of the communities and felt so much like a teacher and was SO excited and realized how much I LOVE teaching. Nigeria will be an interesting place though. Basically it holds ¼ of Africa’s entire population and they really want to be like America, so… it’ll be interesting.
On the note of teaching, I’ve reactivated my subbing contract with Holy Rosary and am already getting booked for dates upon my arrival home. I’m pretty excited about that too.
I organized Canadian Thanksgiving once again this year and it was a HUGE success. There were approximately 50 people there. We even found turkey this year, so that’s a plus. Will and I baked a butt-load of pumpkin pies (made out of carrots). They were delicious but it honestly took us until 10:30 pm, which was unfortunate. I also organized Halloween this year. We didn’t do it last year. We bought lots of candy, made popcorn balls, and rented movies. We rented this one movie called Trick’r’Treat. It was kind of scary, kind of awkward, and kind of a lot of things. But perfect for Halloween, I guess. I dressed as Peter Pan. Classic. But my tights were too itchy so I really only resided in Neverland for 30 minutes. Other people dressed as Simon Peter (not bad), Granny (pretty good), a recreational golfer (laaame Jed), a missionary (bruuuutal Brooke). There were a ton of people. [Insert Canadian sarcasm] Not the best party I’ve ever put together. Need to seriously take this one back to the PPC.
I stayed in BBR all last week and it was great! But I somehow came down with something. I haven’t had a voice since Friday. Greasy.
I LOVE HEROES! I just discovered how awesome the show is. I crushed season 1 and 2 recently. It’s the kind of show that you feel like you’re in and even though you stop watching it, you look around and wonder what kind of powers everyone has and feel like you could just start flying or stopping time.
Speaking of shows, I just finished Season 5 of the Office. Congrats Jim & Pam!!!
On Saturday is Levy and Prag’s wedding. I’m pretty excited. I’m a bridesmaid and if you know anything about African weddings, it’s not an easy task. We’ve been rehearsing for over a month now. You don’t just walk up the aisle, you dance, so we’ve been learning all the steps. We got Zambian outfits made and it’s going to be the party of the year. But Prag is making me grow my nails out, straighten my hair, wax my legs and wear make-up. Barf.
Lastly I’d like to give a shout out to my brother, Rob, for running for mayor of Lloydmonster. I heard you did well and spoke well and I was rooting for you! I’m sorry to hear you didn’t make the cut.
Love and miss you all! Only 6 weeks!
Kristal Dawn
Since Zambia I’ve found myself incredibly busy with the office in Bushbuckridge. We did a Pastor’s training, countless workshops, and much planning for 2010. We had a team from the UK for 10 days and it was a very positive experience. Right now I’m hosting a team from First Assembly Church in Calgary and praying it is positive as well. There are two people that began working with our Bushbuckridge team, Pontso from Lesotho and Kennedy from Zambia, and I’ve spent a lot of time helping them to understand Hands, involve them, and training them up to take on some roles of their own. It’s been incredibly exhausting but the fruit will be very impacting and probably really juicy and delicious.
It’s been confirmed! I’m going to Nigeria Nov 24-Dec 8. I’m so so excited! I’ll finally be doing community school work. There are three areas we work in: Lagos, Kano, Ibadan. There are multiple community schools that we’ve started up in each area within the slums. I’ll be assessing the schools and then doing a workshop for the teachers based on what I see. It’s really strange going through teacher training manuals and reading up on assessment & evaluation, teaching methods, learning profiles etc. It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about being a teacher, so this is really exciting. The other day I did a workshop with one of the communities and felt so much like a teacher and was SO excited and realized how much I LOVE teaching. Nigeria will be an interesting place though. Basically it holds ¼ of Africa’s entire population and they really want to be like America, so… it’ll be interesting.
On the note of teaching, I’ve reactivated my subbing contract with Holy Rosary and am already getting booked for dates upon my arrival home. I’m pretty excited about that too.
I organized Canadian Thanksgiving once again this year and it was a HUGE success. There were approximately 50 people there. We even found turkey this year, so that’s a plus. Will and I baked a butt-load of pumpkin pies (made out of carrots). They were delicious but it honestly took us until 10:30 pm, which was unfortunate. I also organized Halloween this year. We didn’t do it last year. We bought lots of candy, made popcorn balls, and rented movies. We rented this one movie called Trick’r’Treat. It was kind of scary, kind of awkward, and kind of a lot of things. But perfect for Halloween, I guess. I dressed as Peter Pan. Classic. But my tights were too itchy so I really only resided in Neverland for 30 minutes. Other people dressed as Simon Peter (not bad), Granny (pretty good), a recreational golfer (laaame Jed), a missionary (bruuuutal Brooke). There were a ton of people. [Insert Canadian sarcasm] Not the best party I’ve ever put together. Need to seriously take this one back to the PPC.
I stayed in BBR all last week and it was great! But I somehow came down with something. I haven’t had a voice since Friday. Greasy.
I LOVE HEROES! I just discovered how awesome the show is. I crushed season 1 and 2 recently. It’s the kind of show that you feel like you’re in and even though you stop watching it, you look around and wonder what kind of powers everyone has and feel like you could just start flying or stopping time.
Speaking of shows, I just finished Season 5 of the Office. Congrats Jim & Pam!!!
On Saturday is Levy and Prag’s wedding. I’m pretty excited. I’m a bridesmaid and if you know anything about African weddings, it’s not an easy task. We’ve been rehearsing for over a month now. You don’t just walk up the aisle, you dance, so we’ve been learning all the steps. We got Zambian outfits made and it’s going to be the party of the year. But Prag is making me grow my nails out, straighten my hair, wax my legs and wear make-up. Barf.
Lastly I’d like to give a shout out to my brother, Rob, for running for mayor of Lloydmonster. I heard you did well and spoke well and I was rooting for you! I’m sorry to hear you didn’t make the cut.
Love and miss you all! Only 6 weeks!
Kristal Dawn
Monday, September 14, 2009
just pick one
I have so many stories to tell. Spending a month in Zambia makes it inevitable. I don’t even know where to begin. Which kind would you like?
Maybe a story of a girl named Elizabeth who destroyed me while I stared into her big, sad eyes then, days later, gave me hope as she smiled into mine.
Maybe a story of surviving in a grass hut deep in the wild African bush, dodging hippos and following lions on foot.
Maybe a story about a shunned man who sacrificed his own. Or perhaps I need to add onto that story the way I ignored God’s prompt for me to talk to him and the way I denied this man the opportunity to receive something big from God. But then I’d also have to add that it eats me inside weeks later.
But maybe I could tell a story about two of the most inspirational people I’ve ever met.
Or I could tell a story that one just doesn’t tell home about. Oh right, forget about it.
But then I could tell a story of the way God is revealing so much to me about the power of His Son and the way my heart just leaps when I think of this hope that anchors my soul.
Or I could tell a story of a humbling moment when a widow named Beauty wrapped her shawl around me, looked into my eyes and called me a Mother of this Nation.
Did I mention the story about the wild African bush and the hippo staring at me, his big eyes going “BLINK BLINK?” I think so.
Maybe a story about saying good-bye to 80 weeping and wailing children, getting on the bus only to find something is wrong with the bus and sitting staring for 20 minutes longer at these, let me emphasize, weeping and wailing children.
Or the story about the day I received a big fat bag of Hint of Lime chips. Sigh.
Or a story about my miracle phone. The story is something along the lines of driving deep into the bush, peeing on the side of the road, losing my phone, and then finding it again two days later.
Oh, don’t forget to let me tell you the story about how God is the greatest romance of my life. It’s a good one.
PS - It’s late at night and I find myself missing home terribly but strangely content. Lying on my bed, listening to a Vinyl Café story talk about jock straps, hockey, and Canadian Tire, eating Nerds, looking at a beautifully written letter typed on a sheet ripped out of a magazine, I can’t help but be so thankful for incredible friends.
Thank you.
Maybe a story of a girl named Elizabeth who destroyed me while I stared into her big, sad eyes then, days later, gave me hope as she smiled into mine.
Maybe a story of surviving in a grass hut deep in the wild African bush, dodging hippos and following lions on foot.
Maybe a story about a shunned man who sacrificed his own. Or perhaps I need to add onto that story the way I ignored God’s prompt for me to talk to him and the way I denied this man the opportunity to receive something big from God. But then I’d also have to add that it eats me inside weeks later.
But maybe I could tell a story about two of the most inspirational people I’ve ever met.
Or I could tell a story that one just doesn’t tell home about. Oh right, forget about it.
But then I could tell a story of the way God is revealing so much to me about the power of His Son and the way my heart just leaps when I think of this hope that anchors my soul.
Or I could tell a story of a humbling moment when a widow named Beauty wrapped her shawl around me, looked into my eyes and called me a Mother of this Nation.
Did I mention the story about the wild African bush and the hippo staring at me, his big eyes going “BLINK BLINK?” I think so.
Maybe a story about saying good-bye to 80 weeping and wailing children, getting on the bus only to find something is wrong with the bus and sitting staring for 20 minutes longer at these, let me emphasize, weeping and wailing children.
Or the story about the day I received a big fat bag of Hint of Lime chips. Sigh.
Or a story about my miracle phone. The story is something along the lines of driving deep into the bush, peeing on the side of the road, losing my phone, and then finding it again two days later.
Oh, don’t forget to let me tell you the story about how God is the greatest romance of my life. It’s a good one.
PS - It’s late at night and I find myself missing home terribly but strangely content. Lying on my bed, listening to a Vinyl Café story talk about jock straps, hockey, and Canadian Tire, eating Nerds, looking at a beautifully written letter typed on a sheet ripped out of a magazine, I can’t help but be so thankful for incredible friends.
Thank you.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The Real Africa
Mulishani from Zambia!
Before I get into it, my phone number while I’m in Zambia is +260 96 858 3910. I’m pretty sure it’s dialed the same as my South Africa number, so from Canada, dial: 011 260 96 858 3910. If that doesn’t work, e-mail and let me know so I can figure it out. Or perhaps you can just google it.
I arrived here finally on Sunday. Let me tell you, it was hectic.
I spent the entire week before coming to Zambia in Bushbuckridge with a woman named Grace in the village of Delani. I wrote about her earlier. It was such an incredible and inspiring time. I’m trying to decide how much include on this blog. Brace yourselves, I think it’s going to be long. She is a widow; her husband died a couple years ago from Aids and as she tells me the stories, she brings me to tears and I can tell it is still so fresh and so painful. She lives with her three children (Memory, Mordeca, and the second born which I can’t remember the name) and her husband’s youngest brother (I’m awful at this name game today). The second born was not around the entire time I was there, as he ran off to the initiation school without his mother’s permission. The initiation school is another topic of discussion, but basically they spend 3 months in the bush learning how to be a man. They miss 3 months of school and most can never catch up. Every day I walked from Delani to Hluvukani to catch the taxi with a man named Petrus. It is about a 4 km walk each way. He is an inspiring man as well. Sometimes I feel so discouraged in South Africa with the behaviour of men. I always thought it was not a stereotype if there were no exceptions. But Petrus is an exception. He works at the clinic with disabled people and also pastors a church. But unlike all other pastors who insist on not having a name, but rather “Pastor”, he ensures he is referred to as “Brother”. One thing that really stood out to me when we walked together is his love for children. I also found this rare. He would greet children as they passed. Greet children. This is a concept also foreign to me with South African men. But Petrus, he is different. I found a new love for South Africa and the work I’m doing. When people like these exist in the communities, I know why I am here.
I left Bushbuckridge on Friday and returned home by 4:00 pm. I busied my butt in the office getting everything settled before I left, hung out with some dear friends, and then packed until 2:00 am. I woke at 4:30 am to head off to Nelspruit to catch the bus to Johannesburg, not knowing that I was heading towards a very frustrating and (now) comical day.
My bus arrived a little late to the airport. I was scheduled to leave at 12:20 pm and arrived only at 10:00 am. The gates close an hour before the flight. The airport in Jo’burg is chaos and big and, I think, poorly organized. So I struggled to find where the heck I was going. I got to the check-in finally and they couldn’t bring up my ticket. I was at the wrong check-in and wasn’t flying with South Africa Airways, but South Africa Airways Airlink. I got to the right check-in and the woman couldn’t find my booking. She asked another woman and she couldn’t find my booking as well. They sent me to the ticket counter and told me to get my … e-something or other. So I went and the woman found my booking but said it was cancelled. (Okay, please let me reiterate I arrived at 10:00 and the gate closes at 11:20 for my flight). The woman said the booking was cancelled because it never got paid. When I booked the ticket I told the travel agent to charge it to Hands’ account, but I guess Hands never paid it. She re-booked it and said I can still have it but will have to pay. I gave her my card. Declined. I could feel a knot in my throat forming, the kind when tears are preparing to come. I searched around for a FNB (my bank in South Africa) to check how much money I had. I went to the ATM – Out of Order – so I had to stand in the line to get to the teller. The ticket cost R4,500. I had R4,000. The day before I had spent R900 on a coordinators meeting that Pepfar is to reimburse me for and a week before I had lent out R3,000. Pity. Oh, I also had no airtime for my phone, so that made things difficult too. I called Lynn and asked him to quickly drive to a FNB and deposit R500. That way it is instantly in my account. Now it was about 30 minutes before the gate closed. Lynn finally deposited the money, but it is too late. It was 11:20. I asked the woman about the next flight. It left the next morning. I asked to book that flight but now it cost R4,900. LUCKILY, Lynn deposited R1,200 so I could pay for the ticket and have R300 leftover. Now I have to figure out where to stay in Jo’burg until tomorrow. Again, luckily (for me but not for them) Lynn and Jayme were spending the weekend in Jo’burg to celebrate Jayme’s birthday and their 6th anniversary. They said I can join them on their anniversary celebrations and stay with them, but I needed to get a shuttle to Pretoria. I went to the shuttle place and the shuttle cost R480. I only had R300. I could feel the knot all day, now my eyes began feeling a little moist. I asked another lady and she tried to help. She brought me in her little office and grabbed a man. The man said he could take me. I said I now just need to go to Sandton (an area in Jo’burg). The lady said she will get her driver since I don’t need to go to Pretoria anymore. This made the man mad because he really wanted to take me. They argued over me a little bit and the man sounded desperate to take me. He said he can take me for R300. I’m feeling a little sketched out at this point, a little stressed out, and ready for a break down. They both stared at me awaiting my decision. I asked the man what he is driving (I just got a sketchy feeling from him). He said it was a shuttle, but I assumed it was a taxi. Jo’burg is dangerous and taking taxi’s also dangerous. I asked him if I was the only one going or if he had other passengers. He said I was the only one. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable going with him alone. He gave me a look like I was crazy. Jayme called and I tried to explain the situation to her, in code, while the two stared at me. She said her and Lynn will just pick me up. The man left the room and then I just broke down and cried in front of the shuttle lady. I was a sad case.
But I spent the evening with Lynn and Jayme, watched some live music (a Nigerian guy who had a sound similar to Ben Harper), and ate great food. I feel bad I joined them on their Anniversary night, but very appreciative of their generous and hospitable character.
I finally arrived to Zambia and it’s beautiful. It’s safe! I can walk around alone! I don’t live in a prison! I spent some time with Jessie before she left, visited some communities, and began preparations for my church team to arrive. I also got to visit Ben and Alicia, my old youth pastors from Lloyd. They are currently in Luanshya (where I am) with an organization called FCE. It was awesome! SO good to catch up and so crazy to catch up in Africa together. Very random. But I’ll be seeing them again on Saturday before they head off.
I’ll stop here. Sorry it was long, but there was a lot to tell.
I’ll be in Zambia until September 3, so feel free to call.
Love you all.
Before I get into it, my phone number while I’m in Zambia is +260 96 858 3910. I’m pretty sure it’s dialed the same as my South Africa number, so from Canada, dial: 011 260 96 858 3910. If that doesn’t work, e-mail and let me know so I can figure it out. Or perhaps you can just google it.
I arrived here finally on Sunday. Let me tell you, it was hectic.
I spent the entire week before coming to Zambia in Bushbuckridge with a woman named Grace in the village of Delani. I wrote about her earlier. It was such an incredible and inspiring time. I’m trying to decide how much include on this blog. Brace yourselves, I think it’s going to be long. She is a widow; her husband died a couple years ago from Aids and as she tells me the stories, she brings me to tears and I can tell it is still so fresh and so painful. She lives with her three children (Memory, Mordeca, and the second born which I can’t remember the name) and her husband’s youngest brother (I’m awful at this name game today). The second born was not around the entire time I was there, as he ran off to the initiation school without his mother’s permission. The initiation school is another topic of discussion, but basically they spend 3 months in the bush learning how to be a man. They miss 3 months of school and most can never catch up. Every day I walked from Delani to Hluvukani to catch the taxi with a man named Petrus. It is about a 4 km walk each way. He is an inspiring man as well. Sometimes I feel so discouraged in South Africa with the behaviour of men. I always thought it was not a stereotype if there were no exceptions. But Petrus is an exception. He works at the clinic with disabled people and also pastors a church. But unlike all other pastors who insist on not having a name, but rather “Pastor”, he ensures he is referred to as “Brother”. One thing that really stood out to me when we walked together is his love for children. I also found this rare. He would greet children as they passed. Greet children. This is a concept also foreign to me with South African men. But Petrus, he is different. I found a new love for South Africa and the work I’m doing. When people like these exist in the communities, I know why I am here.
I left Bushbuckridge on Friday and returned home by 4:00 pm. I busied my butt in the office getting everything settled before I left, hung out with some dear friends, and then packed until 2:00 am. I woke at 4:30 am to head off to Nelspruit to catch the bus to Johannesburg, not knowing that I was heading towards a very frustrating and (now) comical day.
My bus arrived a little late to the airport. I was scheduled to leave at 12:20 pm and arrived only at 10:00 am. The gates close an hour before the flight. The airport in Jo’burg is chaos and big and, I think, poorly organized. So I struggled to find where the heck I was going. I got to the check-in finally and they couldn’t bring up my ticket. I was at the wrong check-in and wasn’t flying with South Africa Airways, but South Africa Airways Airlink. I got to the right check-in and the woman couldn’t find my booking. She asked another woman and she couldn’t find my booking as well. They sent me to the ticket counter and told me to get my … e-something or other. So I went and the woman found my booking but said it was cancelled. (Okay, please let me reiterate I arrived at 10:00 and the gate closes at 11:20 for my flight). The woman said the booking was cancelled because it never got paid. When I booked the ticket I told the travel agent to charge it to Hands’ account, but I guess Hands never paid it. She re-booked it and said I can still have it but will have to pay. I gave her my card. Declined. I could feel a knot in my throat forming, the kind when tears are preparing to come. I searched around for a FNB (my bank in South Africa) to check how much money I had. I went to the ATM – Out of Order – so I had to stand in the line to get to the teller. The ticket cost R4,500. I had R4,000. The day before I had spent R900 on a coordinators meeting that Pepfar is to reimburse me for and a week before I had lent out R3,000. Pity. Oh, I also had no airtime for my phone, so that made things difficult too. I called Lynn and asked him to quickly drive to a FNB and deposit R500. That way it is instantly in my account. Now it was about 30 minutes before the gate closed. Lynn finally deposited the money, but it is too late. It was 11:20. I asked the woman about the next flight. It left the next morning. I asked to book that flight but now it cost R4,900. LUCKILY, Lynn deposited R1,200 so I could pay for the ticket and have R300 leftover. Now I have to figure out where to stay in Jo’burg until tomorrow. Again, luckily (for me but not for them) Lynn and Jayme were spending the weekend in Jo’burg to celebrate Jayme’s birthday and their 6th anniversary. They said I can join them on their anniversary celebrations and stay with them, but I needed to get a shuttle to Pretoria. I went to the shuttle place and the shuttle cost R480. I only had R300. I could feel the knot all day, now my eyes began feeling a little moist. I asked another lady and she tried to help. She brought me in her little office and grabbed a man. The man said he could take me. I said I now just need to go to Sandton (an area in Jo’burg). The lady said she will get her driver since I don’t need to go to Pretoria anymore. This made the man mad because he really wanted to take me. They argued over me a little bit and the man sounded desperate to take me. He said he can take me for R300. I’m feeling a little sketched out at this point, a little stressed out, and ready for a break down. They both stared at me awaiting my decision. I asked the man what he is driving (I just got a sketchy feeling from him). He said it was a shuttle, but I assumed it was a taxi. Jo’burg is dangerous and taking taxi’s also dangerous. I asked him if I was the only one going or if he had other passengers. He said I was the only one. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable going with him alone. He gave me a look like I was crazy. Jayme called and I tried to explain the situation to her, in code, while the two stared at me. She said her and Lynn will just pick me up. The man left the room and then I just broke down and cried in front of the shuttle lady. I was a sad case.
But I spent the evening with Lynn and Jayme, watched some live music (a Nigerian guy who had a sound similar to Ben Harper), and ate great food. I feel bad I joined them on their Anniversary night, but very appreciative of their generous and hospitable character.
I finally arrived to Zambia and it’s beautiful. It’s safe! I can walk around alone! I don’t live in a prison! I spent some time with Jessie before she left, visited some communities, and began preparations for my church team to arrive. I also got to visit Ben and Alicia, my old youth pastors from Lloyd. They are currently in Luanshya (where I am) with an organization called FCE. It was awesome! SO good to catch up and so crazy to catch up in Africa together. Very random. But I’ll be seeing them again on Saturday before they head off.
I’ll stop here. Sorry it was long, but there was a lot to tell.
I’ll be in Zambia until September 3, so feel free to call.
Love you all.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Living Truth airs again
Last year, a church in Toronto came and recorded some of the work Hands is doing in South Africa and Mozambique. They shared the stories of a couple families from each country. They came back again this year to film new stories in Zimbabwe and Mozambique but also to give an update on where the families from last year are now. I would highly suggest watching the Zimbabwe stories. Zim is an incredibly difficult country, as I'm sure you have all heard in the news.
The two families from South Africa are in Bushbuckridge, the area I'm coordinating. I spent a great deal of time preparing for them to do the second filming.
Please watch so you can have a little bit of an insight of what's happening here!!
Dates for broadcast are as follows:
Oct 11 Mozambique
Oct 18 Zimbabwe and South Africa updates
You can check out www.livingtruth.ca for specific broadcast times. Please send this on to your friends at home who have the opportunity to watch.
For Albertans it looks like it will be broadcast on CTS at 4pm MST, but just test this before advertising.
Thanks for your interest and support of this exciting event!
The two families from South Africa are in Bushbuckridge, the area I'm coordinating. I spent a great deal of time preparing for them to do the second filming.
Please watch so you can have a little bit of an insight of what's happening here!!
Dates for broadcast are as follows:
Oct 11 Mozambique
Oct 18 Zimbabwe and South Africa updates
You can check out www.livingtruth.ca for specific broadcast times. Please send this on to your friends at home who have the opportunity to watch.
For Albertans it looks like it will be broadcast on CTS at 4pm MST, but just test this before advertising.
Thanks for your interest and support of this exciting event!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Glimpse of the Future...
DATE 15JULY09
HANDS AT WORK
GADSBY/KRISTAL MS
PO BOX 3534 WHITE RIVER MPUMALANGA
SOUTH AFRICA
1240
SERVICE DATE FROM TO DEPART ARRIVE
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC JOHANNESBURG AMSTERDAM 0005 1020
NW 8422 WEDNESDAY O.R. TAMBO INT SCHIPHOL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: BOEING 777-200/300
KL 0592 FLIGHT OPERATED BY KL KLM ROYAL DUTCH AIRLIN
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC AMSTERDAM MINNEAPOLIS MN 1530 1750
NW 55 WEDNESDAY SCHIPHOL ST PAUL INTL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: AIRBUS INDUSTRIE A330-300
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC MINNEAPOLIS MN CALGARY AB 2140 2343
NW 1541 WEDNESDAY ST PAUL INTL CALGARY INTL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: AIRBUS INDUSTRIE A319
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
HANDS AT WORK
GADSBY/KRISTAL MS
PO BOX 3534 WHITE RIVER MPUMALANGA
SOUTH AFRICA
1240
SERVICE DATE FROM TO DEPART ARRIVE
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC JOHANNESBURG AMSTERDAM 0005 1020
NW 8422 WEDNESDAY O.R. TAMBO INT SCHIPHOL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: BOEING 777-200/300
KL 0592 FLIGHT OPERATED BY KL KLM ROYAL DUTCH AIRLIN
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC AMSTERDAM MINNEAPOLIS MN 1530 1750
NW 55 WEDNESDAY SCHIPHOL ST PAUL INTL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: AIRBUS INDUSTRIE A330-300
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
NORTHWEST AIRLINES 16DEC MINNEAPOLIS MN CALGARY AB 2140 2343
NW 1541 WEDNESDAY ST PAUL INTL CALGARY INTL
Q ECONOMY AIRCRAFT: AIRBUS INDUSTRIE A319
RESERVATION CONFIRMED
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Nokuzola
If you've kept up with my blogs, you should know Nokuzola.
Please pray for her.
Her granny just passed away unexpectedly. Nokuzola was staying with her granny and her little sister Daphney (8). Now that Zola is studying away from home, we're not sure what's going to happen with Daphney and with the house.
Please pray for her.
Her granny just passed away unexpectedly. Nokuzola was staying with her granny and her little sister Daphney (8). Now that Zola is studying away from home, we're not sure what's going to happen with Daphney and with the house.
Amazing Grace
I've struggled for the last few months. I've struggled because I miss home but also because it seems like when moving forward there are way more problems and issues than there are successes. Sometimes I wonder if there is any point to what I'm doing.
And then I meet women like Grace.
She's coordinating a village in the Bushbuckridge area. I went to visit her today to see how everything is going. They started a feeding point a couple months ago and have recently developed a large garden to cook at the feeding point and to give vegetables for children to take home.
When I went to see her garden, it exhausted me looking at it because it is so big, the ground is so hard, and because I know trying to get water is a nightmare. I was very encouraged to see an old mkhulu (grandfather) and young girl working the garden. Grace says the gogos and mkhulus that look after the children work hard in the garden. Also, right after the children eat at the feeding point, they all go to the garden to help fetch water and work the ground.
I asked Grace if she is happy. She says she is very happy and that she can't complain. She says she loves her job because she gets to work with many people and help the children. She says all of us are together, me and her are doing the same job, equally important. She then takes me by the hand and walks away from the garden. She says she's HIV positive. Her husband died of Aids and now she stays alone with her 3 children. She lives openly about her status. All the orphans and care workers know about her status. She says she owes it to the children and it is her responsibility to educate them and care for them.
At the feeding point, the most important thing for her is to bring the children up in the way of the Lord. Before they eat, they pray and share Bible stories. I asked her if she's seen a difference since they began helping the children. She says a BIG difference. The children are happy. They used to have no one to open up to and were shy in the beginning. Now they tell them everything. The children tell her about life at home, their struggles, what makes them sad, what makes them happy. She says there were many who didn't go to church and now they have begun going with her!
I told Grace I'm going to come stay with her.
And then I meet women like Grace.
She's coordinating a village in the Bushbuckridge area. I went to visit her today to see how everything is going. They started a feeding point a couple months ago and have recently developed a large garden to cook at the feeding point and to give vegetables for children to take home.
When I went to see her garden, it exhausted me looking at it because it is so big, the ground is so hard, and because I know trying to get water is a nightmare. I was very encouraged to see an old mkhulu (grandfather) and young girl working the garden. Grace says the gogos and mkhulus that look after the children work hard in the garden. Also, right after the children eat at the feeding point, they all go to the garden to help fetch water and work the ground.
I asked Grace if she is happy. She says she is very happy and that she can't complain. She says she loves her job because she gets to work with many people and help the children. She says all of us are together, me and her are doing the same job, equally important. She then takes me by the hand and walks away from the garden. She says she's HIV positive. Her husband died of Aids and now she stays alone with her 3 children. She lives openly about her status. All the orphans and care workers know about her status. She says she owes it to the children and it is her responsibility to educate them and care for them.
At the feeding point, the most important thing for her is to bring the children up in the way of the Lord. Before they eat, they pray and share Bible stories. I asked her if she's seen a difference since they began helping the children. She says a BIG difference. The children are happy. They used to have no one to open up to and were shy in the beginning. Now they tell them everything. The children tell her about life at home, their struggles, what makes them sad, what makes them happy. She says there were many who didn't go to church and now they have begun going with her!
I told Grace I'm going to come stay with her.
Friday, June 26, 2009
A few stories in the key of D
I could be your hero baby
A couple weekends ago I spent 4 days at a pleasant little secluded guest house in the Sabie mountains to get away. I basically laid in my bed for 4 days. It was great. I read and thought and prayed and relaxed. On the last day, Dave and Marilyn came to pick me up and before we left, we took a stroll to the private waterfall on the property. It was the most beautiful waterfall I've ever seen! I think it was mostly because it was private and could get as close as you wanted. There were a lot of pools and streams to frolic in, not to mention you could climb up the waterfall. Two little weenie dogs belonging to the neighbours followed us there. We were a little scared to have them come along, but thought they wouldn't be stupid enough to get into any trouble.
Ha.
I crossed to the other side of the river using a slippery, but relatively safe way to cross and one of the dogs followed me. The stream was shallow and piddly. After playing enough on the one side I crossed back over but the dog had wandered down a bit. Thinking he'd just follow me, I crossed. The dog wasn't so smart. He decided to cross at the WORST possible spot, where the current was strong and the stream fairly wide. We saw the dog and panicked as he attempted to cross. The stream starting taking him away. We freaked out and tried to run to him but there was really nothing we could do. The little furball was doomed. He got carried into a little pool with a tall rock face on one side and extremely rough death-rapids on the other. He tried to climb the rock but couldn't do it. He started to get closer to the rapids. Ok I won't keep you in suspense any longer. I got to the pool just in time, jumped in, and rescued that little guy.
Thank you, thank you.
This is the first day of my life
After saving the dog, my blood was pumping with adrenaline and I realized I've never skinny dipped before. So Dave left, I took off my clothes, and jumped in. ooooWEEEE. It was the best.
Body massage, body massage, everybody come and get one in my garage
Please be warned this is a very awkward story but Brooke encouraged me to tell it. So I'm going to not mention any names. In fact, I'm going to use the name ... Pracidia. I have a friend named Pracidia from a country in Africa, let's call it The Zamibia. She recently told me she loved giving massages. Stoked on this new information, I took up her offer to give me one. I laid on her bed, took off my shirt, and positioned myself for the best back massage of my life. As she's massaging me, she pokes my boobs from the side and says, "I just love boobs." Feeling a little awkward, but knowing African's are open about breasts, I just let it slide. She keeps massage then says, "Let me see your boobs." Awkward level increasing, I denied her request. She then proceeds to tell me that she'll show me hers. Without hearing my answer to the trade, she lifts her shirt and shows me. Not complying to her demands, she continues to massage me. After she finished, I put my shirt back on and she catches a little glimpse. She exclaims, "OH! YOURS ARE NICE!" Short Pause. "Let me touch them." Short Pause. "I'm not lesbian." NOW how do I react to this? Shortly later, after receiving no action, of all people, Lize enters the room: "What's going on in here?" Pracidia says, "Kristal has nice boobs. Do you want to see them Lize?" If you know Lize you'll know she is the perfect person to throw into this situation because she is the most innocent and most likely to melt in awkwardness upon this question. We kind of just slowly and awkwardly leave the room. I sat on my bed feeling absolutely dirty thinking, "What just happened..."
Pshht.. may I have your attention please. I repeat, may I have your attention please
Today I spoke at an HIV/Aids Symposium to a room full of nurses. Who else spoke at it? Well.. lots of doctors. Lots of well-researched, well-prepared, fancy book-writing doctors. Who would've thought I'd be doing such a bizarre thing.
A couple weekends ago I spent 4 days at a pleasant little secluded guest house in the Sabie mountains to get away. I basically laid in my bed for 4 days. It was great. I read and thought and prayed and relaxed. On the last day, Dave and Marilyn came to pick me up and before we left, we took a stroll to the private waterfall on the property. It was the most beautiful waterfall I've ever seen! I think it was mostly because it was private and could get as close as you wanted. There were a lot of pools and streams to frolic in, not to mention you could climb up the waterfall. Two little weenie dogs belonging to the neighbours followed us there. We were a little scared to have them come along, but thought they wouldn't be stupid enough to get into any trouble.
Ha.
I crossed to the other side of the river using a slippery, but relatively safe way to cross and one of the dogs followed me. The stream was shallow and piddly. After playing enough on the one side I crossed back over but the dog had wandered down a bit. Thinking he'd just follow me, I crossed. The dog wasn't so smart. He decided to cross at the WORST possible spot, where the current was strong and the stream fairly wide. We saw the dog and panicked as he attempted to cross. The stream starting taking him away. We freaked out and tried to run to him but there was really nothing we could do. The little furball was doomed. He got carried into a little pool with a tall rock face on one side and extremely rough death-rapids on the other. He tried to climb the rock but couldn't do it. He started to get closer to the rapids. Ok I won't keep you in suspense any longer. I got to the pool just in time, jumped in, and rescued that little guy.
Thank you, thank you.
This is the first day of my life
After saving the dog, my blood was pumping with adrenaline and I realized I've never skinny dipped before. So Dave left, I took off my clothes, and jumped in. ooooWEEEE. It was the best.
Body massage, body massage, everybody come and get one in my garage
Please be warned this is a very awkward story but Brooke encouraged me to tell it. So I'm going to not mention any names. In fact, I'm going to use the name ... Pracidia. I have a friend named Pracidia from a country in Africa, let's call it The Zamibia. She recently told me she loved giving massages. Stoked on this new information, I took up her offer to give me one. I laid on her bed, took off my shirt, and positioned myself for the best back massage of my life. As she's massaging me, she pokes my boobs from the side and says, "I just love boobs." Feeling a little awkward, but knowing African's are open about breasts, I just let it slide. She keeps massage then says, "Let me see your boobs." Awkward level increasing, I denied her request. She then proceeds to tell me that she'll show me hers. Without hearing my answer to the trade, she lifts her shirt and shows me. Not complying to her demands, she continues to massage me. After she finished, I put my shirt back on and she catches a little glimpse. She exclaims, "OH! YOURS ARE NICE!" Short Pause. "Let me touch them." Short Pause. "I'm not lesbian." NOW how do I react to this? Shortly later, after receiving no action, of all people, Lize enters the room: "What's going on in here?" Pracidia says, "Kristal has nice boobs. Do you want to see them Lize?" If you know Lize you'll know she is the perfect person to throw into this situation because she is the most innocent and most likely to melt in awkwardness upon this question. We kind of just slowly and awkwardly leave the room. I sat on my bed feeling absolutely dirty thinking, "What just happened..."
Pshht.. may I have your attention please. I repeat, may I have your attention please
Today I spoke at an HIV/Aids Symposium to a room full of nurses. Who else spoke at it? Well.. lots of doctors. Lots of well-researched, well-prepared, fancy book-writing doctors. Who would've thought I'd be doing such a bizarre thing.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
So close to home.
I'm currently sitting at my desk wearing 3 layers (including plaid flannel) and mittens, drinking Tim Horton's Apple Cinnamon tea left and forgotten in Dave's pocket, listening to Sufjan's Christmas album and just wishing the light drizzle would turn into snow.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Happy Anniversary
Dear Kristal,
Happy Anniversary.
I can't believe it's been a year already today since that first time I laid my eyes on you. You were so green but so ambitious. As soon as your pasty white body stepped off that plane, I knew that I loved you.
That love has grown over the last 365 days.
I love the way you get stuffed up every morning and every night when we are together. I love the way your hair grows wilder and more unmanageable every day. I love the purplish-red glow of your skin after we go for long walks. I love the many days we fall asleep together at 7:00 pm. I love your smell. I love your bravery when walking through the tall grass. I love the way your nose crinkles when you eat chicken feet. I love the way your body shakes when you dance Nkwazi.
Your are the salt in my pepper, you're the Sani in my Bonani, you're the Lion in my Big 5, you're the A of my NC, you're the Bush in my Buckridge, you're the Boere in my Wors!
Siyabonga, Umfatiwami. Ngiyakutsandza. <3
Love,
Africa
XOXO
Happy Anniversary.
I can't believe it's been a year already today since that first time I laid my eyes on you. You were so green but so ambitious. As soon as your pasty white body stepped off that plane, I knew that I loved you.
That love has grown over the last 365 days.
I love the way you get stuffed up every morning and every night when we are together. I love the way your hair grows wilder and more unmanageable every day. I love the purplish-red glow of your skin after we go for long walks. I love the many days we fall asleep together at 7:00 pm. I love your smell. I love your bravery when walking through the tall grass. I love the way your nose crinkles when you eat chicken feet. I love the way your body shakes when you dance Nkwazi.
Your are the salt in my pepper, you're the Sani in my Bonani, you're the Lion in my Big 5, you're the A of my NC, you're the Bush in my Buckridge, you're the Boere in my Wors!
Siyabonga, Umfatiwami. Ngiyakutsandza. <3
Love,
Africa
XOXO
Monday, May 18, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Daddy
A very, very dear friend of mine recently went on a 3 week journey in Israel. She came back with the most amazing story. She said as she traveled through the streets in Jerusalem, she stopped dead when she witnessed a little boy, arms out in front of him, chasing after his father crying, "Abba, Abba".
He called his papa "Abba". It's real. The little Jewish boys actually do cry out to their daddy's saying "Abba".
And as I read Romans 8, it makes it so real.
"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children." Rom 8:15-16
On a different note, I dropped my phone in the drop toilet at Zola's house. In case you don't know what it is, it's an outhouse. Luckily, they fetched it out for me. Don't ask me how... I have no idea. Unluckily, it smelled like poo.
He called his papa "Abba". It's real. The little Jewish boys actually do cry out to their daddy's saying "Abba".
And as I read Romans 8, it makes it so real.
"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children." Rom 8:15-16
On a different note, I dropped my phone in the drop toilet at Zola's house. In case you don't know what it is, it's an outhouse. Luckily, they fetched it out for me. Don't ask me how... I have no idea. Unluckily, it smelled like poo.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Threads of Sincerity
There are days when I'm right where I'm supposed to be,
But mostly I am far away,
Learning to live the way I should,
Learning to love the way you would,
I'm learning to love the way you would.
And today it's been made clear,
That I've walked so far away,
It's easy wanting something more.
I will die.
I will die.
I will die to you.
But mostly I am far away,
Learning to live the way I should,
Learning to love the way you would,
I'm learning to love the way you would.
And today it's been made clear,
That I've walked so far away,
It's easy wanting something more.
I will die.
I will die.
I will die to you.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Clare
I just stayed in a rural village called Clare for the last week and a half. I stayed with a woman named Minah and her husband and her two children Philile (18) and Siyabonga (8). I absolutely fell in love with these two girls. Philile spoke very good English and we spent a lot of time talking about her life and boys and faith.. it was incredible. She's absolutely beautiful inside and out and I just so wish for her to rise up out of the typical future for a young rural South African woman. She has a boyfriend in University who comes to visit once or twice a year ... this already raises huge flags. South African men are not the most faithul and trustworthy in relationships. Siyabonga on the other hand couldn't speak any English or even any Siswati, so we used a lot of hand gestures and pointing. She would try to talk to me in Tsonga anyway and would try to talk very slow for me to understand, but jibberish is jibberish no matter how slow it is. But we really connected. We slept together, her usually ON me. And she always woke very early to be in school by 7. I would wake up also and help her get ready: clasp her shoes, fold her collar, comb her hair... it was one of my favourite times of the day.
I stayed in Clare to really push forward with a feeding program we're starting up in the area, including 13 villages and 700 kids. As exciting as it is that these 700 kids will soon be receiving a meal a day, it is definitely frustrating work. I wanted to cry multiple times a day trying to get the details organized. There are a lot of challenges that come with South Africa: expectations, power hunger, lack of initiative, church politics (I guess this is everywhere) ... but when all these things arise when working together to care for the orphans in these communities, the frustration becomes large scale.
"And if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday"
Isaiah 58:10
True fasting.
I stayed in Clare to really push forward with a feeding program we're starting up in the area, including 13 villages and 700 kids. As exciting as it is that these 700 kids will soon be receiving a meal a day, it is definitely frustrating work. I wanted to cry multiple times a day trying to get the details organized. There are a lot of challenges that come with South Africa: expectations, power hunger, lack of initiative, church politics (I guess this is everywhere) ... but when all these things arise when working together to care for the orphans in these communities, the frustration becomes large scale.
"And if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday"
Isaiah 58:10
True fasting.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Sky is Falling
I have a new roommate. His name is Sebastian. I’m so excited! He’s tall, dark, and handsome and we had a real connection when we first met….
Okay Sebastian is a lizard. And he lives in my room. How did he get there, you ask? He fell from the sky. Seriously. Well he fell from the roof. He has been living in my roof (him and his family, I’m sure) for a long time and usually goes to work around 5 am. It always sounds like he’s drilling through the roof, looking for gold or oil or something. Maybe he’s digging to China. I always awake, convinced he found China. But he never does, until the other morning. I heard him doing his usual digging and then he just fell out of the roof, scurried around a bit and then made himself a home in my armchair. There he stays, very well. I mean, it’s not uncommon for men in Africa to leave home to find work. We’ve worked out a deal, though. He can have free room and board if he eats all the mosquitoes and spiders. So far so good. I wonder when his family will come to join him.
Where's Sebastian? We often play this game. He's usually creeping on me from some part of the chair.
Can you spot him?
Okay Sebastian is a lizard. And he lives in my room. How did he get there, you ask? He fell from the sky. Seriously. Well he fell from the roof. He has been living in my roof (him and his family, I’m sure) for a long time and usually goes to work around 5 am. It always sounds like he’s drilling through the roof, looking for gold or oil or something. Maybe he’s digging to China. I always awake, convinced he found China. But he never does, until the other morning. I heard him doing his usual digging and then he just fell out of the roof, scurried around a bit and then made himself a home in my armchair. There he stays, very well. I mean, it’s not uncommon for men in Africa to leave home to find work. We’ve worked out a deal, though. He can have free room and board if he eats all the mosquitoes and spiders. So far so good. I wonder when his family will come to join him.
Where's Sebastian? We often play this game. He's usually creeping on me from some part of the chair.
Can you spot him?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I'm too excited to sleep
I sit here after two incredible days feeling far too excited to sleep. I spent two days in Bushbuckridge (the area I'm mostly working in) with George, Levy, Vivienne, and Simon. We spent significant time in each area dreaming, praying, planning, walking, and talking.
I can see it. I can look at Cork and see the fields of maize that will feed all the kids. I can see that place healed of old wounds and divisions and finally coming together. I can see the trust regained. I can look at Clare and see the church feeding Lorraine, Clerence and Remember out of its doors, Gogo's working the garden and volunteers looking them in the eye and telling them they matter. I can see it. Seriously, I look over the land, I look at the church and I see it.
I can see Ellery smile again.
This month is what we call RED MONTH. We're pushing hard. We should be bleeding by the end.
I feel very encouraged by the people we have on the ground. Mina is a beautiful woman who deeply cares for her community. She will tear up just talking about it. Her heart goes out to a family: Lorraine, Clerence, and Remember. They are living all alone. Lorraine is the oldest. She's 14. She ensures this family is visited twice a day.
What I've really been feeling lately is that I want to live a life of sacrifice. My mother originally taught me what it means to sacrifice. Through her actions when I was just a babe she taught me that sacrifice is the noblest and most powerful act of love. In this season of my life, this looks like fighting for the millions of young kids (like Victoria and Elizabeth) that have NO parents NO food NO hope and who (like Victoria and Elizabeth) deserve much more. I want to make sure 12 year old girls don't have to sell their bodies to get something to eat. I want to make sure kids have the opportunity to go to school and learn. I want to make sure a family headed by an 11 year old child doesn't feel alone after their parents die. I want to make sure people like Gloria know that their kids will be taken care of when they die. I want to make sure girls like Ellery smile.
I can see it. I can look at Cork and see the fields of maize that will feed all the kids. I can see that place healed of old wounds and divisions and finally coming together. I can see the trust regained. I can look at Clare and see the church feeding Lorraine, Clerence and Remember out of its doors, Gogo's working the garden and volunteers looking them in the eye and telling them they matter. I can see it. Seriously, I look over the land, I look at the church and I see it.
I can see Ellery smile again.
This month is what we call RED MONTH. We're pushing hard. We should be bleeding by the end.
I feel very encouraged by the people we have on the ground. Mina is a beautiful woman who deeply cares for her community. She will tear up just talking about it. Her heart goes out to a family: Lorraine, Clerence, and Remember. They are living all alone. Lorraine is the oldest. She's 14. She ensures this family is visited twice a day.
What I've really been feeling lately is that I want to live a life of sacrifice. My mother originally taught me what it means to sacrifice. Through her actions when I was just a babe she taught me that sacrifice is the noblest and most powerful act of love. In this season of my life, this looks like fighting for the millions of young kids (like Victoria and Elizabeth) that have NO parents NO food NO hope and who (like Victoria and Elizabeth) deserve much more. I want to make sure 12 year old girls don't have to sell their bodies to get something to eat. I want to make sure kids have the opportunity to go to school and learn. I want to make sure a family headed by an 11 year old child doesn't feel alone after their parents die. I want to make sure people like Gloria know that their kids will be taken care of when they die. I want to make sure girls like Ellery smile.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Gloria
On Monday I spent the day doing home-based care in Belfast. I visited a woman named Gloria. She's 34 years old, lives with her brother, and has two children (7 and 10). She was brutally thin and ill. She wasn't even lying in her bed, but rather on the floor. She was in incredible pain. She was shaking and breathing quick and shallow. She really really touched my heart. All I could do was sit on the ground next to her and hold her hand. I tried to speak to her but would choke mid-sentence. I prayed for her: for peace, for rest, and for protection and comfort for her children. As soon as I started praying for her children, she looked up at me with deeply deeply sorrowed eyes and I couldn't do anything but completely break. I promised her I would continue to pray for her and especially pray that she has rest that night.
I can't imagine what it would be like, as a child, to watch your mother slowly die.
I can't imagine what it would be like, as a mother, to know your children are watching you slowly die.
"How can I give you up [Africa]?
...
My heart is changed within me;
all my compassion is aroused."
Hosea 11:8
I found out Gloria died that night. As sad as it is, when I left her home, I truly felt like God would answer my prayer by taking her that night. Before I left the house, I felt the need to pray for her brother, as he was the one taking care of her and the kids. I prayed for strength and now he really needs it.
I think of Gloria's last night. She was touched, hugged, and loved. She was not alone.
She touched me deep and her situation hit me hard, and I can't seem to help but ask, "How many are left alone..?"
I can't imagine what it would be like, as a child, to watch your mother slowly die.
I can't imagine what it would be like, as a mother, to know your children are watching you slowly die.
"How can I give you up [Africa]?
...
My heart is changed within me;
all my compassion is aroused."
Hosea 11:8
I found out Gloria died that night. As sad as it is, when I left her home, I truly felt like God would answer my prayer by taking her that night. Before I left the house, I felt the need to pray for her brother, as he was the one taking care of her and the kids. I prayed for strength and now he really needs it.
I think of Gloria's last night. She was touched, hugged, and loved. She was not alone.
She touched me deep and her situation hit me hard, and I can't seem to help but ask, "How many are left alone..?"
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Dead friend, four eyes, TC, babies, and Rep.
I had an interesting experience, if you can call it that.
I made a new friend outside of Hands from White River named Latitia. She's a physiotherapist at a nearby hospital.
I went to church a couple Sundays ago. They did announcements. They announced the death of a man named Louie who lives on a farm up the road, a lady named Anne, and then he said, "Do you remember Latitia, the physiotherapist? She drowned in a canoeing accident on Thursday." I instantly exploded into tears and couldn't think of anything else for the rest of the service. After it was finished, I texted one of her friends, Mark, expressing my condolences and letting him know I'm here if he needs anything. He texts back and says he has heard nothing about Latitia and wonders what happened. I called him and told him. It was the saddest and hardest conversations I've ever had. About a half hour later he texts back and says Latitia's fine and that another girl had passed, but not Latitia. I didn't know how to feel or react in that moment. I couldn't produce words. I was so confused. I called Vivienne, since she is actively involved in the church, and asked her to look into the situation and call the guy who made the announcement. I wasn't sure if Latitia was in an accident and it was someone else who had died and the church mixed it up or if it was someone else. Well, it turns out another woman from White River died in a canoeing accident with the exact same name and the exact same profession. Latitia called me later on that day. It was great to hear from her. I hung out with her last week to celebrate her aliveness and we're continuing that celebration tonight, as she is coming over for supper.
On a different note, my eyes have been feeling strange for the last couple months. They feel like there's a lot of pressure behind them. Vivienne told me a story of a boy who had the same thing and ended up with a tumour. So, I acted out in urgency and got an eye appointment. Apparently I'm getting glasses, just for reading and computer. I can still read the bottom row and have excellent vision, but I guess it'll help my headaches.
I saw Tony Campolo speak this past weekend in Pretoria at Missions Fest and he is the bomb-diggity. I thought he would just confirm and encourage my philosophies on Social Justice and he did do that but he deeply challenged me in other areas I refused to dig into. So that was good.
This next week I'm hosting a missions team from the UK who will be helping out the community of Belfast. It's actually has the potential to be quite stressful for a number of reasons. The main reason being the fact that they have invested money into the community and not a lot of it has gotten done, which is largely due to the fact that Africa likes to take its sweet time doing things and everything really has to be done in the right way (community-owned and initiated). They arrive tonight and I have to do orientation with them, discussing what's culturally appropriate and discussing what they'll be doing while they're here. Funny that I've never been on a mission trip before this Africa experience and now I'm orientating teams. Strange.
I'm going to be a Gogo. I won't go too far into that, but yes, my baby's having a baby.
This new role can be quite stressful at times, but I'm actually enjoying the challenge. I'm not teaching at all anymore. I was doing the after school program, but now Lacey has taken control of that AND we're getting a woman, Ncobile, from the community involved. We're hoping she'll eventually take over the program. It has to be that way, community-owned. She's a beautiful woman and so very excited to do this. Her husband is a teacher, too, so that really helps. I'm going to be doing some teacher training with her to build in her skills to be effective. I'm mostly just administering the programs though (after school and university). You know, transferring funds, constructing budgets, and balancing the accounts. What my primary job now is acting as the country rep for South Africa. Each country we work in has a rep who supports and coordinates the activities and projects that happen in the country: Pastor's trainings, home-based care trainings, building multi-care centres, gardens, communicating with donors, arranging international teams, food security, health, .... blah blah blah. I don't actually do the work on the ground; that job is for the people in the community. I don't even actually make up the budgets or proposals or track projects; that job is for Simon. It's a complicated structure that I can't explain right now, so I guess the point is, I'm definitely in a different line of work. But it's challenging (extremely challenging) and exciting! My strongest spiritual gifts are leadership and administration, so I guess this fits perfectly.
I hope to update often. I realized I'm awful and since there are some of you who are living out your Africa dreams through me (Katie) I'll have to keep you happy.
Love you all.
I made a new friend outside of Hands from White River named Latitia. She's a physiotherapist at a nearby hospital.
I went to church a couple Sundays ago. They did announcements. They announced the death of a man named Louie who lives on a farm up the road, a lady named Anne, and then he said, "Do you remember Latitia, the physiotherapist? She drowned in a canoeing accident on Thursday." I instantly exploded into tears and couldn't think of anything else for the rest of the service. After it was finished, I texted one of her friends, Mark, expressing my condolences and letting him know I'm here if he needs anything. He texts back and says he has heard nothing about Latitia and wonders what happened. I called him and told him. It was the saddest and hardest conversations I've ever had. About a half hour later he texts back and says Latitia's fine and that another girl had passed, but not Latitia. I didn't know how to feel or react in that moment. I couldn't produce words. I was so confused. I called Vivienne, since she is actively involved in the church, and asked her to look into the situation and call the guy who made the announcement. I wasn't sure if Latitia was in an accident and it was someone else who had died and the church mixed it up or if it was someone else. Well, it turns out another woman from White River died in a canoeing accident with the exact same name and the exact same profession. Latitia called me later on that day. It was great to hear from her. I hung out with her last week to celebrate her aliveness and we're continuing that celebration tonight, as she is coming over for supper.
On a different note, my eyes have been feeling strange for the last couple months. They feel like there's a lot of pressure behind them. Vivienne told me a story of a boy who had the same thing and ended up with a tumour. So, I acted out in urgency and got an eye appointment. Apparently I'm getting glasses, just for reading and computer. I can still read the bottom row and have excellent vision, but I guess it'll help my headaches.
I saw Tony Campolo speak this past weekend in Pretoria at Missions Fest and he is the bomb-diggity. I thought he would just confirm and encourage my philosophies on Social Justice and he did do that but he deeply challenged me in other areas I refused to dig into. So that was good.
This next week I'm hosting a missions team from the UK who will be helping out the community of Belfast. It's actually has the potential to be quite stressful for a number of reasons. The main reason being the fact that they have invested money into the community and not a lot of it has gotten done, which is largely due to the fact that Africa likes to take its sweet time doing things and everything really has to be done in the right way (community-owned and initiated). They arrive tonight and I have to do orientation with them, discussing what's culturally appropriate and discussing what they'll be doing while they're here. Funny that I've never been on a mission trip before this Africa experience and now I'm orientating teams. Strange.
I'm going to be a Gogo. I won't go too far into that, but yes, my baby's having a baby.
This new role can be quite stressful at times, but I'm actually enjoying the challenge. I'm not teaching at all anymore. I was doing the after school program, but now Lacey has taken control of that AND we're getting a woman, Ncobile, from the community involved. We're hoping she'll eventually take over the program. It has to be that way, community-owned. She's a beautiful woman and so very excited to do this. Her husband is a teacher, too, so that really helps. I'm going to be doing some teacher training with her to build in her skills to be effective. I'm mostly just administering the programs though (after school and university). You know, transferring funds, constructing budgets, and balancing the accounts. What my primary job now is acting as the country rep for South Africa. Each country we work in has a rep who supports and coordinates the activities and projects that happen in the country: Pastor's trainings, home-based care trainings, building multi-care centres, gardens, communicating with donors, arranging international teams, food security, health, .... blah blah blah. I don't actually do the work on the ground; that job is for the people in the community. I don't even actually make up the budgets or proposals or track projects; that job is for Simon. It's a complicated structure that I can't explain right now, so I guess the point is, I'm definitely in a different line of work. But it's challenging (extremely challenging) and exciting! My strongest spiritual gifts are leadership and administration, so I guess this fits perfectly.
I hope to update often. I realized I'm awful and since there are some of you who are living out your Africa dreams through me (Katie) I'll have to keep you happy.
Love you all.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
7 people, 6 hours, 1 fridge, 1 bakkie, and a partridge in a pear tree
On Monday I felt like a mother. I was saying good-bye to my children on the first day of school. The day started at 6:00 am. I'll spare you the details of the classic disorganized African start. Two hours later, Jayme, Elvis, Fortunate, Gugu, Stanford, Regina, me, a fridge, and the students' belongings loaded into the single cab bakkie and headed off to begin a journey I'm sure no one would ever think is possible. I'm not talking about the six hours of cramped and crammed travel but rather the fact that 4 Masoyi orphans were beginning University.
It's been four days and I still want to cry.
Incredibly resilient people with a strength I could never understand. People who have gone to ridiculous measures just to survive. People who have had to endure a grief far beyond anything I could understand. People who are destined to fail. People ignored, overlooked, left-behind, pushed to the side.
These are the ones that said "I'm going to make it." These are the ones that held onto a promise from God and a promise to themselves that they will bring change to those with the same story.
This is God's style.
Before I came to Africa, all I wanted to do was change the world. Many people told me I was going to change the world. But that's not God's style.
These are the beautiful faces of the ones who are going to change the world:
It's been four days and I still want to cry.
Incredibly resilient people with a strength I could never understand. People who have gone to ridiculous measures just to survive. People who have had to endure a grief far beyond anything I could understand. People who are destined to fail. People ignored, overlooked, left-behind, pushed to the side.
These are the ones that said "I'm going to make it." These are the ones that held onto a promise from God and a promise to themselves that they will bring change to those with the same story.
This is God's style.
Before I came to Africa, all I wanted to do was change the world. Many people told me I was going to change the world. But that's not God's style.
These are the beautiful faces of the ones who are going to change the world:
Monday, February 2, 2009
A First of Firsts
Today marks a special day. A day of all days! The day I've been waiting for, if you will.
Today, I saw my first Black Mamba.
I've talked a lot about this creature that is also known as The Shadow of Death, but to remind you of it's incredible talents to KILL, here are a list of facts:
- It is the largest venomous snake in Africa, growing between 2 and 4.5 meters long
- They are one of the fastest snakes in the world and can travel up to 20 km/h
- It can lift 2/3 of it's body off the ground and usually attacks the head and neck
- They are one of few snakes with the ability to strike up to 12 times in a row
- Their venom is so strong, a single bite can inject enough venom to kill between 15-35 grown men.
- Without immediate anti-venom, death has been known to occur in 30 to 180 minutes.
This blog is, of course, to encourage you all that I am well and the dangers in South Africa are minimal and nothing to fear.
Today, I saw my first Black Mamba.
I've talked a lot about this creature that is also known as The Shadow of Death, but to remind you of it's incredible talents to KILL, here are a list of facts:
- It is the largest venomous snake in Africa, growing between 2 and 4.5 meters long
- They are one of the fastest snakes in the world and can travel up to 20 km/h
- It can lift 2/3 of it's body off the ground and usually attacks the head and neck
- They are one of few snakes with the ability to strike up to 12 times in a row
- Their venom is so strong, a single bite can inject enough venom to kill between 15-35 grown men.
- Without immediate anti-venom, death has been known to occur in 30 to 180 minutes.
This blog is, of course, to encourage you all that I am well and the dangers in South Africa are minimal and nothing to fear.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Psalm 143
All I can seem to read these days is Psalm 143. This is not because within this chapter is Hands' 2009 Watchword, but because within this chapter lies my heart. I feel like these words are my own words and these cries are my own cries.
O LORD, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for mercy;
in your faithfulness and righteousness
come to my relief.
Do not bring your servant into judgment,
for no one living is righteous before you.
The enemy pursues me,
he crushes me to the ground;
he makes me dwell in darkness
like those long dead.
So my spirit grows faint within me;
my heart within me is dismayed.
I remember the days of long ago;
I meditate on all your works
and consider what your hands have done.
I spread out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.
Selah
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me
or I will be like those who go down to the pit.
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Rescue me from my enemies, O LORD,
for I hide myself in you.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit
lead me on level ground.
For your name's sake, O LORD, preserve my life;
in your righteousness, bring me out of trouble.
In your unfailing love, silence my enemies;
destroy all my foes,
for I am your servant.
O LORD, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for mercy;
in your faithfulness and righteousness
come to my relief.
Do not bring your servant into judgment,
for no one living is righteous before you.
The enemy pursues me,
he crushes me to the ground;
he makes me dwell in darkness
like those long dead.
So my spirit grows faint within me;
my heart within me is dismayed.
I remember the days of long ago;
I meditate on all your works
and consider what your hands have done.
I spread out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.
Selah
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me
or I will be like those who go down to the pit.
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Rescue me from my enemies, O LORD,
for I hide myself in you.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit
lead me on level ground.
For your name's sake, O LORD, preserve my life;
in your righteousness, bring me out of trouble.
In your unfailing love, silence my enemies;
destroy all my foes,
for I am your servant.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Welcome back.
I'm back in South Africa and so far it's been great. The plane ride was perfect. I honestly slept the entire time and if I struggled with sleep, a glass of wine helped that.
As soon as I turned my phone on when the plane stopped, I was greeted by two texts: a "please call" from Elvis and one from Fortunate asking if I had sent away her residence application. Welcome home, Kristal.
There was so much work to do at the start of this year with Elvis, Fortunate, and Gugu going to University; Patricia and Nokuzola going to Zigna; and Mduduzi getting into Agriculture College. I am SO glad to have people like Brooke and Jed taking it on until I got home. But now I'm home and there is lots of work to do. And as much stress comes with finding funding and sorting details, it all seems worth it when I get a text from Mduduzi saying, "Hi make kristal. I ope u hv a gr8dy. so i m good, i wat 2 inform u that class wil start on monday. anyway i m excited 2 study.Gudnyte."
Make = mother in siSwati.
This year I'll be playing a role supporting Busi as South Africa country rep. We went out to Bushbuckridge a couple days ago with Simon. There are many CBOs in the area and we will be starting a Service Center there to help support the CBOs. Simon will be at the Service Center so we went with him to check up on the CBOs.
A CBO is a Community-based organization. I guess it's like Masoyi but much simpler. Masoyi has many programs and is quite large. These other CBOs are very small and really only have a Home-based Care and some have Care Centers for the children.
It was a good day. Not only did I see the beautiful faces of the care workers and children, but I saw a turtle, a chameleon, and a dung beetle! Dung beetles are quite fascinating. Simon said in their culture they don't call anyone clever because nothing is as clever as a dung beetle.
Today I'm off to visit the students and am SO excited. It's been too long.
Remember, Arrive Alive.
As soon as I turned my phone on when the plane stopped, I was greeted by two texts: a "please call" from Elvis and one from Fortunate asking if I had sent away her residence application. Welcome home, Kristal.
There was so much work to do at the start of this year with Elvis, Fortunate, and Gugu going to University; Patricia and Nokuzola going to Zigna; and Mduduzi getting into Agriculture College. I am SO glad to have people like Brooke and Jed taking it on until I got home. But now I'm home and there is lots of work to do. And as much stress comes with finding funding and sorting details, it all seems worth it when I get a text from Mduduzi saying, "Hi make kristal. I ope u hv a gr8dy. so i m good, i wat 2 inform u that class wil start on monday. anyway i m excited 2 study.Gudnyte."
Make = mother in siSwati.
This year I'll be playing a role supporting Busi as South Africa country rep. We went out to Bushbuckridge a couple days ago with Simon. There are many CBOs in the area and we will be starting a Service Center there to help support the CBOs. Simon will be at the Service Center so we went with him to check up on the CBOs.
A CBO is a Community-based organization. I guess it's like Masoyi but much simpler. Masoyi has many programs and is quite large. These other CBOs are very small and really only have a Home-based Care and some have Care Centers for the children.
It was a good day. Not only did I see the beautiful faces of the care workers and children, but I saw a turtle, a chameleon, and a dung beetle! Dung beetles are quite fascinating. Simon said in their culture they don't call anyone clever because nothing is as clever as a dung beetle.
Today I'm off to visit the students and am SO excited. It's been too long.
Remember, Arrive Alive.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Corazon
I've been in Canada for 25 days. WOW - 25 days. How is that even possible? I spent two weeks doing the Christmas thing with my family. I also spent some time during then visiting family in Fort Pitt and family in Goodsoil. I spent the next week in Saskatoon and now I'm currently partying in Calgary. The three weeks prior to this time were COLD and am enjoying the chinook Calgary has to offer.
It's been great visiting friends and relatives but as much as I wanted to really tell all my stories, I found it only possible to connect with a few people.
"How was Africa?"
"Good."
"That's good."
And then onto Nickelback and the deteriorating economy.
The one thing I found unbelievable during my time home is my lack of participation in snow-related activities. A couple days ago I realized I did not snowboard, sled, skate, make a snowball, a snow angel, a snow fort... NOTHING. I think the main reason for this is the freezing cold weather I've been blessed with since I've been home. But today I and the chinook changed that. My friend Brett and I (along with JL who assisted our noses with her disgusting scent) created a snow-woman. We built her head on his steps and then created a body laying along the steps. She's quite hot. She has witch-like stringy hair, delicious bubble gum lips, dark Oreo eyes that make me feel hungry, and a polka-dot bikini. She has chiseled abs like a Greek God and a lack of breasts because she's a body builder. We think she lost her arm in a shark attack because she now has a limp noodle arm. Her name is Corazon, which is Spanish for "heart". Brett and I both took Spanish classes so we try to do the language thing once in a while. Anyway, she's beautiful and we're trying to set her up with Tyler, who only seems to be attracted to white girls. Well, she's as white as can be.
I'll try to post a picture later.
**Blog inspired by Brooke**
PS - Hi Jon.
It's been great visiting friends and relatives but as much as I wanted to really tell all my stories, I found it only possible to connect with a few people.
"How was Africa?"
"Good."
"That's good."
And then onto Nickelback and the deteriorating economy.
The one thing I found unbelievable during my time home is my lack of participation in snow-related activities. A couple days ago I realized I did not snowboard, sled, skate, make a snowball, a snow angel, a snow fort... NOTHING. I think the main reason for this is the freezing cold weather I've been blessed with since I've been home. But today I and the chinook changed that. My friend Brett and I (along with JL who assisted our noses with her disgusting scent) created a snow-woman. We built her head on his steps and then created a body laying along the steps. She's quite hot. She has witch-like stringy hair, delicious bubble gum lips, dark Oreo eyes that make me feel hungry, and a polka-dot bikini. She has chiseled abs like a Greek God and a lack of breasts because she's a body builder. We think she lost her arm in a shark attack because she now has a limp noodle arm. Her name is Corazon, which is Spanish for "heart". Brett and I both took Spanish classes so we try to do the language thing once in a while. Anyway, she's beautiful and we're trying to set her up with Tyler, who only seems to be attracted to white girls. Well, she's as white as can be.
I'll try to post a picture later.
**Blog inspired by Brooke**
PS - Hi Jon.
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