It’s been a while since I’ve written. There’s been a lot going on and every time I get an opportunity to sit and write something I find myself overwhelmed by even the look of a computer. Even now I’m struggling as it’s smoking hot and the heat radiating from this computer is causing further discomfort in my body.
Let’s start with Canadian thanksgiving. I think this was the best so far. This is the third year in a row I’ve celebrated thanksgiving in Africa. We always organize a BIG function where the Canadians are responsible for providing the essentials and everyone else just brings a side dish. This year I made 66 mini and 1 big pumpkin (carrot) pies. They were just as superb as last year. We bought 3 turkeys and 3 chickens and I’m not sure how we managed, but we cooked them to perfection! I was so impressed and truly felt like I fulfilled my female existence by mastering 3 turkeys and 67 pies. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s very true. Jayme the Babooshka of course once again led the perogie assembly line. We really outdid ourselves this time. It’s really strange, though, to think of my last thanksgiving in Canada being in 2007. That seems like ages ago. Has it really been that long that I’ve been coming to this place? Unreal.
Our turkey celebration also marked the last night with my dear friends Brooke and Jed. I miss them every day. They’ve been here since September 2007 so have been central to my time here. I’ll save myself from tears and keep it short. But I must just say that they’re my favourite.
Since Brooke has left, though, the pressure has definitely increased. My first month here I could easily hide behind Brooke, but once she left I actually had to start doing some real work. As much as it’s been hectic trying to manage and organize the South Africa/Swaziland Regional Support Team, it’s been really awesome. I’m working closely with Levy (a key member of the Hands family usually sent out to break new ground all across Africa) and just love serving the people around me. I’ve been getting out to the communities often and spending two days a week in the Service Centres (last year I worked in the Bushbuckridge Service Centre). We’ve been quite busy organizing trainings for care workers. The trainings are to communicate the changing face of HIV/Aids and the need to fight it by providing holistic care for orphans through parental home visits. We’re rolling this training out into all the communities in South Africa and so far have completed 7 out of 14. Not bad. But these trainings really mark a new season for us. We’re really seeing the need to walk closely with these care workers, to be constantly encouraging and influencing them. It’s quite exciting to see how our Service Centres will figure out how to mentor them on an ongoing basis.
On a REALLY exciting note ... my father is coming to visit in January! Eeeeeep! I can hardly believe it myself and when I tell people, I just giggle. It’s so exciting and so crazy. He’s coming Jan 15-28. I’m hoping to find him some building projects. Simon figures there will be child home renovations in Bushbuckridge that’ll need a hand or two, so I’m sure we can find something for him to do. Not to mention we’ll go on a safari and, really, how can my hunting-lover father come to Africa and not get the opportunity to shoot something exotic? He just came out of elk season (with a nice one I hear) and is moving into moose season. So I guess I’ll have to get him some gun-time here too.
Eish, this one’s long. Sorry, guys. Another exciting thing happening lately is I’ve joined our worship team at church. This has been something I’ve wanted to do my whole life. A couple Sundays ago I actually sang and played guitar. It’s hard to believe people actually trust me with a microphone, but it was so much fun. I’m sure I could do it without ceasing. That and eating cereal. I had three bowls of cornflakes for supper. As it gets hotter here, my craving for a delicious bowl of cereal intensifies. OMMnomnom.
I know this is long, but I can’t finish this entry without talking about Lorraine, Clearance [Clarence], and Remember. I write [Clarence] because that’s his name but this weekend I saw him writing it “Clearance”. These three have been a family close to my heart for a long time, ever since Louise stayed with them and introduced me. I’m sure I’ve talked about them before somewhere but Lorraine is 16, Remember 11 and Clearance 10. Their father passed away in 2007, their mother in 2008 and they’ve been staying alone since. While in Canada, they were the story I seemed to always share and as soon as I got back to Africa I felt desperate to see them. And this urgency to see them wasn’t for nothing. As soon as I saw them a couple weeks ago, it absolutely destroyed me. Their situation is not good and as much as I wish to share the details with you all, I really can’t. But as soon as I saw them I felt the urgency to stay with them and spend time with them. A week later (this past weekend), I stayed in their community (not with them, unfortunately, as they have no windows or doors on their house and Minah deemed it too dangerous for me... but for some reason not for them). I got to hang out with Clearance on Friday night and play a lot of Top 10 (card game very commonly played here in South Africa). On Saturday I spent the entire day sitting in their house. Lorraine made me cook, Clearance and I read storybooks as Lorraine did my hair, we all made friendship bracelets, played more Top 10, and drew pictures of houses. It was such a lovely time, although my derriere became quite sore from sitting for 8 hours on a cement floor. And then on Sunday I sat beside Clearance during the 3-hour church service and tried to pay attention to the screaming preacher while Clearance played with my hand, stroked my skin, and drew pictures of elephants, lions, snakes, and buffalo in my journal. They’re such lovely kids, but were dealt a bad hand in life. It’s quite hard to imagine that this type of situation can actually be real. Where is everyone? How is this allowed? A young girl left to care for younger siblings, even struggling to care for herself as she engages in destructive and degrading activities. A young boy awfully sick, going blind in one eye, and often left alone in the house as the older sister runs around. And then the middle boy who was taken into the home of a teacher in a different community because he had compassion on him, but what’s left is a broken up family that only has each other and desperately needs one another. But God isn’t concerned about what the world is doing for them, He’s asking me what I’m doing about it. A friendship bracelet is a start, but it signifies much more to me than a string on a wrist. I’m committed to them.
Dying to self. We become a little less significant when God shows his little snotty-nosed face.
