Monday, September 8, 2008

Field Trip to Jo'burg

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

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

Here are two journal entries of things I experienced personally:

4 Sept - University of Pretoria

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

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


5 Sept - Shopping center

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

Sick

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

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Long and definitely Long Overdue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll let you know how the trip goes!

Monday, August 18, 2008

The August Fire

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

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

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

This was so intense. But so exciting!

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

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

So we were in "protect the home" mode.

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

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

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

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


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

Saturday, August 9, 2008

African Wedding Crashers

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

Man, the wedding hasn’t even started yet.

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

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

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



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

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



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

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



Highlight: The band busted out “Old Time Religion”

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



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

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

Friday, August 8, 2008

Things I miss most

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

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

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Zimbabwe

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

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

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

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

Friday, July 25, 2008

106.1 The Goat

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