The El

(I wasn't planning on blogging again - especially since I am sure people are done checking this. But I found this poem I wrote in Chicago the first time and since it's the last poem I've written, I wanted to post it on here since it was very much a part of my experience. so with no apologies...) 


The El


In monotone, I heard a red line man declare he was Jesus, the son of God
Or at least the next president of the United States, since we all know Obama is too young.

Today, Jesus wears a red trucker hat, thick glasses and two necklaces: one from a hospital in the arctic north and the other? The dollar store down the street on Broadway. 

Adjacent from me, a man catches my eye. Moments that were created on accident; apologetically. He hurriedly looks away but not before he tries to suppress a silent smirk. 

The haze of the evening sun smears itself on the thick windows of the train, mellowing the rush of the tracks and smelly stories all felt in a tiny, moving space. Deeper, together, we move into the earth.  

This is Jackson. The doors open on the left at Jackson. 

Jesus stays on the train as I entered into the underground mixed with heat and florescent lighting. I take the stairs, leading beyond me. 

Later, after the clash of the city and a yellowed darkness, I find myself here again where quiet people wait in tired silence while a right-handed man plays a left-handed guitar.  

I can't get no satisfaction. 

His lyrics bounce off the concert walls, floor, and faces until the rush of the el, clattering down the tunnel eventually moves the moment away from me, like twilight slipping though my fingers 

Doors closing.

Ebenezer

I am starting to collect stones. I only have two thus far so I don't really know if can use the word "collecting" properly here but still. I came home to a rock sitting on my closet shelf and one in the pocket of my bag. That seems to qualify as a "collection" to me.

The first rock I found myself after I convinced Dréa to put on her rain boots and romp the banks of Riley Creek with at Bluffton University in the spring of 2009. I needed them for a little friend devotional time we were having/a Sunday Evening Worship that I was speaking at. I stood up on the bridge and pointed as brave Dréa brought up the rocks I thought would work for an "Ebenezer." I found my rocks that my friends eventually wrote all over as part of remembering what God has done for us over the course of our final year at Bluffton. On the big one we used to Sunday Evening Worship, I wrote "Thus far the Lord has helped us" from that chapter in numbers where Moses sets up an Ebenezer as a reminder of how God helped the Israelites to bring them to where they were at day. I liked that a lot and after having a pretty rough time at Bluffton (on and off) and getting to the place where I could barely think of leaving, I thought it was fitting to set up our own. I am not sure what happened to those two stones, covered in different colors of Sharpies, maybe they ended up back in the Riley, which would maybe be fitting, but by the end of the year I still had a leftover, unused stone that Dréa had brought out of the creek. So as I was packing up my things one final time at Bluffton, I took the rock with me. When I got home, I wrote "Bluffton 09" on it and that verse, in a way to remember everything and everyone that God had blessed me with and by at Bluffton University. A pillar, so I wouldn't forget that my story is far from over.

That rock greeted me as I unpacked my suitcase over a year later, sitting on very visible place on my shelf.

The second rock came a few days before I found myself unpacking in my room in Asheville, North Carolina. We were still in Chicago, resting gently in the week that "buffer" our experience in our service locations and our "normal, everyday lives." And of course, I was struggling. Emotionally, I was all over place for several reason, but one of them was mourning the fact that my time in Chicago would be sort, that the days being a community of people who were in the exact same place I was were numbered – that I only had a limited amount of space before I was pushed back into a world, of saying hello and goodbye to my best friend in a short 12 hour period, the world of my grandpa's funeral, and the world of living with my parents again unsure of how to be a responsible adult when looking for a job that I might be interested seems to be impossible. And then Darrell gave us each an Ebenezer stone. They weren't river rocks this time, but colorful, polished rocks that would easily fit in your pockets.

My second Ebenezer is green and now sits near my Bluffton rock as a constant reminder to myself that "thus far the Lord has helped me."

On a very real level, I don't feel as if I have time to breath yet. So many things have happened since I've gotten back (and will continue to happen for awhile), that I haven't made real time to be or to try and sort out anything from this last year in Pietermaritzburg. But God has helped me thus far, and it would be utter nonsense if I believe this is the end of the journey. My story is far from over. And I will be dealing with this experience far after I stop posting things to this blog.

But in the meanwhile, (and after all this frantic traveling is over) I am going to pull up a chair and give time for my soul to catch up with me. I might use this blog as a way to try and figure out what that means, but if I don't, I will sign off now. Thank you to everyone who has helped me these past 10 months by reading my blog and carrying my burdens with me, laughing with me, and walking with me. I look back on this experience, and even though I am still not sure what I think about a lot of things, I do know that thus far the Lord has helped me and that God will continue to do just that for the rest of my life.

The journey home

These final two blogs are a long time in coming but I wanted to properly close off my Radical Journey blog despite the fact that it has been over 15 days or so that since I last touch African soil (or terminal cement).

The journey home was quite a long one and rather epic since everything that could've gone wrong seemed to, in fact, go that way, or so it felt at the time (and even now). Many of you know this story but for the sake of proper blog record keeping (mainly for my own sake since I don't think people are checking this blog anymore) I wanted to tell it one last time.

Our flight was supposed to leave the PMB airport around 8. So we got up early, packed up the rest of the manse and loaded into the LD's and Thandi's cars and headed to the airport. We were the biggest excitement that airport has seen in quite some time I am sure. When we were dealing with our first issue (the "overweight" luggage) there were about 5 guys behind the counter trying to help us. A little unnecessary. It was quite humorous, or would've been if we weren't all emotional and tried and trying to figure out how to get on to the little plane. What happen was that apparently since we didn't have our international tickets yet, and thus we had "no proof" that we were flying internationally and not domestic. Our luggage weight for the international trips were fine, but the domestic weight is lower. So we had to pay. About $150 (over R1000). Crazy.

I knew that when the PMB to Jo'Burg flight attendant put a breakfast box on my fold out tray that read "Beef" that this was going to be a hectic day... or three days… "Beef" is also a bad omen at 8 o'clock in the morning.

The second hiccup came in Jo'Burg. We were leaving the country with everyone. Seriously. Well, that's how it felt and I don't think that I am too far off since it was THE day after the World Cup was over. While we were trying to check into our flight, we met our first challenge. We had no idea where our line ended. Crawling around people with carts full of luggage, we finally decided to join one we thought might be the one. It was wasn't. After not moving for about 15 minutes, I finally jumped out of the line and found that our line was in fact not the one we were standing in. Our line was actually not that hectic and a lot shorter now that our flight left in about an hour. I will say that even though we should've tried to sort this mess out sooner that we weren't the last ones in line. And we were literally next in line when they told us. They overbooked. What? Someone from Kenya airlines sent us (well Kyle) to another 2 hour line to try and figure out what the heck to do now. In the meanwhile, the rest of us sat on the floor and watched as a man (who didn't make the flight) at the ticket counter cursed out the staff. Fun. We eventually got another flight – leaving at 12:45am. So we killed over 12 hours in Jo'Burg. Again. We actually spent a lot of time in the domestic side of the airport since the food is cheaper there and it was less packed. So a few hours later we found ourselves on the floor, not far away from the benches were we slept our first night in South Africa. It was an ironic full circle.

We had learned our lesson the first time. There was no way we were going to miss our flight this time. So we got in line early, which was a good thing to because after everyone's bags were wrapped in plastic the counter woman sorted out all our tickets since the Kenya desk still missed important things that could've complicated things along the way. She was a champ for sure and she made our trip smoother. I hate to think that things could've gotten worse along the way. After an hour of processing our stuff, we were cleared to go. So we uneasily bid farewell to our luggage which looked like it was ready for some type of white trash Christmas and border the plane. (Kyle and I actually said at this point that we weren't sure if we would ever see that luggage again… which is partly true).

On the plane from Jo'burg to Nairobi, I had my real first taste of culture shock. Europeans (who were mostly Netherlands fans returning home from the games) are a lot "colder" than South Africans. For example, I was trying to get my carry-on loaded onto the overhead bin and it was practically falling on my head. The guy behind me, instead of being a gentlemen, was clearly annoyed that I was taking so long to get out of the way. Haibo. Compared to the awesome South African lady who helped us finalize all our tickets, this guy was a real tool.

This is the third problem, although we didn't realize it at the time. We got to Nairobi at some unknown hour and had to immediately get in line for our next flight. Little did we know that the air vouchers that we were given in Jo'Burg to redeem our wasted, overbooked tickets, could only be taken care of in Kenya. We had no idea but we also had no time. So we got on the plane and left

Next came Amsterdam our fourth problem, well I guess maybe 3.5 because this relates to that last one. After we got off, we had to search the airport for a KLM desk that had our prearranged hotel reservations. It took us (mainly Kyle again) a super long time to figure that out. Since we all had this hate relationship with Kenya airlines we were all really nervous that we weren't going to get our rooms in Amsterdam. And after two days of traveling and of being exhausted, that would've been the worst thing ever especially since our plane didn't leave until 11am the next day (Our flight got there at 4pm). But things worked out and we actually got to stay in a nice hotel with meals included. However, before we left we were literally sent in a circle forever as we tried to find a KLM desk that could help us with these vouchers from Kenya air (who didn't pick up their phones). Ugh. So eventually we said "forget it" and went to the hotel. (Thus I now have an Amsterdam stamp in my passport although we only saw the fields by the hotel, which is still sweet. But strangely enough, I was on the only one my team who didn't get an "exit stamp." Seriously. We all went to the same guy at passport control and he stamped all theirs. But when he got to mine all he did was flip through my book, see my Israel stamps and said "Shalom" and gave my book back to me. No stamp. According to my passport, I am still there…. But also here. What?)

And then came the last bump in the this "road" of traveling home. Our flight and everything went wonderfully (we were on a huge KLM flight and it was so nice especially compared to other planes we had been on) and when we got to O'Hare Airport only Gabby's nicely still-wrapped luggage came down the shoot at baggage claim. It would all eventually sprinkle in over the next few days, showing up at JPUSA, and I am so grateful for that, but at the time. It seemed like the worst thing ever.

So by the time we arrived at the guest flat on Wilson Ave, we were all spent, and generally disappointed about everything that had happened. It's been a few weeks since those three traveling days and looking back, all I can say is, I am so glad that is over…

All the small things

I am currently blogging from thousands of feet above Canada and the very last leg of our journey. After three days of traveling, all I can say is that I am so ready to have my feet back on the ground (but that's a long story). Anyway, in my last South African blog I wrote about the fact that I know that I will missing things about South Africa life, but I just needed more time to think of exactly what those things are. Obviously I cannot list them all in one blog – after all I was there for 10 months. I have lived in PMB longer than I have lived in Asheville NC, but here is a list of some of the small things I wil miss…

I will miss the World Cup and watching soccer matches with Christian for countless evenings

I will miss the "prochoiceasuarous" that hangs above the manse's door and making "raptor noises" with Kyle

I will miss Christian calling me yoghurt and trying to do Congolese dances with him.

I will miss singing Zulu songs, even though I never really knew the words or even if I did, how to pronounce them or what they meant

I will miss cooking curry in the kitchen with Nicole (and that time when Shaun helped me make the thinnest, but best, roti's ever)

I will miss Sheldon and Shaun's constant laughter, Yonela's poems, Abie's "gangsta superstar" persona, posing for GQ    with Brylon, calling Chad "JT", watching Ntuthuko dance while he played the piano, the way Robbie plows into your shoulder when he greets you, and how much Nicole loves her cat.

I will miss cheap movies on Tuesdays.

I will most definitely miss the cheap, cheap, Indian food place by Pick n' Pay.

I will miss the fact that we went to Pick n' pay so often that we were came to recognize a lot of the employees.

I will miss all the fresh fruit and the fact that we had a lemon tree in our yard

I will miss the hills of Pietermaritzburg and the blue of the Indian Ocean

I will miss hanging out at Essence Café with Gabby and almost being a "regular" there

I will miss all the crazy things we did in the small youth office where Tim, Connie, Kyle and I had to work most of the time.

I will miss calling the traffic lights "robots."

I will miss this instant "Ricoff" coffee stuff that still remains to a mystery to me but makes fabulous iced coffee

I will miss the way Thandi teased us all the time

I will miss my Congolese English students

I will miss going up to Hilton and always "bringing the clouds with us."

I will miss crocheting with Karen

I will miss all the beautiful, flowering trees

I will miss the warmth of the South African people (nothing has made me notice this more than being stuck on a plane with cold Europeans for hours)

I will miss BCI's art ministry

Yeah, I will miss all these small things about South African life. Well, this isn't all of them of course but there are just some of the small things that I will carry with me home…

The Last Hours

I don't really have a whole lot to say right now – on this eve of the end of all things South African (and World Cup). It's a strange feeling. Mostly I just want to blog because this is my 100^th blog… and even though I am sure I will blog at least once in Chicago, I wanted to leave my 100^th blog here in PMB.

There is a strange silence in the manse. And by that I don't mean that there is actual, literal silence in this house. After all there are a few people in the lounge and if I was close enough to the shared wall, I am sure that I would hear Martine's kids running about. Instead, I mean that type of silence that is heavy with sadness that seems to settle on to the empty spaces that come with moving. I felt it in IL, I felt it at Bluffton, and now it is here. Feel it – we are going.

My stuff is generally all packed except the stuff that I need tonight and tomorrow morning – so now it's all about waiting. I am currently waiting for everyone to head over to watch the pre-finale of the World Cup so I can quickly mop the floors. I am waiting for tonight so I can finish saying goodbye to people – (even though we are also saying goodbye to a bunch of people at the airport). I am waiting. It's been really nice that we've had this week off of work so we can connect with people and clean and pack and all that. However, this has been like one prolonged goodbye and it really sucks. I was telling someone at church that I could just line everyone up and give everyone a hug all at once. But I guess that's never how it goes.

I feel like I am waiting for a lot of things – although I am not exactly sure what. It's hard to get away from this sadness I guess. I am super excited to go home and see everyone- but then what? Oh my word I have no plan for what I am going to do after I finish traveling around to see everyone. After that… oh man. I guess I am passed the point of the security that comes with being a student and knowing that school comes next. Even with Radical Journey – VS is a pretty typical "Mennonite" thing to do after college. And now the thing to do is get a job. And be an adult. And pay off that tower of debt that I owe Sally Mae.

Okay, I feel as if this blog no longer has a main point so I guess that it is time for this to end. I should be creative and cute and end this with like a top 10 list of things that I will miss – but at this point I think that I will just wait until Chicago and then I will find out what I miss the most.

Okay people, see you in Chicago.

Goodbye South Africa!

The LDs

This is my official shout out to Phil and Christine Lindell-Detweiler.

As many of you know, Phil and Christine have been with us since day one – and I don't necessarily mean that literally (although they were since Christine was one of the ones who picked us up from the PMB airport that fateful day 10 months ago). Here with Mennonite Mission Network, the LDs have been part of our RJ program by taking us under their wings, guiding, mentoring us, and generally just being our friends.

I've come to really love and cherish this dear family since being here. I can honestly say that without their guidance, I am not sure if I would have been able to stick this thing out. We had the privilege of hanging out with them this past weekend up by St. Lucia – chilling at the beach, roaming the game park with the ballade, picnicking among the zebras and impala, and hanging out in front of the World Cup matches on TV back at the backpackers place. Before we headed out that Monday morning after all the weekend adventures, we had a debriefing session with them to "wrap this whole thing up." Towards the end of our conversation, Phil mentioned of how whenever you are around someone long enough you cannot help but feel the loss when they are gone. That is definitely true for me. Phil and Christine have made a huge impact on my life – their willingness to serve, to confront conflict, to deal with tough faith issues in a cross-cultural setting, and their authentic love of people are some things that I will carry away with me. I am definitely going miss them – eating breakfast at their house, laughing at the huge quantities of fruit that Phil always buys, drinking lots of cups of coffee with Christine in cute coffee spots, co-teaching English, and trying to convince Phil to whistle and dance at the same time. Okay those are just some things (some of which are quite silly – except for the whistling and dancing thing – that is quite serious), but it is often the small, little details of people's lives that stay with us the most.

So if you are reading this LDs, please know how much of a blessing you have been to me and to the rest of the team. Y'all are awesome. I am definitely going to miss you.

Moving...

I was so super ready to go home that I forgot how much I hate packing - that is, until this afternoon. Oh my word, I HATE PACKING!

During these times I am always reminded of my sister. Whenever Leah had to pack for anything she would spend hours with her clothes all over her bed complaining about how much it sucked. I can hardly blame her. Even packing for little trips is dumb. But when it's big stuff - like trying to fit my 10 month South African life back into my bag (praying the whole time that it's light enough not to get charged extra at the airport) - boy do I feel like Leah, screaming in my room that this is the worst thing.

It is the worst. Here is why.

1. It takes forever so it always requires me to pack before the actual day of departure. This then undoubtedly means that I packed something I am going to need in the next few days. So I am sure I am going to unpack and repack several times before this whole thing is over.

2. I always think I have way less stuff then I actually do. When my suitcase starts to look rather full, I always realize how much more I have left to put into it. yikes...Then I just feel materialistic. I think I am leaving a lot here but I am really not. All the stuff I bought/gifts for people cancels out what I am leaving.

3. With packing comes cleaning. Now, I don't mind cleaning but it stresses me out when I have to do both.

4. Okay, this is the larger issue here. Packing means moving. and moving just brings up weird feelings in myself. It reminds me of leaving Eureka, IL and that horrible moment when I cried in the rain before leaving 202 Elm Cir for the last time. It reminds me of moving out of Bluffton last year and how after all my stuff was packed up in Mom and Dad's van, how I just sat on the sidewalk outside of Hirschy Hall and cried. Although, I generally am ready for the next non-manse time of my life, it is sad leaving because goodbyes are always sad and very strange. For example, last night we had to say goodbye to Robbie, Daniel, and Ntuthuko (some of the guys in the youth) and it's really strange to think that I am probably never going to see them ever again. Even though I am really ready to go home, this whole process just underline this current theme of my life - letting go. I am tried of having to constantly be saying goodbye to people. I am really ready to be around people again that I love and not have to start from scratch yet again (although the latter is eventually coming...). This makes my heart hurt.

Thoughts on leaving

We have started saying goodbye to people. It's a really strange thing especially since we are still here for a week and thus far things still very much the same. (That is due to the fact that it's Monday and we always have Mondays off so nothing seems to have changed yet). It still seems surreal at times. Sometimes it feels like it has definitely been 10 months since I've last seen my family and other times it feels like this year has flown by. (Only sometimes though).

This past Sunday, Tim, Gabby and I had to share on Sunday – a sort of farewell to the church. (Connie and Kyle will go next week). I don't really remember what I said since I just up there and winged it. However, I do remember what I said during the second service. Here is a rough idea of that.

It's hard to think of exactly how to thank people or say goodbye to everyone here at BCI and South Africa in just a few simple phrases such "Thanks for everything" or "It's been awesome." How can I sum everything up like that? But then I got to thinking about how I am grateful for everyone's hospitality – for letting us live with them and be a part of the church, etc. But still that doesn't sum everything up either when I think about it. I kept thinking about the word "hospitality" and how it has its roots in the Greek, which literally translates into "love and "stranger." So when we practice hospitality in this way we are genuinely showing love to people we don't know. But here, we have moved beyond that. So thanking people for their hospitality doesn't quite say what I want it to because we are no longer strangers here. We have been incorporated into this BCI family. We have been made a real part of this community. And it's for that I am grateful for. This is what I will carry with me wherever I go.

I would be lying if I said my time here was easy. It has definitely had its challenges. But now that it is coming to an end, I am glad that I came and that I "stuck it out" even during the hardest times.

Holiday Club!

AH!!!!

That's the typical thought that went through everyone's mind when they would think or talk about Holiday Club*. Every time someone brought it up there seemed to be a collective sigh that went up. It was coming. Oh no. And because of all the stories that people had told us about Holiday Club last year – or how there was 500 kids, unreliable volunteers, and just mass chaos in general, no one was looking forward to this week where kids from all over PMB would gather on the church property. [*Holiday Club is a BCA program that functions similar to a day camp/VBS].

Actually, I know my teammates were dreading this coming time, especially Kyle who was in charge of all the sports (which is one of the main points of Holiday Club). I however, was in charge of catering logistics and "media" related stuff as well. So since I didn't actually have to work with children (i.e. group leader), I didn't really mind that this week was quickly approaching. I actually felt a strange peace about it as everyone around me was kind of in a hectic mood.


I found out the other day that MMN apparently sends out prayer requests and a prayer came through to pray for Holiday Club and my Grandparents – all the way in Manson, Iowa, got it. But I definitely think people all around the world must have been praying for this thing because we had no money for this thing. Catering was going to cost money, transport was going to cost money, everything seemed to be very stressful because we had no sponsors and Thandi (BCA's coordinator) even mentioned something the week before Club that maybe we weren't going to have it. This is big thing for Thandi to say, since she usually has a great, trusting outlook on things. So we had no idea what was going to happen with this week.

In the end, things went amazingly smoothly. BCA decided to ask for donations from kids (not very much, and only from those who could give) and made kids pay for transport – which is the main issue. Because of this we had roughly 150-200 kids every day. But with 50 volunteers, it was definitely manageable and quieter than last year. It was great that the volunteers could spend less time "policing" the kids and more time actually delivering a quality program. As I went around taking pictures of the events, it was really cool to see all the volunteers interact with their kids, and actually know the kids' names in their groups. I am sure that even though there were less kids, the impacted made was definitely more significant.

Also, as far as catering went, things really came through. We had different ladies' cells cater each day, and they pretty much sponsored all of our needs. It was fantastic. We actually got a lot of bread donations from local stores and a really random delivery of tons and tons of butternut squash. (Actually about 50% of it was rotten, so a group of us had to spend a large chunk of Tuesday afternoon chopping out the bad parts and sorting through the rest. Wow it was so gross. But on Thursday, Aunty Phyllis came with this awesome butternut soup. It was great).

During the days, I helped with registration and getting numbers to the kitchen, etc., but my favorite thing to do was take pictures and video of the events and kids. And I discovered that maybe I studied the wrong thing. Or just didn't study enough. I really want to get into media stuff – like videography, etc. So I guess I was in the right stream as far as communications and writing at Bluffton, it just wasn't enough. And so now I am seriously looking into going back to school to get certified in this type of stuff. If I could spend all day behind a camera and actually get paid for it – it would be the best.

So overall, Holiday Club was awesome. Sure it was exhausting and towards the end of the week I was really tired of having children everywhere. But it was a good week. Things went really well, and so thank you to everyone was who praying for us. Your prayers were definitely answered.

It makes me happy. It makes me want to blow my vuvuzela!

I was in the car with Nicole when we heard this on the radio. (Side note: it's still amazing that our car radio actual works now). We weren't sure if this is an advert or some type of radio program. All I know is that we heard this guy with a German accent say "It makes me happy. It makes me want to blow my vuvuzela." We say that occasionally too – or if opportunity presents itself we say the reversal of it. "It makes me sad. It makes me want to put away my vuvuzela." We said that after Bafana got kicked out of the World Cup Games.

I have never been a real fan of the vuvuzela. We have neighborhood kids next door. They have one and whenever they make a lot of racket, the paper-thin wall that divides our houses seems to get even more useless than ever. However, I think I am coming around. I actually now own one thanks to this guy who came to speak to the kids about TB at Holiday Club. It makes me happy that I now own one although I am still not completely convinced that they aren't annoying. But I like them because they are South African.

I really have grown to like soccer as well. I am not sure if this is really true outside of the World Cup (because, as noted before, I really like any type of world sporting event – mainly the Olympics). And although I still hate it when there is a tie or no one scores at all, it is awfully fun to yell at the TV. Every evening (and afternoon), Christian is in the lounge watching the game and thus I have gotten really into it as well. It's fun to be in a country where something like this is happening, even if I am not going to any of the actual games. And I proudly say that I am pretty sure I have seen at least 3/4ths of all the games, in their entirety, half, or at least some parts of them. It's been really fun cheering for the underdog. Or the time when the US was playing Algeria and scored the winning goal during the last 2 minutes thus resulting in Phil literally tackling Kyle. Awesome.

Anyway, there is not really a deep point to this blog besides to say – Feel it. It is here.

Wednesday Tweets

I never really saw the point in Twitter – that is to say, unless I am creepy stalker then yes, there is a point to Twitter. That all changed yesterday when I was looking at the funeral wreath sitting on our kitchen table. I really needed to tell someone this. It wasn't something I wanted to post on one specific person's facebook wall and it definitely wasn't anything to blog about (at the time). Yes, Twitter would've come in handy then. But then I got thinking about how there is a ton of random stuff that happens to us daily and I never blog about any of it. This is really too bad since most of it is comical – or at least falls into that category. (Yeah the funeral wreath is a little dark but it's still kind of funny). So here are some ramblings of the day – some "tweets" if you will. (Although I realize that I could never actually use Twitter. I have way too much to say for that outlet."

There is a funeral wreath sitting on our kitchen table. It was leftover at the church and since these things cost money, they didn't just want to throw it. So now it is here. On the table. I first saw it when I came back from work for our lunch break. It was a weird thing.

It's cold here. It's June and we are freezing. This is a new experience. We sit bundled up under blankets and layers and layers of socks. Since we don't have central heating, I spend a lot of time hugging the oven. I also basically wear the same clothes every single day. It's yummy.

Today is a public holiday. I was not aware of that until yesterday afternoon in the office. It's like having a surprise birthday present. It's fabulous. I've been baking up a storm all day thus far because it is the only thing that keeps me warm.

Our water kettle is under a year warranty. This is the second time it's broke since we got it. It still sits on our counter, waiting for us to remember to take it back to Game to exchange it for another one.

BIRDS. ARE. DINOSAURS! One day in the office Connie told us of how her ex-boyfriend had watched this thing in his 11^th grade science class about how dinosaurs have evolved into birds. We now say this phrase all the time. There was a solid week where I couldn't say that without laughing. But I believe this is true. We have these insane Ibis birds here and they are definitely dinosaurs. I don't care what you say. Dinosaurs are definitely making a comeback in our lives right now. Kyle, who I think is part velociraptor, and I have often make raptor noises and sometimes "velociraptor" Connie and Gabby around the kitchen. It's awesome. Also, above the doorway leading on to the Manse's stoop is "Pro-choice-asaurous." Also another great office moment. We found this plastic dinosaur in the youth office one afternoon. Connie read the type of dinosaur it was (it was written on the bottom) and for some reason I thought she said "Pro-choice-asaurous." (It definitely wasn't called that). Her face is ripped off by a republican. The boys then took her and dangled her above the door frame with duck tape. She has been up there for weeks now.

Dwight is gone. And I am not sad. She was the grossest cat I have ever met. She ran away/got killed/got kidnapped a few weeks ago. She was too expensive for us to really keep, she farted all the time, pooped everywhere and plagued the house with fleas for weeks. (We actually had them come spray again yesterday because Gabby and I were starting to get bit again). I think Kyle is the only one who is emotionally devastated by her disappearance.

I have decided that I like the World Cup. Soccer is still not that exciting to me but I really love the Olypmics and so this type of world competition feeds that part of my heart. We've watched a lot of games thus far and will continue in this vein. When I don't particularly care about who is playing (aka when Bafana, the USA, Argentina, Paraguay and/or Ghana isn't playing) then I enjoy cheering for the underdog. Last night I cheered for North Korea. It was awesome even though that game was awful to watch. And even though I still want to hate the vuvuzelas I don't know if I really can. I read this editoral on CNN.com (it's now posted on my facebook wall) about how it's kind of awesome because you don't even have to be in the room to know what is on TV. You hear the vuvuzelas and instantly know. I am just glad I am not in the stadium with them. I also wish the neighbor kid wouldn't blow them at 6:45 in the morning – but I guess it's not too bad since that only happens on Bafana's game days.

My stupid computer cord isn't working again. It has moods when it just won't work. It freaks me out. I am afraid that it won't come back sometimes. So I pray that it will and that I will be able to post this blog tomorrow. (Yep. Now it's fine).

Connie is teaching me how to knit. This is exciting.

We might have said goodbye to Joe and Anna Sawatzky yesterday evening. (We may see them in a few days but if not than that's it). They are the first people real "goodbyes" that I have had thus far. It's really strange. They have been like our extended family members. I have been blessed by knowing them. It was a really moment saying goodbye to them.

Andrew Suderman can make Levi Sawatzky (who is maybe 2 or 3) say the World Cup theme (or whatever this is). He'll say "Feel it!" and Levi will replay with "It is here!" It's so cute. One time Anna was trying to get her son to say it and he responded with "I don't want to feel it!"

We have this perfect spoon in the manse at the kitchen. It is the best for measuring instant coffee. I love it. It disappeared after the whole Potjie thing during convention but then it suddenly made a comeback into our lives a few weeks ago. The problem still remains though – I drink way too much coffee! I never used to be this person.

Well these are my very long "Tweet-like" thoughts. I am sure I will have more later.

Birthday Birthday Birthday

Well people, this past weekend was my birthday. And I do mean weekend. Every since I met Jill Enoch that fateful day in August 2005, my life has never been the same. (This doesn't count the time we met at orientation and stood their awkwardly while Keith kept recording our future dorm room). See, Jille believes her birthday is the month of October. And although this is strange thinking – I believe in it. Ever since then, I have decided to celebrate people's birthdays for longer than just one day (because what's the fun in that?) Since this practice, I have now come to the belief that my birthday should also be a long celebration. And so in this 23^rd year, that's exactly what I decided to do.

Here is what we did.

1. Well this first one wasn't technically my birthday celebration, but I count it as because it was close to my birthday and awesome. On Thursday, we went out for brunch/shopping with Christine and Karen (see previous blog). It was so great.

2. Friday, (this also wasn't a "sanctioned" birthday celebration, but it was fun) we went to Imbali to watch the Bafana vs. Mexico match on a big screen at a stadium there. Although standing for three hours sucked, it was fun, especially to see all the fans go crazy when Bafana scored.

3. Saturday (okay this was an official birthday thing), my team "kidnapped me" (like blindfolded me and put me in the car and drove around awhile) and took me to a field at UKZN. We got there, they took off my blindfold and there were the LDs, and the Sudermans (and two MMN related people). Eventually the Sawatzky's came too. It was awesome. We played ultimate Frisbee, which I am pretty sure we haven't played since the end of 2009. I don't know why. It was really fun. Afterwards, we went to the Suderman's house to eat a yummy lunch of haystacks/taco salad and watched the Argentina vs. Nigeria game. And to top it all off, in the evening we went up to Hilton to the LDs to watch the England vs. USA game. Oh man. That was awesome. Confession – it was the first time I've ever seen the US play soccer. Wow. But the fun part was that all the Americans (practically) in the room (so Connie, me and the LDS) were cheering for the US (duh), and then all the Canadians (Gabby, Tim, Kyle and the Sudermans) were cheering for England. And when the States scored later in the game – good dang, did we yell for about a minute. It was the best. And probably the only time I've ever really gotten into soccer.

4. Sunday, Gabby took me out for coffee at Essence in the late morning after church. It was great. I love that place, and that girl, and coffee (although we actually ended up getting milkshakes, but it's fine. I love those too).

5. Monday – My actual day of birth. In the morning, I woke up "earlier" than I needed to and found that Constance had stayed up all night long making croissants for my birthday. Wow they were yummy. I then headed off to Essence to work on some writing stuff and eventually met the rest of my team there for brunch. In the afternoon, the girls (including Nicole) and I, went to the mall to spend the rest of the money my parents had given me for warm clothes. And then finally, in the evening we went to the Suderman's (well they weren't there but we had to take care of their dog so we just stay there) ate Fajitas and cake and watched the Italy vs. Paraguay game or the Chaco vs. the World as Kyle referred to it. It was a great day. Lots of high-fives were given and received.

I had no idea that I was going to spend my 23^rd birthday in South Africa. It definitely makes me wonder where I'll be in a year from now because I have no idea. Heck, I don't even know where I'll be in 4 months. I guess that's just part of the adventure. Okay, 23, let's do this thing…

Debriefing as women

Well, that's what Gabby called it when she came into the kitchen on Monday evening and told us that Christine wanted to get together with us and Karen Suderman on Thursday. It actually had very little to do with debriefing about, well, anything. Regardless, we still wanted to call it that. So while the boys were taking over the lounge that evening watching Lord of the Rings, Gabby, Connie, and stayed in the kitchen and made a "women's issue" list to discuss on Thursday.

Thursday came around, and even though I felt bad for leaving the boys to a normal work day, while we women got the day off, I was super pumped. Karen and Christine took us around the Midmar Meander all day – it was great! (Midmar is this dam/large lake and you can drive around it to all these tiny craft shops. Awesome). We had wanted to go out to breakfast at this Belgium Chocolate Coffee shop (I know, right?), but there was some plumbing issue and so the café part was closed. Instead, we briefly explored the chocolate shop and had a little pre-breakfast chocolate. (Yep, chocolate for breakfast. I knew right away that this was going to be a good day). We eventually found ourselves at this Farm Stall/Café called "Piggly Wiggly" and actually the sign kind of looked like the grocery store in the south. It was beautiful – well at least I think so, but then again, going to get coffee/breakfast is like my favorite thing to do recently. One of the reasons to blog about this day was because of the coffee drink we had – it was a chocolate double expression cappuccino with chocolate mousse covering the top. Oh. My. Gosh. So great. The café was actually part of a "farm store" so the three of us bought great preserves for Sanford, Karl, and Willie (our Dads).

But I think the funniest thing about this day was the fact that Connie had brought the list and we actually talked about "issues" that were on it. It was great. The whole day was very much needed and so much fun. I decided to claim it as part of my birthday celebration, even though it technically wasn't "for" that. I am really grateful for all of those women in my life. And for the ability to eat chocolate with them in the morning.

South Africa is great.

The Beginning of the End

And thus it begins.

This past week was full of our "first lasts" – our last Youth Leaders meeting on Wednesday, our last Kids Klub on Friday, our last youth on Friday, and for me, my last time going to A Rocha (actually that's not true – I didn't go to A Rocha at all this past week. In fact, I wasn't even aware that my last time at those schools was my last time). Actually, I am kind of excited about this since it will free up a lot of our time and thus we can spent more intentional time with each other and other people here.

But, I guess, in a way, it is kind of sad. We were at Kids Klub on Friday when Thandi magically got the kids to settle down and listen to her. After she told them that this was the last Kids Klub until Holiday Club, she had the kids thank us and gave a speech about how much we'll be missed. And Okay, I am not the best with kids so Kids Klub can be overwhelming for me. However, I finally found a good area in which to help out with – the kitchen (making the kids sandwiches) and then taking pictures too for later BCA related reports. So Kids Klub started off as something I didn't enjoy to something that, yeah, was insane most of the time (ha – ask Tim about his group of boys) but good at the same time. I'm really grateful for the chance to be a part of BCA these past few months. And now that is over – well actually not really because (insert eerie music here) Holiday Club is coming. Eh, but it will be fine.

Some Things…

I've been terrible at blogging lately. Oops. And actually I am trying to make this blog have at least 100 posts so I need to shake off this bad habit or not blogging and well, just sit down and write even if it is about nothing in particular. So this morning I decided to fill you in on some RJ happenings that haven't made the blog yet.

1. Two Mondays ago we decided to take off to the Drakensberg (this mountain range in SA). Mondays, as you may know, are our days off and usually we're so exhausted that we generally do nothing. However, since I am trying to use my time wisely here and not do awesome stuff due to lack of motivation, I suggested we go. And it was great. Actually, it was about a two hour car drive there but we picked up Spar's donuts on the way out of the city (our RJ "family tradition") and relaxed in the car as Kyle, the driver, pointed out all the signs that said "Berg" on them. [Berg is his surname]. Even though the drive was long, it was just nice to relax with everyone in the car. Our radio magically works (it hasn't this entire time we've been using the Ballade) but we don't have an antenna, so we sang along to whatever we could get to come through as it faded in and out.

We got to this place called Monks Craw close to noon, paid, and spent the rest of the afternoon hiking. Okay, so I love the idea of hiking. It's really nice. But in reality, I hate it. I am trying to get over this though because it is really a nice idea – you get exercise and you get to see cool places. However, I am super out of shape and although we got to do cool things like see a waterfall and dip our feet in this freezing stream, we were all wiped out at the end. Connie and I actually made "Goodbye parents" videos on my camera because we were so dehydrated that "we didn't think we were going to make it out of there alive." (The videos are really funny and I'll post them as soon as I get back to the States). Overall though, South Africa is beautiful and it was a great "Family forced fun" time for all of us – even if we almost died. Ha.

2. This past Sunday, Kyle, Gabby, Christian, and I caravanned with the LDs (Phil and Christine) to watch the Comrades Marathon – an 89K race that starts in PMB and ends in Durban. 89K!! That roughly translates into 55.5 miles!!! I didn't even know that was humanly possible. A solid time for this race is like 10 hours or so. It takes us an hour to drive from PMB to Durban, going up and down all these rolling hills. Yeah. South African runners are insane. Wow. I am actually not sure why more people don't die during this thing. (I don't think anyone did die this year). I know I wouldn't even make it out of the city – that's for sure. Anyway, we stopped several places along the way to cheer for the LDs friend, which, of course, resulted in us cheering for complete strangers. And although Kyle and Christian did strange things (i.e. cheered for each other or Gabby and myself as if we were running), it was really fun. A lot of the people got excited when they saw this crazy bunch of North Americans/Africans cheering very loudly for them. People's names were written on their number so if they were close enough to us we could cheer for them by name. If not, I tended to look for people with specific things on their shirt – this resulted in us cheering for a lot of Canadians, Americans – including a guy from Wisconsin, Japanese, Australians, the University of KwaZulu Natal, an Athletic club called "Florida" who all had neon pink shirts, "Blood donor guy" who had a giant stuffed "blood donor awareness creature strapped to his back, Hawaiian shirt guy, and people who did strange things with their hair/wore funny hats. And there was even some guy who dressed up like a rhino to "save the rhinos" and run a marathon at the same time. Insanity. And since we were "following Joe" (the LDs friend) we saw a lot of the same people over and over again – so that was really fun.

3. I might have blogged about this before but going to the movies at the mall in PMB on Tuesdays is super cheep. And awhile ago Connie and I realized that it is a complete waste of our time here if we aren't going to the movies every single Tuesday. In fact, we have failed because this whole time we've been here (well prior to this realization) we had only gone like 4 times. What have we been doing? Seriously? Especially since when we first got here movies were only R10 on Tuesday – and even now they are R16 (which is about $2.something), it still is a waste not to go. So we go. This past Tuesday was our forth week in a row of movie watching. So far so good. On Tuesday, we took Yonela with us and Pastor Irvin (who is here for the week from Bloemfontein) tagged along as well. We ended up going to two fairly mediocre movies, but that's fine. It's still fun to go every week, to sit by Constance in order so we can share commentary the entire way through (yep, we're those people), and watch movies. It's great.

Well this is long. But that's what we have been up to lately.

Christian

We can always here him heading towards the manse when we sit at the table in the kitchen – that dragging sound his slops make as he steps up to the door. Christian: our Congolese neighbor who has become a dear friend/brother to all of us and the unofficial 6^th member of Radical Journey: South Africa.

"Yogurt!" He calls me to me every time he sees me. Christian is notorious for his nicknames [Yogurt derives from Yoder]. He has one for everyone. There was a time when he would ask me "Yogurt! What kind?" and I would duly respond, "strawberry" or something else ridiculous like that. [Explanation – "What kind?" is South African slang for "How are you?"]

My favorite thing that Christian and I do now is every time we see that the other one is wearing something new (or something so old that we haven't worn for awhile since it is now getting cold) we'll tell the other, "the Lord is good, eh? Testify to how the Lord has been good to you." Or something along those lines. It's really funny.

Anyway, the reason I am posting a blog solely about our friend is because seeing Christian every day is one of the things I am really going to miss about South Africa. But also, Christian's birthday was on Saturday. He told prior to his birthday that he never celebrated his birthday before – so of course that means we need to have a party. We celebrated the day by making him pizza for lunch (a food that he initially told us he didn't like until we made it for him, now he likes it a lot. Then in the early afternoon we had people over to have cake and chill with. It was great to be able to celebrate with him – especially since he had never had "real birthday party" before and for someone who loves to make birthdays into elaborate occasions, I really enjoyed it.

And actually the Lord has been really good to us here, by blessing us with Christian's immediate friendship. All our other friendships really didn't evolve until the beginning of the year. But Christian's been here since day 1. And I am grateful for him.

God’s Story, Our Story

Faith is like planting a tree in Kansas. Commitment is like watering it every day.

In the book, God's story, our story, the author gives this illustration of faith being like planting a tree in Kansas where it is windy and dry. Watering it so it can maintain life takes a little bit of effort. I like this idea whole lot more than any of those "it takes a spark to start of fire" type of imagines about faith. The problem I have with fire is that it might swell up quickly but in the end, you're completely burnt out. Plus, what does fire do? Destroy. Not only that, but what do you have to do get caught a spark? Hardly anything except be in the right place at the right time. But this tree imagery – yeah that's something that feels a lot more like faith. Faith starts like a seed planted in the ground. But the thing is that trees take a long time to grow. So even when I don't see anything changing, I stick with it. I water it even when I don't feel like it or feel as if I am the most inadequate person to be taking care of it.

Ps. Russell asked us the other day if we were on fire for Christ. Honestly, this was a hard question for me (and us) to answer. Not only can it have weird connotations but also it sounds very "evangelical" to me and I am not sure what about me in "evangelical" in the way that I unfortunately think about it [this is obviously coming from my American culture and all the negative things "evangelical" can mean). Sometimes, it's really hard to think about my faith like fire because what about the times when I feel like I am in the desert and feel like my faith is barely hanging on. I find myself so frustrated with church most of the time that it's hard to see myself as "on fire" because "on fire" people are never like that. They love going to church. Or so it appears. On really bad days, I wonder that if I didn't honestly believe with my entire being that Jesus was who he said he was and has called us to so much more than the world has to offer us, if I would just give up completely.

But here I am, watering my tree.

I like to think about faith like this because it is hard work. No one really tells you when you're in Sunday School that faith sometimes sucks. That being committed to God, faith, and the church when you're going through a "rough patch" feels more like manual labor than anything else. But I still do it because I believe that God's story is my story – that I have been grafted in to something that is so much larger than my limited perception.

The Shadows

I could tell winter was coming as I sat on my beach towel on the Durban sand, listening to the Indian Ocean crash against the rocks that were jutting out along the shoreline. It was the sun gave it away. It was different, not the devastating sun we been used to all summer long. Instead, felt as if it was already 3pm instead of noon. My Northern Hemisphere body was not used to this. I generally find it's easier to handle heat in December, but I find it completely confusing by the autumn weather that is quickly approaching now when it "should be" spring.

But there we were, nevertheless, books in hand, toes digging into the sand – being beach bums in autumn.

I was feeling fairly sentimental that day as I sat on my towel facing the water. The wind was too cold to stay sitting up for long. So I'd eventually lie back down and with sunglasses shielded eyes, stare at the brilliant blue sky – the kind that, when it's warm enough, makes me miss Palestine. But Palestine wasn't on the frontlines of my mind as I found myself wondering if this was the last time that I'd be at the Indian Ocean. If this was it.

Time is slipping past us and so I am not too sure when we'll be able to make it back to the beach before 12 July. I would like to believe that more of my world travels will eventually bring me back to the Indian Ocean but who honestly knows if that will happen. It was here that I had this thought. I'd like to believe that heaven is a lot like the kind C.S. Lewis wrote about in the final chapter of the Narnia series When Lucy, Edmund and Peter stepped through the door into heaven they found it to be all that they loved about Narnia x a million. That's awesome. And I like Plato's idea that what we see in this life is only a shadow of the real one. So that when I sit on the shore of the Indian ocean or climb Cape Point, that those things are just shadows of the real Indian Ocean and Cape Point. Whenever I am surrounded by the beauty of South Africa, it's hard to imagine that there is anything out there that is more breathtaking. But there is.

And yeah, maybe I'll never make it back to the Indian Ocean in these last few months – and maybe not even ever. But it's kind of exciting to think that I might get to see the real one someday. And then we'll be able to talk about beauty.

Mother’s Day

When I was little, my mother used to always wake me up in the mornings – for school, church, whatever. When I was in high school, I finally got an alarm clock and I used it all the time to get myself up in the mornings. I used it to get up for school, but also to get up on Saturdays when I had nothing particular to do and could sleep in. However, I never, ever used to set my alarm for Sundays. Ever. Looking back now, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I wanted to go to church with my family and I knew what time were going to eat breakfast and head out of the door. But for some reason I never set my alarm. Instead, I counted on my mom to wake me up. And she did.

Now I obviously love both my parents very much but there was a definite difference between how my parents did stuff – like wake me up in the morning. For instance, when my mom would wake me up, she would come into my room, pull the blankets away from my face, and maybe do something like brush my crazy hair out of my face or kiss my forward and gently wake me up. But also, she would stay in the room until she saw that our eyes were open or that we were sitting up, proof that we were actually awake and responsive before she would leave. And it was great. But when my dad had to wake us up – yikes. You can always tell when my dad was coming to wake us up because you could hear Sanford loud and clear. He would be downstairs in the kitchen singing at the top of his lungs "Good morning Jesus, Good morning Lord" – this crazy song about something like the holy spirit moving like a dove. It was short and catchy and it drove me crazy because he would sing it over and over again. Oh man it was awful. I would hear this man coming for me and I would do everything I could to pretend like his loud singing wasn't waking me up. It was actually pretty easy to do too, since after he was done singing he would just walk into the room and say "Anna breakfast is on the table" and leave. So if he wasn't singing, it was really easy to fall back asleep. Some mornings, when I was feeling particularly stubborn, I would refuse to "wake up" until mom came and got me.

Okay, so what does this have to do with anything, right? Well, I like mother's day not only because it's a nice way to celebrate the women God has placed in our lives, but also because it gives us a glance of a side of God that we don't really think about. That God is not only "father' to us but also "mother." Like in this story, both of my parents had different tactics of waking me up – one wasn't necessarily better than the other, even if I would get annoyed with my dad – they were just different. God gave us both mothers and fathers so we could see a more holistic view of who he is. That if we as both male and females were made in the very likeness and image of God then that means there is a very real, mothering side to our heavenly Father. I like to believe that God is like Sanford in this story, joyfully singing us wake whether we like it or not, but also like our mothers who created us, who nurture us, who stays by our side and gently kisses us awake to God's love.

[Mom this blog is for you – this is what I shared at youth on Sunday afternoon]

Sanctuary

A few days ago, I was convinced that I was never going to blog again. Yet, here I am, three days later, doing the very thing I promised I'd never do (thanks particularly to the simple persuasion of my sister and the evident fact that I love to write). And after today, I find that it is too hard to stay away.

Gabby and I are trying to be more intentional with our time that we have left here in Pietermaritzburg. We've lived in this city for 7 months and, yet, we hardly know it. So this morning, we decided to finally get off our lazy bums and go off on an adventure. This morning lead us to the National Botanical Gardens, which is literally right down the road from where we stay, but we've just never made the time to go.

After a solid 20-30 minute walk, we were at the front gate. After we paid the small fee, we were suddenly transformed from the mundane streets to a cathedral of trees. It was breath taking. The trees, which had been planted in 1908, towered over us as we slowly walked through the tunnel of trees.

"This feels like a church," I said to Gabby. I thought about what I said for a moment before I add. "No, this feels like God." Although the natural display of the trees felt very much like an ancient cathedral, I was truly aware this morning that God was walking with us.

As all of you know (a little too well I am afraid), I have been struggling here a lot. But this morning, walking with a good friend among the trees, throughout the gardens, and washing our feet in the stream, I was made aware of that God is beckoning me to God's side. I just haven't been listening very well.

I'm afraid that I've made quite a mess of things. But I am so thankful today that I serve a God who surprises me in the most unexpected places – like outside, in the middle of a garden hidden away in the heart of a city. I often forget how God tends to find me in God's creation. So when I am not meeting God at the kitchen table at the manse, I need to get out of my chair and go outside and say, "Here I am God. Please find me."

And today, I was found amongst the shadows of the mighty tree cathedral. It's about time.

Friday Thoughts

There is no general point to this blog besides the fact that I feel like writing something and since my novella has hit a 2 month wall of no progress, I might as well try and keep up with other outlets.

So I did something this morning for the very first time. I went running all by myself this morning. and guess what? it was great.

I've been struggling with body image this whole time we're been here. Africans love their starches and since I haven't been in a regular exercise routine, I've gained a little bit of weight. Not a lot, but enough to make me frustrated at myself. so being able to convince myself to actually get out of bed this morning ( I am pretty sure I hit my snooze button consistently about 10 times) was a great thing. and now that I been able to go by myself and be okay with, I am hoping to do this consistently until we leave.

Today is not an internet day but since it's the last day of the month, we are trying to use up the rest of our gigs. It's great. So another plus side of getting up early to run is the ability to actually have a "morning" before we have to rush off to church. My favorite times of the day are when I am sitting in the kitchen, alone, with the peace of the house, drinking my tea and oatmeal raisin muffin, and generally just being.

I found out this morning that A Rocha was canceled for today, which is fine but I was kind of looking forward to getting off campus. I haven't been to A rocha since the end of March thanks to Convention and Cape Town stuff. crazy. The little kids in my Friday group are also my favorite, especially Matthew who, the first time I met him was eating this huge thing of fries and said. "I love chips. Mr. Chips. Call me Mr. Chips." great stuff.

But since there is no A rocha this morning, I may or may not be mowing the lawn today. I enjoy mowing but this a fairly frustrating thing I am volunteering for since my definition of cut grass is different here. (People love their lawns short) Sometimes the blade gets caught on the ground. shame

Anyway, these are all the thoughts I have as of now...

Cape Town: We’re going places

Prepare yourselves. This is going to be a super long blog.

On Thursday, 15 April, my teammates and I left PMB and headed off into the great unknown. Well, that is to say, we were making our way to Cape Town some 16 hours away. The trip got off to a weird start. We were supposed to leave first thing in the morning on Thursday in order to make it to Bloemfontain (our pit stop for the night) to hang out with the NZMI pastor's family there. However, due to some unfortunate events (the car was in the shop forever), we didn't end up leaving until roughly 2:30 with a six hour drive ahead of us and only a few hours of sunlight remaining. Praying that our bumper would stay on, I was just glad to get away from the fleas and bugs that have been rapidly raiding the manse as we finally (finally!) headed out on our Cape Town journey.

After a restless night, we said goodbye Pastor Irvin and his family and headed out (a little bit disappointed that we couldn't stay in Bloem longer since the place looks beautiful, places are actually open past 6 and we can't really remember very much of it since we were so jetlag the last time we were there for convention in September). 10 hours is a long time for the five of us to be jammed into the ballade, even if it is a champion of a car. We drove through some pretty arid areas (which reminded me of the part of Colorado, right before you get to the Rocky Mountains) before we reached the looming mountains and lush vineyards of the Western Cape. It was long but it was beautiful.

We arrived just in time to go to the NZMI church's youth that Friday evening, which is way tinier than our church's youth (since New Zion is only 12 years old) but it was so nice. It felt more "youth group-ish." like what I went to back in the day.

The next day, we had no idea what they had in store for us. During the planning stages of this trip, we had asked the NZMI church if we could come and be with them for a weekend (in order to turn this "holiday" into a work-cation in order to "justify" it. So we had no idea if they were going to put us to work or what. Originally the plan had been that on Saturday we were going to help someone with some type of "sports outreach" (internal groan - I am terrible at all things sports) but that is all we knew. I don't know if Pastor Hilton had anything to do with this or not (since he did tell us that we should just relax in Cape Town) but we woke up on Saturday morning (late) and discovered that nope, we weren't going to be working at all.  The morning was interesting since Ps. Hilton and Mama Rhoda took us to the arcade in the mall. Afterwards, the Youth pastor and a bunch of people from the church were going to take us around the city instead. (Apparently Cape Town is insanely chill. It's awesome. Unlike PMB where it's culturally appropriate to get up at like 5 or 6 since sleeping in can be seen as being "lazy," Cape Townians apparently like to stay up late and sleep in longer. Finally). It was so nice. They took us to Hout bay first where they bought us ice cream (which is always a win with me for sure), took us along the Atlantic cost, and eventually ended up at the V and A waterfront, which is this insanely large mall(s) area where we had fish and chips (at, unfortunately, a chain restaurant). The whole was great. It was really nice of them.

On Sunday, we got to experience life again when church was over before lunch. Stellar.

The next two days were filled with our own adventures (even though we ended up staying with the Tooheys the whole time). On Monday we drove down the Indian Ocean side down to Simon's bay to see penguins!!! It was awesome, even if we had to pay to see them. Boo. Then we had lunch at a cute café and drove down to Cape Point National Park where we proceeded to hike up to a lighthouse at Cape Point before we headed down another trail to the Cape of Good Hope. Wow. I can't even begin to describe how unreal the beauty of Cape Point is. All I know that as I looked down on both the Indian and Atlantic ocean, I knew that God was near. Unbelievable. After the park we drove up the Atlantic side and were able to park and watch the sunset before we found a nice pizzeria for supper. :-)

Tuesday brought about a very similar day – but way more chill. Instead of climbing a mountain, we decided to head back down to the False Bay area and just find a coffee shop and chill, which we did. That is what I love – conversations over coffee and great slices of quiche.

We rolled out of Cape Town on Wednesday morning. We stopped at backpackers in Jeffrey's Bay (which is a surfing town right on the coast). I wish we could've stayed there longer. The ocean was a block away from our flat. Awesome.

We spent the rest of our time in Mthatha, where we were going to hang out with Sawatzky's again but found out at the last minute that they forget that they were going to be away. But they still invited us to come and chill. So we did. We barely did anything for three days. It was awesome. It was also cold so most of the time was spent drinking large quantities of tea, reading, or being bundled up on the couch watching Dvds. Amazing.

And now we're back. And it's hard to get over that. Cape Town was probably the most beautiful place I've ever been too. Plus, Mthatha was great too. We definitely needed that type of getaway.

I am glad to be out of the car though. Wow. It was a lot of driving. But it was still all worth it (especially as our ballade wove in and out of a pack of baboons in the middle of the road).

Now, I just have to gear up for the last stretch of life in Pietermaritzburg. Aybo.

(Side note: One of my favorite things to do during our many road adventures was to watch out for the "animal crossing" signs. They were great. We saw the typical deer ones – although here that means impala or something along that family line, but we did see tons of pothole warnings, high accident zones (including a sign that said Days accident free:0, Record without accident: 11), but my favorites included a sign with a cow on it, (but underneath it, it had a random phone number. So it looked as if you could call the cow. Awesome.), penguins, baboons and my absolute fav: an airplane. That was somewhere near Mthatha. Was the road a landing strip also? Nobody knows. Regardless, it was still hilarious.)

Dee-Dah Day things

This blog is for you, Leah

My sister has this phrase. Well actually she borrowed it from a book that I never brought myself to read. Nevertheless, I am going to use it for this blog. I don't even remember what the book is called right now but there is this part (that she told me about) where it talks about learning to celebrate God by celebrating the ordinary joys in life. So instead of being really frustrated and using this blog an outlet for my stress and tears (which it tends on being) I decided to point out some dee-dah day type of things because I know I need to appreciate South African life instead of aimlessly counting down the days…

On Wednesday, Gabby, Connie and I went on a walk after work in order to try and have a more active lifestyle (so far that is not going so well). Anyway, when we returned we found that Marco and Melanie Voller (the people who we spent Christmas with) had dropped off a ton of groceries for us – including oreo cookies, which are my favorite things ever! As we stood in the kitchen, unpacking the six bags of groceries, I was amazed at how much of a blessing they have been to us even though we don't know them very well.

We spent a lot of time with people this week and our one friend, Michele, who to university far from here, was here for the holiday. I was blessed by her gentle spirit and instantaneous friendship. Also, I found out that she loves Palestine, which made my heart soar. This particular evening (Wednesday) we were at our friend's (Abie's) house and discovered that his parents are amazing people. His mother was especially wonderful and gave us lots of tips about our upcoming Cape Town trip. I was blessed to know her.

We have had no church activities this post-convention week.  So on Friday night I did nothing. Instead of going to Kids Klub and half night of prayer, I sat on the couch and soaked in the nothingness of the evening. Since I am still recovering from convention, this was definitely needed.

Today (Saturday), the girls and I (and Tim who went for fear of being sucked into some type of BCI related work) went to the Suderman's to have a Zac Efron-athon with Karen. It. Was. Awesome. We watched High School Musical 3 and Hairspray and ate. Wow did we eat. We had banana bread in the morning. Chili for lunch. And peanut butter popcorn in the afternoon. Awesome!! The weather was cold and rainy too – perfect for sitting inside and doing nothing – well and watching the beauty that is Zac Efron. Musicals are the best. 

Currently, my hair has some type of Taylor Swift vibe going on. It's awesome. 

Also, I was feeling fairly frustrated about life tonight and then I got on facebook and got a wave of encouragement from my friend, Kare Knapp. It was perfect. I Praise God for her friendship.

And those, sister, are my Dee-Dah Day things from this week.

You Americans

It's really hard to sit there, unsure what to say, when people make generalizations right at you. This surprisingly hasn't happened a lot since we've been here, but earlier this week it seemed to come with full force. I was sitting in the office trying to work on BCA's annual report when someone came and started talking to me forever about how Americans are.

Uh…

Don't get me wrong, I am the first to admit that there are lots of things that have gone wrong in the States. After all, we have a lot of blood (and high fructose corn syrup) on our hands. Part of the reason I wanted to do this program as to get out of the United States for awhile. I have found that it's hard to explain that to people here, even if they don't like the US they are often surprised when I say that as whole, I do not either.

I've been struggling with this a lot since being here. I miss home, which means I miss the States. And that sounds weird and out of place to me. Yet, when I think about that, it's not that unnatural since what I love about the States comes down to people (well, and ice cream. Ha) – my family, friends, and people who have impacted my life (and that I'm tired of being far away from). When this someone told me that Americans (as in our Radical Journey group here) are more prone to stay in the states as oppose to the Canadians who are more open to it (I'm not sure where this guy got this from), I wanted to tell him that for me I guess that is true but it comes down to the fact that Barb, Sanford, Aaron, Janice, Titus, Michaela, Leah, Jeron, Kare, Jille, Drea, Laura, Krista, Steph, and Jills live there than easy access to cheap, corn feed and filled food.

Regardless, I get really frustrated when South Africans come up to me and tell me everything that is wrong with the States, especially when they loop me in with their generalizations. I find it very difficult to say anything in these situations. Sometimes, I wonder if would do anything if I spoke up for myself at all. After all, the States needs to be lectured on lots of things. Often, it is also that I don't even know what to say. How do you tell someone who tells you to your face that all Americans are materialistic and only care about clothes and make-up when hello! I'm right here in front of them with practically no make-up, my hair frizzy from the humidity, and the fact that I've been wearing the same pair of pants consistently for the past week.

I'm pretty bad at sticking up for myself, especially when I sometimes agree with everything they are saying. Still, I don't like to be lumped into the "you Americans" group, when I rather be lumped in with those environmental, pro-Palestinian, God's kingdom on earth, anti-corn syrup, anti-blind consumerism, jubilee economics, simple living, third way Jesus' shalom type of hippy freaks so would rather challenge the system they live in rather than become just like it or run from it. Obviously, I don't have these things down. But it's hard to express that there is so much more to me than being an America. Or that doesn't always have to mean the terrible connotations that it holds throughout the world. Maybe God has placed me there for a reason – to be a part of a movement that challenges what my government is doing with my tax dollars, that doesn't live with a blind eye to the world, but rather engages, yet never fully participates in order to bring about radical generosity and love to the places I find myself in.

I want to live in a way in which people are confused as to why I don't fit into their "you Americans" generalizations. Am I there yet? I am not sure…

March Burger-Goulet-Easter Madness

There was one thing that was getting us through convention: the hope of the final game of March Madness. This might sound weird (especially since I do like basketball but hardly ever follow it close enough) but it was more than just watching the game, it was the idea that by that time on Monday, convention would be over and our lives would slow down, if only for a brief moment.

These plans all started when we were with Joe and Anna in Mthatha. Joe, who is a big Kansas fan, told us that they were planning on coming to Maritzburg during the weekend of March Madness (which also happened to be Easter weekend, though we didn't realize it at the time). We left with "big plans" to meet up with them and the Sudermans, brackets in hand, to watch the final games.

Our hopes were somewhat dashed when we got home and realized that BCI's convention was the same weekend. But thanks to the beauty of South African time, the final game actually was aired on Tuesday. But I am getting ahead of myself here.

The Monday after convention was our official day off and so we met up with the Sawatzky's at Essence Café. (This is the burger part of the celebration). While we were in Mthatha, we told Joe and Anna about our favorite PMB place – Essence Café, which, according to the boys has the best hamburgers maybe in the world. (We'll have to take their word for it now since I am trying to avoid red meat, so I had something else instead). It was great. Celebration 1.

Celebration 2: the Goulet award. So the Sawatzky's and the Suderman's have this ridiculous porcelain dog figurine that has somehow become known as the "Goulet Award" based off the Will Farrel SNL skit that we have been competing for ever since its beginnings. We have had it in our house since retreat (although we didn't win it per se since there was no official winner, so we just took it). But it was up for grabs again with the bracket pools. Andrew – the only one who picked Duke to win, is now the proud owner of the Goulet award.

Celebration part 3: On Tuesday after word, we all headed to the Suderman's house to watch the final game – Butler vs. Duke. We ate popcorn and yelled at the tv and had a lot of banter going on between all of us and Andrew, Karen and four year old Moses – the only Duke fans in the room. It was awesome.

Celebration part 4: After the game was over, we packed up all the food that had been cooking during the game and went up to Hilton where the Sawatzky's were staying and had Easter dinner together at like 9 at night. Yum.

Overall, all I can say is how grateful I was for this time to get away, to celebration convention being over, and to generally just chill in front of a good basketball game. I am so blessed to be a part of this community and it's times like this when I realize that. Since I can't be with my own family during the holidays being with the Sawatzkys and the Sudermans and the rest of our Mennonite connections here is definitely the next best thing.

Goulet.

The Brightside of Convention

(The last installment of the convention report 2010)

I am sitting on the couch in the lounge right now, feeling extremely tired, feeling like we've been through some type of hurricane. But I am so glad that all things convention are generally over. (We have a lot of cleanup work to do tomorrow). Even though I am glad that we plowed through convention, I decided to list some of the good things about convention instead of anymore headaches or complaints because I am sure no one really wants to read that (nor am I really comfortable posting them on the web for the world to see). Regardless, here are some good things…

Tired community: Even though being exhausted sucks a lot, people say and do lots of funny things when they are running on no sleep. Connie and I had a lot of great moments like this when were working in the tent on the production until 3:30 the night before convention. We watched some guys try and play cricket with a ball of type and huge round cardboard stick they found and laughed at pretty much everything, especially random things Christian said (who staysp in the tent to "guard" it from robbers).

Floyd McClung: This man was our guest speaker. He lives in South Africa but is actually from the States and is the guy who started YWAM apparently. He had a lot of good things to say.  I appreciated his theological depth

The arts: the NZMI churches have some pretty talented youth. It's cool to be in a church community that celebrates the arts and provides the time, space and talent in order to incorporate them into the worship services.

The production: See the blog about that – but I'll say it again. It was awesome to be able to participate in the convention in this way.

The youth Sports event: The youth spent Easter morning not in church, but rather playing sports and generally chilling at Carter High School. Okay, I was really apprehensive about this. The last sports thing the BCI had for the youth was awful, awful. But this time, they chose not to do tournaments but just made up teams them and let them play one another. I opted to be a part of "Team Tuck Shop" (aka working at the snack shop -South African style) instead of being forced to play. But even if I hadn't I doubt that I would've been forced to play soccer. So the morning turned into a fun time for sports fans and people who just wanted to chill on the grass all morning. It was nice.

I don't know what to call this one – but in the evening service on Sunday we sang the chorus of "How Great Thou Art" I practically started crying as about 1000 voices started singing this hymn with loud drums or bass. It was beautiful and practically a balm to my soul. And in that moment I was grateful to be a part of the church in the global south.

Being able to laugh: Lots of stressful and nerve-racking things happened this weekend and I am sure that I was not the best version of myself all the time. However, even now, just a day after the convention ended, we've been able to laugh. Christian and I especially like to quote the man who came in our house looking for our extra fridge in the back. Wow.

Well, I think that's it. And today is resurrection Monday. Praise God for that.

It’s Friday – but Monday’s coming

(Due to the fact that I haven't had time to blog in ages, I am going to post these as separate items since. That way it is easier for you to actually read them).

For those of you who don't know, Pastor Russell put me in charge of the "production" for Easter for the first NZMI Breakthru Convention. The first time he mentioned it was just in passing and so I didn't really know what I was saying yes to. I believe that "conversation took place in February and I didn't really think too much about it until I finally was able to sit down with Ps. Russell at the beginning of March (right before we left for Mthatha) to find out what the heck this actually means. And all I really have to say is wow, it's definitely been a journey.

I don't really handle stress very well. I've known this. I like creating more drama then there needs to be. At school, this was especially true with basically every project. Crazy. But I don't think that I've ever been this stressed out about something in a long, long time. It was unbelievable. It kept me awake at night, it made my heart hurt (literally, which hasn't happened since jr. year of Bluffton when I was so stressed with so many things that the muscles around my heart actually hurt), and it made me cry a lot. Wow. I made a fool in front of a lot of people. Thankfully, everyone was pretty understanding about it.

Anyway, Good Friday was the big day. But the whole time leading up to this convention/production was really frustrating since we were so busy and I couldn't get people organized very well and stuff with the tent wasn't ready until practically the day before (or of) convention itself. So we were finally able to put the pieces of the production together an hour before the service started that evening. Oh man. That was not good for me at all.

I guess I should explain a little bit about this. Since the production was for Good Friday, I had it center around the crucifixion since it was Good Friday. So the title of this piece of works was "Prelude to a Resurrection" which features, audio, visuals, dance, drama and music in order to tell the story of Christ's crucifixion. Instead of being like a play or a musical or something insane like that I took pieces of the arts and placed them together. It all started off with a dance/mine to an audio track that Tim and I recorded using music, sounds, and pre-recorded voices to tell the story of creation, the fall, and a people crying out for the Messiah. This was actually my favorite, favorite, favorite part of the whole thing. Tim and I worked FOREVER on this thing – recording people's voices, re-recording them, placing music in the background, and finding the right sound effects. I think the whole thing was close to 4 minutes long but it took us probably about 24 hours total (if not more so) to complete it. But what was really fun and probably the most fun I've had at work here at BCI. Getting to hang out and be creative all day long is probably the best job any one could ever have. After that part came Yonela's poem (a friend from the senior youth leader's who is an amazing writer) which depicted the voice of Jesus. Third came Ntuthuko's rap (another senior leader) about the crucifixion itself. And then finally was the monologues I did with Ayanda and Nicole depicting three women that interacted with Jesus, telling the events leading up to his death. (Ayanda was Mary from Bethany who washed Jesus' feet with oil. Nicole was the adulterous woman who Jesus saved from stoning, expect this time she was a witness when Jesus was in front of Pilate and then I was one of the women at the cross).

All of it flowed together pretty well too thanks to the audio/visual transitions that we added in between each act. We recorded people's voices saying the Lord's prayer in French, English, Spanish, Afrikans, and Zulu as well as meshing of the Beatitudes with Jesus' words from the Lord's supper. It turned out really nice, especially thanks to Ps. Irvin (from Bloemfontain)'s Mac. I had actually spent a ton of time working on the powerpoints for these things. However, on Thursday, Ps. Irvin told s that we should reconstruct them in his Max movie whatever program, which was a very good thing but it also meant that on Thursday night before the convention started Connie and I stayed up until 3:30 in the morning (in the stupid tent) working on this. I am glad we did it thought because I think we might've had some major glitches if we didn't.

Overall, things were really hectic but it was definitely worth it I think. I know that all my dancers for the first part really enjoyed doing everything with the billows and the lights. (We can't wait to see the video). But it was also really exciting to see stuff that I had written and seen in my head come to life. It makes me very excited about the possibilities of exploring this type of things further, even though I don't really know what that means. All I know, if nothing else, I am grateful that BCI gave me the chance to do something big like this. It's definitely cool to be in a church where the arts are really important and focused on a lot.

And now it's all over. All that hard work has suddenly faded away. And all I know is that I am going to sleep very well tonight.

Well...

As of today that tent is officially up.

Blog me a river

I am a little bit displeased with myself about how little I am blogging about. It's really depressing. The more hectic my schedule becomes the less time I make for writing (note – the longer this goes on the unhappier I become…) Plus I feel like everything I am doing isn't very exciting or that I am exhausted all the time that I don't have any creative juices left in me (or that I am so tired that I forget to look for cool things to blog about). This is the worst.

So even though I am really tired and it's already 10 o'clock (and I couldn't fall asleep last night. Again). I am determined to write this blog because even if my creative writing is suffering (and I am not sure if I will make my goal of finishing my novella before I leave. Sad face) I will not my blog go untouched.

Since I have no real story to tell, this blog might end up as a list of complaints, which I am okay with as long as you give me a little bit of grace as you read this. Things here have been going fine but I am currently under a lot of stress. When things start to pile up, wow, I feel like I am drowning. That is how I currently feel. Plus when I get stressed out messes make me feel even more disoriented, and guess what people, I live in the manse where clutter and dirt originate. I am surprised I haven't pulled out my hair yet.

Actually, it's fairly ironic how stressed I feel (sometimes I can feel it effecting my heart. Literally. Which hasn't happened since jr. year of Bluffton). The main thing is this crazy production that I am in charge of for the Easter Convention. I will be feeling okay with it until I get hit with another round of pressure. For instance, I was getting ready for bed tonight when I realized there was a SMS on my phone that "reminded" us that Saturday is supposed to be a dress rehearsal day. Wow. I am nowhere near ready for that. And the tent is supposed to be going up this week so we will all be helping with that, so I am not sure when the heck this is going to get done. It's really discouraging. I think I would've been fine if I hadn't looked at my phone just now. But I did. I just hope it doesn't interfere with the quality of sleep that I may or may not get tonight.

I really just need a chance to breath – to relax without any expectations on me for time or what not. This hasn't happened since we were in Mthatha. The last few evenings we've had people over. On Sunday, we literally had people in the manse from 10 to 10 or 11Actually that has been great and I really enjoy cooking for people and "breaking Avanti's bread" together, that has been a real blessing. Still, I am so ready for a day that has nothing planned. Yesterday was a public holiday but since we still live at the manse, we still had to work (even though it's our day off – which generally means a day when we do less work than other days but still have to work). Thus I am still trying to catch my breath and I am not sure if that will happen for awhile. And maybe not even until July…

Well instead of chucking my phone into the garbage. Every time my phone rings or buzzed I internally cringe because I know it's something for work) in order to take a 7 day nap, I am going to try and read my book for awhile until I am too tried to stay awake.

Goodnight.

Holy Inefficiency

For awhile now, we've been trying to figure to how to maintain some Sabbath time as a team. It hasn't been going so well especially with the Easter convention coming up. Our time is constantly demanded. We also aren't very good at speaking up for ourselves. However, this past Monday we finally were able to carve out a little bit of time for a break from all stressed of BCI (even though we had to work on Sunday evening. Boo. It was okay though). So on Monday morning we loaded in the car and headed up to Hilton to meet Karen and Andrew Suderman at a coffee shop overlooking a quarry. It was so nice. Besides the mocha and the scone, hanging out with the Suderman's is always a great time. (Goulet). Not only did they treat us for coffee, but also provided us a time to laugh and think about "deep stuff."

During our conversation, Andrew brought up the idea of how sometimes we are called to a "holy inefficient use of time" – that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is sit down with someone and have a cup of coffee, after all, one of the most revolutionary things in the Bible happened when a group of twelve men sat around a table with Jesus. I like this notion a lot (even though I am really bad at it). Still, I think that is has summed up what being a part of Radical Journey is about. I am not always using my skills or gifts or really know why I came here. Nevertheless, being inefficient is okay. We are here, being a part of a larger picture, and so yeah, we won't always know if we are doing anything of real value or impact. But we are here.

So even in the rush of trying to get things ready for convention, and the extreme pressure to get things done by that deadline, it's helpful to think about being inefficient as a way to usher in God's kingdom. It gives me an excuse to take a deep breath, and once again refocus.