Sweet, Sweet, Sweet November

I haven't blogged for a week, which is odd behavior for me. My mother even asked me yesterday if I was okay she hadn't heard from me/ I hadn't blogged in a while.

The main reason for the lack of blogs is the simple fact that I honestly have nothing to say. That and I feel like nothing interesting enough to deserve its own blog post has happened. Things are settling into a constant routine, which is good I guess even though it is rather mundane.

But I do have good news to report so here are a few previous week highlights.

Number 1: On Wednesday, Kyle got a package from his parents. Included in the package was Season Five of The Office! We were ecstatic. Since we still have some episodes left, we are still excited.

Number 2: Also included in this package (but cool enough to get its own recognition) were better mousetraps than apparently all the ones in this country. Seriously. We set them up that evening and guess how many we caught? 4 in a ½ hour. No lie. The first trap actually caught two at the same time. Wednesday evening was a very great time. Since that time we've caught 6 more for a grand total of 9. Actually now the real problem is that the only mice left are the babies, which are too small to set off the trap. So it's an uphill battle. But it's coming and someday I hope there will not be mouse poop on all of our silverware.

Number 3: On one of our journeys to Pick N' Pay, Connie and stopped at the new grocery store down the block from our usual store to check it out. And guess what!? They have black beans!!! Connie and I have been searching everywhere for them. It is so great! Connie made black bean burgers on Thursday night. It was awesome.

Number 4: I skipped youth celebration again on Friday. Yep. I am a terrible person. But I am still not a cell because they keep having celebrations, so it's really awkward. So instead, I stayed home and worked on some of my writing. It was awesome. I haven't done that forever. Definitely the best part of my week.

Number 5 Phil and Christine were in Cape Town this whole week. Before they left they told us that we could use their house to hang out if we wanted to. So on Friday night we headed up to Hilton and stayed until Saturday afternoon – watching movies and basically doing nothing. Apart from the fact that I couldn't fall asleep that evening, it was really stellar. Hilton is a rather safe part of Pietermaritzburg too so in the morning I laced up my tennis shoes (or runners – that's just for you Ruthie) and went for a job. I nearly died, which is frustrating since I worked at running all summer. But it's all gone. Even though I couldn't breathe during the run, it was nice not get catcalled the whole time.

Number 6: This hasn't happened yet but I have enough anticipation for it that I will count it. On Sundays, the Americans make supper. And Connie and I decided that when we cook, we are going to have international themes. So tonight's theme?: Mexican Sunday. On the menu, Spanish rice, refried beans (that we are making) and make your own tacos. We are also making our own tortillas. Yep. It's going to be awesome.

Well these were just some things. Hopefully this coming week will bring about better things to blog about.

Day of Durban

Yesterday, my life became more complete. With great anticipation, we rushed to the shoreline until our toes finally mingled with the salty water of the Indian Ocean.

Check.

We had been waiting for this day all week. Finally, we looked forward to a Saturday that was not going to be overwhelming, stressful or something we look at with lots of dread. Weekends here are typically pretty rough. So you can image the excitement as we load up the car on Saturday morning, leaving Pietermaritzburg in the rearview mirror.

It took us awhile to get there thanks to our ghetto-fabulous Honda Ballade that hates hills and competes with buses and semi-trucks on the way up them. (We also had four in the backseat since Nathan Detweiler was also with us. Needless to say, it was a long hour). Also, we had a map and some previous guidance from Christine but really, all we knew is that we wanted to go to beach north of the actual city. But once we found a good place, oh man, my soul started to sing.

During our day at the beach, I started Mike Yaconelli's book, Dangerous Wonder, and as the ocean lapped in the background, the words on the pages became alive. In his book, Yaconelli talked about this child sense of wonder that is important to the Christian life and a risky curiosity that acknowledges and fears the power of the Almighty and still runs towards Jesus with our whole hearts – a reckless abandonment. I had just finished reading this part of the book when I realized that I was getting too hot sitting there on my beach towel. So I tossed down the book as Connie and I made our way into the water (which we later realized was a "no swimming zone." It was part of our living dangerously adventure I guess).

Okay, first of all, although I love the ocean it kind of freaks me out. This is the case mostly due to the fact that I am terrified of sharks. (Typical an irrational fear- yes I know). And it wasn't until this past summer at the beach in Charleston, SC that Jeron Baker "forced" me to play with them in the ocean. It was incredible. Being in the ocean is far better than laying on the sand, working on a tan (which ends up being a burn anyway). As we waded into the Indian Ocean a sense of wonder was once reawakened inside of me. The water was a little terrifying. The waves that day were extremely choppy, the water was freezing, and lots of people drown in Durban because of the strong currents and the plethora of sharks (yikes). So I was really wary as I made my way farther in. And even though I was somewhat fearful, it was invigorating. As each wave crashed over me, I laughed out loud like I was 5 years old. It was beautiful – yes, the water, but also the moment. It felt like the risky curiosity that I had been reading about in my book. The ocean wasn't tame. But it was good.

We spent a good 5-6 hours at the beach, ridding ourselves of stress. The sun, the water and the time together was a perfect balm (although a rather scorching). Days like this make me believe that I can go back and face anything again.

Or so I thought.

The rest of the evening turned out to be – well – horrific in so many ways. After we left the beach we headed into the city to watch Annika and Lydia Detweiler's ballet recital. I enjoyed it and like supporting the arts, but after a way mediocre supper at "Nandos" I was ready to get out of there.

And I really wish that we could've.

As we were leaving the city we saw the kombi in the lane next to us run into a pedestrian. Full force. The poor guy had no chance. I can still hear the thunk and see the man fly in my head. We have no idea if he survived that at all. For those of you who might not know, Kombis are the terrifying public transportation system in South Africa. They are these taxi type vans that are really sketchy, drive like maniacs, and apparently have no desire to preserve human life. Someone also told us today that if you are white you should probably not ride in them. And as a female, yeah, sorry Darrell there is no chance that I will ever ride in one of them. Especially now.

To make things even worse, we ended up missing our exit for the highway twice and ended up driving around in Durban – in the dark. Oh. My. Gosh. We've heard some pretty awful stories of crime in South Africa and how much of a reality that is here. So guess what was going through my head as we drove through this part of town where tons of men were out and about. Every time someone tells us about the city, they make it sound like the entire city is a gang – ready to destroy everything.

When we finally got back on the N3 and headed back to Pietermaritzburg we saw another accident that had already happened. When I realized what I was looking at, I quickly turned my head away. So I am not sure what exactly we saw. All I know is that there was a cop, a car, a body, and tons of blood.

I've had about enough of South Africa.

I hold on to that treasure I felt in the ocean yesterday, but it gets pretty muddled when all I can think about is how the rest of our evening went. We might have been better staying at the manse.

The holiness of the day

I often forget how majestic God is. Unless I am looking at a breathtaking, awe-full scene in nature, I don't tend to view the Omnipotent Being as just that. While Jesus sits among us, and the Holy Spirit moves within us and through us, I often forget that the loveliness of the Divine – the beauty of Yahweh – dwells over us and around us.

This morning we went with Pastor Russell to The Parish of Saint Mary's Catholic Church in Pietermaritzburg. (Pastor Russell is working on his master's and wanted to sample our responses to the Catholic Mass).
And as I was sitting with the few people that came out on a Friday morning for mass, I couldn't help but think of how beautiful everything was. Growing up in Mennonite churches, I found myself this morning transfixed on the elaborate alter and stain glass windows. I know that beautiful designs do not make something divine but I couldn't get away from this overwhelming feeling of holiness. What was interesting was that I couldn't even hear all the liturgy (since the mic wasn't very loud), but it seemed to be lingering in the air.

I've been rather intrigued with Catholicism ever since I got back from Israel/Palestine. Not that I would ever leave the Mennonite church, but nevertheless, it is still really interesting. During that cross-cultural trip, we went to a lot of Catholic and Orthodox churches. Even though some of the experiences in those church were rather frustrating (because of commercialism and the ridiculous human behavior of tons of tourists), the smell of incense lingering in the air always stirs up something in my heart. I know I am being rather nostalgic but I also know that I met God in some of those churches – commercialized or not – especially when the group of Mennonite students I was with sang hymn after hymn, lifting up our vocal offering to God. It sounded like holiness.

Lately, I've had a lot of church experiences that are so different from each other – from the welcoming embrace of JPUSA to the Spirit filled services of BCI. And now the Catholic Mass. The God I've met at all these traditions looks, acts, sounds, smells, tastes completely different. Yet God is. And God is the same in Chicago as God is in Pietermaritzburg. Seeing different sides of God that I am not familiar with is a huge  challenge. The God I see here at BCI is so different. Often, I feel estranged from this God – like an outsider rather than a beloved daughter. I am not really sure how to handle that right now.

But today I saw the holiness of God the father in the stillness of the service at Saint Mary's (which is quite a change from the thundering service of BCI). It made my heart beat in a new way, if only for a moment.

I am glad that God can also be found in the stillness. Stillness is far from anything I've experienced in South Africa up until today. We are crazy busy all the time and there is noise – or sound- everywhere we go. Always. But after mass, I managed to find more moments of stillness and holiness in the rest of my Friday.

The first one came as I was walking back from the church to the manse. While I was making that familiar and frequent trip, I heard the faint cry of the mullah from the nearby Mosque. And as the prayers were cried out, I wanted to join in. Not to Allah – no definitely not. Instead, I wanted to have my prayers carried on the wind. A liturgy for Yahweh that sways throughout the tree branches, causing them to move. An afternoon filled with the sound of holiness and stillness. 

Also, I skipped youth celebration tonight. Yes, I am probably a terrible person because of that. But as I sat in the house – for once completely void of any sound or moment – I felt real peace. Peace that could be anything else but holiness. Finally, a stillness that felt so much like God.

It didn't last very long. As I sit here writing, I can hear the TV from our neighbors on the other side of the Manse. Yet, it was there. And I definitely wouldn't trade these moments of holiness that I've found today for much else.

Novemeber 5th

Today we saw Christmas decorations in the mall. I mean, full out tree and everything.

It's November 5th people.

It was really depressing. I guess that's what I get for being at the mall.

Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your adverbs here

Teaching English is something I never thought I knew how to do. And today it definitely felt like I had no clue what I was trying to accomplish.

Tuesdays are the days in which I lead the ESL class for the group of eager Congolese students who are all older than me. Christine Lindell-Detweiler teaches the Thursday class and although she hasn't had any prior ESL experience, she is awesome at it. It's not fair. I just graduated with an English degree (basically) so the English language and I should be tight. Nope.

Today presented itself with several challenges. The first arrived with the first students. As Connie and I were waiting for everyone to arrive, two boys walked into the room asking if we knew how to speak French. After apologizing (again) for not knowing any other language than English, we asked them if they were here for the English class. Yes, they were. There is nothing wrong with new students, but the challenge came from the fact that their English was far behind the rest of my students (that and I think the boys are really intimidated).

The second challenge came when I was supposed to teach vocabulary used when you go shopping. How hard can that be, right? Well, usually we follow a book but today we were just winging it. It was also problematic since I am not from South Africa. I have no idea what the terms are for everything. Yikes. I learn things today in class, which is good, but I hope that everyone else did. I am pretty sure that the little boys did not.

It felt as if class was a little chaotic.

Oh man, why am I not cool enough to be a teacher?



(side note: my title of this blog as nothing to do with anything really – minus the fact that Grammar Rock is pretty much amazing).

Magical Hilton

"I love going to Hilton. It's such a magical place – good things always happen!"

After a long weekend, Phil and Christine told us on Sunday evening that they were going to take us out for coffee in the morning. But it turned out that if by coffee they meant by going to their house, talking over cups of tea, coffee, and scones(!), eating lunch with them, practicing driving, playing ultimate Frisbee with Nathan, Annika, and Lydia (their kids), hanging out afterwards/playing their piano, eating supper with them and borrowing a ton of books and movies from them, then yes we were going for coffee.

Best. Day. Ever.

It's amazing how Phil and Christine always seem to know when we've had a long week/weekend and really need some time off. And it's amazing how leaving Pietermaritzburg bring with it such a feeling of relief – or rest, I am not even sure how to describe it. But I do believe that Connie's comment (quoted above) summed up the whole day.

Even if we had only stayed for the morning, the day still would've been incredible. Debriefing with the Detweiler's is really helpful – especially when I realize that all the things I am dealing with in the BCI community are not abnormal things. It's not always easy sharing things that I've been struggling with but afterward, it was like I just exhaled after awhile of holding my breath and walking on eggshells.

One element of the day included another driving lesson from Phil. After lunch, Connie and I headed out in our ghetto-fabulous Honda as Phil patiently instructed us, once again, how to drive shift. Actually, I am rather proud of myself. I only stalled out two or three times, didn't go on the wrong side of the road and actually shifted up to 3^rd gear. (Whoa. I know). I am not sure when I am going to gain enough confidence to drive in traffic in the city (the neighborhood that they live in is really chill – actually some parts of Hilton remind me of North Carolina). I might just have to jump right into it. We'll see.

But I will say one of the best parts (even though the entire day was good) was playing ultimate with the kids. I haven't played since Bluffton days and so it felt good to get back in to it. Yes please. I think that we might try and get a Frisbee and play sometime on the church property.

So now that our Sabbath day is official over, I feel as if I can face this upcoming week with a new sense of rest and anticipation. Phil and Christine, you are incredible people.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

Why I feel the need to blog right now instead of going to be is beyond me. I guess I feel a little bit obligated to report about my weekend here since I am always telling the people (well, you readers out there) that I dread the weekend. (Man, that's so sad, but definitely true to the bone).

I did manage to find some good this weekend, which is awesome since lately it seems I spend my entire weekend hating life. Yet, this weekend was still an emotional roller coaster in the sense that one moment I was perfectly fine while the next I definitely wanted to find a way to get away from BCI and maybe South Africa in general (but I can't be too sure since I am not always sure what is BCI and what is South African culture).

Here's basically what happened this weekend. The good and the bad and the ugly.

The Mission's Meeting:

Since I somehow ended up as a part of the mission's team here, I have to attend a lot of meetings. Hooray. So on Friday night Kyle and I found ourselves sitting in the closed bed of a truck, heading to a meeting in Pinetown, which is about 45 minutes away from Pietermaritzburg. We got completely lost and were rather car sick from the fumes and the hills by the time we got to the meeting. Also, we missed supper and for some reason they wouldn't let us eat while the meeting was going on (even though it was mostly watching Dvds). I still don't understand why since it was a carry in/pot luck type of thing. However, the good side of this story was that it was rather interesting – for the most part (until the end when they started talking about 2010 and handing out sports related tracks. Yippy). For the most part, it wasn't bad. It would've been great if they would've let us eaten dinner. Also, this thing went on forever. The PMB group actually left before it was over and still didn't back into town until 10:30.

Weekend noise:

I've discovered that sleeping on the weekends is kind of a joke. We also get woken up by the neighbors playing ridiculously loud African music or by some type of BCI event going on. This Saturday morning it was both. This weekend, BCI hosted a men's breakfast and a women's high tea. Since we females didn't have to go to anything on Saturday until tea time, we took the obvious route of trying to sleep in. It was basically worthless. At 7:30 LOUD MUSIC started coming from the men's breakfast tent. Oh my goodness I wanted to strange something with that happened – or happens as I should say. I try and take a nap on Sundays too. I am not sure why I do that since it never ever works out the way I plan. Noise, noise everywhere. Peace and quiet is hard to come by here.

The High Tea:

The tea time was ok. Actually Gabby, Connie, and I ended up at a table with only two other girls. And ironically we drank our own tea we brought from the manse and ate the things that we brought with us. So, that was a little disappointing. But the nearby tables felt a little sorry for us so gave us some of their yummy food. It was amazing. That's a good part about living on the church's property. People like to give us their leftover food after events. It's amazing – sometimes really random (like after the Kids camp we got like a 4 gallon thing of this nasty juice which everyone hates except for Tim), but it's still nice nevertheless. Okay, so I guess that I should explain that this tea wasn't just a tea. No, BCI likes all their events to be exactly like church services. So Pastor Nina spoke during the tea and then there was an alter call. And this time, Pastor Nina deliberately called Gabby, Connie and myself up to the front to pray for us. It was a little nerve racking since I am not sure if they expected us to get "slain in the spirit" (which didn't happen) or not. So it's a little bit awkward. Actually, what Pastor Nina prayed over me has stuck in my mind all weekend. I don't even remember exactly what she said but it kept bringing back to the comment Darrell left on a previous blog. That this year isn't necessarily about anything specific, but maybe it's all about this process of becoming. Something to think about at least…

Clean up crew:

As we anticipated, we RJers had to tear down everything – basically by ourselves. After we hauled all the chairs back into the church, we started setting them up only to find out (close to when we were about finished) that the chairs with the brown legs belonged in the sanctuary while the chairs with the grey legs were to go in the children's church. Okay these chairs are the same type of chairs. The only thing different is the color of the legs and you can barely tell. Oh man, we were all so pissed off at that point and completely exhausted. I could've thrown a chair at someone.

All day Church:

Since we got recruited into doing this ridiculous skit for the love meal last week, we had to perform it for the entire church. This meant going to all three services. Oh. My. Gosh. To make things even more long and drawn out, we had to go to the leader's meeting, which was another 2 hours of church relatedness today. (Actually the meeting wasn't all bad since I brought my notebook and worked on my novella the whole time. Ha. Ha). I am very ready for break though. But then I realize that that won't happen until July 2010. Actually, the best part of church today happened during the second service. The 10:00 service is the Zulu service and so in addition to the same songs sung at the 8:00 service, some Zulu ones are incorporated as well. Being very North America, it is very challenging to sing these songs. However, today one of the Zulu songs was the chorus to "We praise Thee O God." (The chorus is the part that goes "Halleluiah, thine the glory, etc.) The melody was a little bit different (so much in fact that it wasn't until the second time around that I noticed what song we were singing) but it was awesome. Worshiping together today in Zulu and in English was absolutely beautiful. I am not sure even how to describe it, besides the obvious: that God was in that place and moment in time.

Suppertime:

I've mentioned before that suppertime is probably some of my favorite times here. So much in fact that I feel like when I get back and people ask me what I did in Africa, I'll say "ate food." Awesome. This weekend has been true to this statement. After Saturday's long day of events and clean up and today's busy church schedule, we found ourselves crashing in our house with heaping helpings of pizza (Saturday) or baked mac and cheese (tonight) accompanied with exhaustion and general sense of relief that the day is over and done. Alleluia

 

Well, I managed to write a book. Thanks to all you champs who made it this far. Next time, I'll try to keep it short.

Ha. Okay.