Hats & Glasses Camp

I am back from camp and am excited to share the adventure with you.  (This one is a little long... my apologies, but there is a lot I want to share.)  For those of you who hadn’t read my last post, we took 25 students from Khayamandi, ages 15-21 on a 3-day camp about 4 hours Northwest of Cape Town on the Atlantic coast.  I helped as one of the leaders/staff.  We were supposed to take 1 big bus for the 30 of us, but the bus broke down so they arrived with two smaller 15 passenger busses.  We crammed everything in and took off for the adventure.  The students were full of life and throughout at least 1/2 of the trip they sang beautiful worship songs in the bus.  I was amazed at how many American songs they knew by heart.  The kids are very loud.  It is part of their culture.  They talk loud, sing loud, laugh loud.  They are full of energy and I could feel the excitement as we drove to the coast.   I don’t think the kids realized we were taking them to the coast, but it was awesome to see their smiles and their excited faces when we finally pulled up and saw the amazing shore line with huge waves crashing over.  Everyone clapped and hooted.  It was awesome.

From the very beginning I was absolutely amazed at the kids spirit, their good sportsmanship and their willingness to engage in our activities without any negotiations or complaints.   The first night we had a true Afrikaans Braii and the kids cooked their own meat outside.  We surprised them before they could eat, by tying one of their arms tightly behind their back and the other arm secured with bamboo out straight so they couldn’t bend their arm.  The purpose of this was to see if they would engage in a team effort to feed each other.  Immediately they were scooping the food for each others plates, pouring each others drinks and laughing the whole time.   I painfully watched all the kids try to feed each other, with ketchup running down their faces or drinks spilling down their shirts.  It was hilarious.  I walked around and ate my food with free hands smiling.

After their dinner, we had a session and then told them to go get some warmer clothes on.  I heard no complaints, only enthused spirits and questioning eyes.  They returned promptly and at 11:30pm the staff split them into their teams, gave them each a couple of 2 x 4’s and some bamboo sticks to carry.  We then walked them 1.5 hours by moonlight only on a cliff trail into the unknown.   They were in good spirits, and again singing more worship songs.  I was one of the sweepers at the back and was quite behind the group as I waited for their bathroom breaks.  After an hour & a half of walking we all stopped and each group was told that we were going to have some prayer time for our safety.  (The kids still didn’t know why they were carrying the wood.)  The kids immediately broke into little groups with their arms around each other and prayed out loud.  As I stood their in the moonlight watching I couldn’t believe how passionate they were about prayer.  I ended up in a group prayer with my team and although most prayed in Xhosa I could understand the meaning and the intensity.  During my prayer some of the kids acknowledged what I was saying with a “Yes Lord” or other comments.  I was a little taken back as I am not used to praying out loud.... nor having anyone really appreciate what I had to say.

After some prayer we explained what was going to happen.  In each team we picked out one person to be blind, one person without arms, one person without legs and one who was mute.  I tied my team up and blind folded them, which left only left 2-3 people without ailments.  Their mission was to get the teammate with no legs back to camp without ever once touching the ground.  We gave them rope and told them that they could build whatever needed to carry their team mate. (Our thoughts were they would build a stretcher.)  Of course the person without arms couldn’t help much, nor could the person without sight - and that person would need to be led all the way back by someone.   My team surprised me with a very quick decision not to build anything.  As I was watching the other teams discuss options my team was way ahead already carrying their 2 x 4’s and bamboo with the girl on one of their backs.  I literally had to run to catch up with them after I realized they were gone.   So for the next 2.5 hours the 2-3 people without ailments took turns carrying the girl or putting the 2x4’s on their shoulders and having the girl sit on top of the wood.  Not ONCE did I hear any of my team complain.  They were hurting and struggling and the blind girl was tripping and every once in a while the girl without arms would say “Sis Katie, can you please push back?”  and I would push back her hoody that was slipping in her eyes.   

I could do nothing but walk with them, watch their pain, and listen to their conversations.  They never once cheated.  The girl never once touched the ground.   I felt my shoulders tense as I was so nervous they were all going to fall on this rocky road.  I somehow felt their pain and felt guilt.  But, they never asked me to help.  I had the only torch (flashlight) and was desperately trying to point light in everyones directions, but the guys were much faster and the blind one was slower so I couldn’t get to everyone.  I thought about my own 19 year old nephew and his American friends and how much they would be complaining or cheating or be in a bad mood about the adventure.  These kids were determined and used amazing team work during each transition of the girl and communicated with one another.  I was so impressed.  I thought about how we couldn’t get away with something like this in America - we would need forms filled out and waivers signed,  medical releases and God forbid someone was to get hurt they probably would try to sue.   There was none of that.   I heard that one of the other teams, the girl fell off the stretcher when it collapsed.  I never heard her complain that night or the next day.   These kids had patience and perseverance like I’ve never seen.   I was astonished and thankful to witness it.

My team arrived back at camp around 3:45a.m.  They were the first team.  Exhausted they fell onto the grass and didn’t say much but we all exchanged huge smiles!  Their reward for getting first place was to get to bed earlier.  We had some coffee, blew our noses and they went to bed.  I realized my roommate was on another team and had my cabin key.  Crap.  I think I got to bed around 4:30a.m or so.   The next morning after breakfast we had a debriefing session about how each one of them felt.  Again, not a single complaint.  I couldn’t believe it.

The 3 days were packed full of sessions, meals and activities.  There were laughter, tears and serious moments.  I was impressed with the kids - they paid attention, they participated, they were on time and they listened to whatever instruction was given to them.  They weren’t out of control like normal American teenagers.  They were disciplined, respectful, encouraging and happy.  When they did have some free time they were dancing, kicking a soccer ball or telling stories.  I spent most of the time in the kitchen preparing meals, cooking, serving and cleaning up.  It was an awesome feeling.  I enjoyed every minute of it.  On the second night I was in charge of the entire dinner for 30 people.  I was frantically in the kitchen with various pots and pans going at once.  I was chopping onions, shredding cheese, stirring that, frying this, boiling, baking...etc, etc.  It was fun - and I don’t even enjoy cooking.  For 3 days I prepared breakfast, lunch, dinner, juice, coffee and snacks.  And when I was done cleaning I would join them in their sessions and it always seemed although I was late, that I was needed at that very moment to give an example or answer a difficult question.  I was the younger staff that could answer the tough ones and relate more to their situations.  I knew God was using me every minute of that trip and I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

During the dating session one of the kids asked what was proper in regards to boundaries and they asked if God was okay with kissing.  To give you a little back-ground info, the Khayamandi culture is to have sex at a very young age.  It is expected and it is the way they think they are loved.  They don’t have the word “like” in their vocabulary.  Only “love”.  So the minute you are dating they tell each other they “love” them and they are engaging in sex.  It is very sad.   The kids at the camp were all believers or seekers.  They realize that God wants a better life for them and that if you read the Bible it states very clearly that God wants us to be pure and not engage in sexual immorality.  They all obviously struggle with this, since it is a very normal part of their culture, (like witchcraft and other ancestor issues.)  So here they are asking ME about purity.  I am far but pure.  I have so many regrets in my own life that I thought to myself “How in the world can I help these kids?”  So I was honest.  I told them that I struggle in some areas as well... that I have learned that I need to set my own boundaries and know my limits.  I answered their kissing question in logical sequence.  I told them that a simple kiss could be innocent and pure with the right intentions but if you weren’t with the right person and didn’t communicate about your boundaries that it could turn evil.  A simple smooch could turn into a passionate kiss.  A passionate kiss could turn into some light touching.  Light touching to heavy touching.  That could lead to clothes coming off, which leads to worse things.  At some point you have no will power and then have regrets.   They all seemed to understand this example and realize how a simple kiss could not be so innocent.   I made some suggestions and I basically told them what I wanted of myself, what I wished I could be.  I told them what I knew God wanted in all of us.   Of course I didn’t dish out all of my issues, but the point was that our God is a forgiving God and still loves us no matter how many times we mess up.  No matter how much we beat ourselves up for our mistakes and think that we don’t deserve his love, He loves us unconditionally.  He picks us up when we fall, brushes the mud off of us and still loves us.   I am not sure if my stories helped them, but from the looks of their expressions, the nods of their heads, the whispers in Xhosa, I think that they understood.   

The main leader Mbongeni gave a perfect illustration to summarize and wrap up the dating session.  He held out an apple and explained that he was a on a very long journey and he had the most precious gift to give his friend at the end of the journey.  He walked around the circle and said “Oh, well you look nice and trusting, maybe I will give you just a small bite of my apple.” and the girl bit a small bite.  Then he went to the next one and said “Oh you are cute, you look hungry, you deserve some apple, just take a small bite.”  and she bit.  He did this with a few more girls and they all took chunks out of his apple, some big, some small.   When he got to the end to the person he was supposed to give this most precious gift to - he had nothing left but a horrible looking apple core, with seeds showing and turning brown.  The gift wasn’t so appealing anymore.  It wasn’t whole.  It was taken.  It was a mess.  The illustration was to point out that we give away our hearts, our confidence, our emotions, our trust, our bodies, our dignity WAY too often and by the time we find the right one for us... our soul mate, the one God had planned for us all along, we might not have any confidence left.  We have nothing left and feel that we have nothing to offer.  We feel ugly - both emotionally and physically.  Mentally we are drained and have nothing to give.   We don’t think we deserve love.  We blindly turn our backs on it and continue down a path of self destruction. 

I thought about my own life.  My own self destruction.  My own illustrated apple.  My apple is so down to the core that in fact, truthfully I am on my second apple.   I am ashamed of my apple.  I am ashamed of my second apple.  I am hoping that my second apple is a super GMO apple and has more life to it.   (That acronym is for all my nerdy friends.)   That session really impacted me.  I needed that session more than I realized and I was thankful to be part of it.  Maybe God will use my mistakes to impact someone.  Maybe just one person.  That would be enough.

But the best part of the camp is yet to be told.  There were 3 Americans who were here for a short-term missions trip to help with the camp.  The older couple were the parents of one of the staff who was on the Swaziland trip and then another lady who was part of their church.  The older couple were my parents age, which somehow made me feel more at home, so I quickly bonded with them and tried to help them as much as I could.  The other lady was maybe in her 40’s (?) I have no idea. She was married, with 2 kids and seemed to have it all together.   But what I quickly realized was the poor thing was so anxiety ridden, a complete control freak and easily agitated.  I felt horrible for her.  I didn’t realize how much only 1 month of “South African time” had affected and changed me.  Nothing is on time in this country.  You might have a detailed agenda with time slots, but trust me... they are not using it.  South African time is always off.  They don’t worry.  They don’t stress.  They might be 2-3 hours off agenda and no one cares.   For the stressed out, neurotic, control freak American going off schedule is a serious problem that inevitably will make someone in a bad mood.  This poor woman was in a constant stressed out stage.  She looked haggard.  None of the meals were on time.  None of the sessions were on time.  None of the activities were on time.  The meals were improvised on many occasions depending on the mood or what we decided to use.   We didn’t care about the menu that they made or the list of items that were supposed to be used at each slot.   Myself, being mainly in the kitchen, was impacted by this stressed out American.  Everything I seemed to do or suggest was wrong.  She knew better.  She corrected.  She needed control of something.   I saw this immediately and let her do her thing even when I secretly disagreed.  I just kindly said “okay.”  and would do it her way.   I felt horrible for her.   Here she was at this beautiful camp with underprivileged amazing children from Khayamandi and she was missing all the Joy.  She was letting every little detail upset her.  She couldn’t relax.  She was like the chick in “Eat, Pray, Love” that went to Italy and didn’t know what to do with herself.  Sadly I thought “Chill Woman”  and jokingly thought how much she needed a glass of wine.  What surprised me most when I said that to myself was that I DIDN’T need a glass of wine.  I never once in the 3 days felt like I needed a drink or a chill pill or something to relax me.  It was an awesome feeling.  

I recognized this only because sadly I saw part of myself in her.   I watched her almost in tears at times upset because we were off schedule and she didn’t know how to handle it.  As I cheerfully hummed around the kitchen happy to be in the exact place I was, she was busy giving orders and correcting everyone else in the kitchen.  She missed all the times when the kids would stand at the doorway smiling at me and say “Sis Katie, may I please have....?”  and she missed the times that I stood there watching them laugh, joke, play around, enjoy their meals and realize how much these kids appreciated every minute of this camp.  Every meal.  Every sunset.  Every word spoken or taught.  Every tear.  Every hug.   She was wrapped up in her stressed out, spoiled American life taking everything way too seriously and turning mole hills into mountains.    At that point I realized how much just one month had changed me.   I was that stressed out American.  I got wrapped up in the tiny details.  I missed all the Joy.  I must have drove all my friends nuts!  In South Africa if one is late to a meeting, the others don’t give them the evil eye or shake their heads or secretly have negative thoughts thinking “I was on time.  Why can’t you be?!”  In South Africa one shows up 15 minutes (or more) late to a meeting and people look up, smile a genuine smile and go back to the meeting.  They don't need to hear an excuse.  They don't talk to that late person afterwards and drill them for their reason of lateness or scold them.  They just accept it and are happy that the person was there with them.  It is such a different life.  I could really get used to this life.

So on the last day when we were finishing our last session, making up the sandwiches and snacks for the bus ride home suddenly a wrench was thrown in.  It was a beautiful day.  Everyone was in high spirits.  We had a final lunch outside on the steps and had some closing remarks.  The leaders were asked to share some closing remarks.  When it came to my turn I started off good and then suddenly out of no where got choked up and couldn’t talk.  I had some of the kids sincerely say “Awww...” and put their arms around me.  I didn’t know where it came from - but what I was trying to get out was that I was there to serve THEM and that I thought I probably ended up getting more out of it then they did.  I cried a bit and then got tough again and told them that although the other Americans were leaving that I was here for another 5 months and opened an invitation for any of them to come talk to me or find me at the learning center if they wanted a friend.   I got a few personal eye contacts of positive nods or “okays”.   But the best part was....after we were done with lunch -  the bus was late.   The Americans were freaking out.  I sat there with Mbgondeni and we talked and talked not even caring that the bus was 2 hours late.  I got to know him.  The neurotic, stressed-out control freak kept coming up interrupting us asking “Has anyone called? What are we going to do?  This is unacceptable!”  I asked Mbgondeni if No No had called the driver and he simply said “I don’t know.”  After about 2.5 hours No No decided to call and it turns out the busses hadn’t even left Stellenbosch yet.   They still had a 4 hour drive to come get us.    The Americans were speechless.   I sat there with my Khayamandi crew and giggled. I kicked around a soccer ball with them.  Not once did I care at all... and that really surprised me. 

So the kids were delighted and wanted to go swimming.  The Americans were upset and demanding that we didn’t let them swim and that they “wouldn’t be responsible for them.”   We were kicked out of our rooms, had no way to shower or clean up.  In the end the kids went swimming.  I was happy for them.  I went down with them to supervise hoping I wouldn’t have to jump into that cold water to get them.   They screamed, they laughed, they rolled in the sand, they jumped into the waves... they enjoyed every second of it.   The Americans stayed stressed out.   The kids had no way to shower or change, but they didn’t care.  They changed out in the open letting it all hang out.  They didn’t complain about the sand in their hair or the lack of facilities.  After a couple hours we got the remaining food back out from the boxes we had packed and threw together some sandwiches for dinner and used the remaining snacks that were meant for the bus ride home.  The kids were fine.  They played Domino’s, some slept on the ground, some played soccer and others just sat and talked.  We all watched the sunset together.   The busses finally arrived at 8:30pm,.....just 7.5 hours late.   We didn’t get back into Stellenbosch till 1:30am.  It was dangerous for the kids at that hour, so the bus driver had to drive through Khayamandi and drop each one off at their shack and find their bags in the trailer.   I had also missed my ride and it was too dangerous for my friend to come in to pick me up, or for me to stand outside waiting.  So I ended up going with the Americans to their hostel.  

At 2am as I finally laid down in bed I smiled thinking about everything.... I knew God was laughing up there as I was stuck sharing the bed of the neurotic, stressed-out, anxiety ridden, control freak who quickly took her sleeping pills and had no words to say to me but “Good Night.”   I laid there staring at the ceiling and then what I think I heard next was her grinding her poor teeth.  I chuckled and put my ear plugs in.   

Are you missing the Joy in everyday life? 

Confidence

Well I am glad to see I have some dedicated followers as I received many personal emails after my last entry about finding a new identity.  It seems I worried a few of you, so for that I apologize.  Thank you for those who shared such kind words with me.  Those emails did provide much needed encouragement.   So now I must share a positive reflection on something that I do have confidence about...... and that would be my DRIVING.  (Big smiley face)

The other day I decided that I had to check out the local McDonalds just to see if it tasted like America’s.  (Good excuse huh?)  I realized that I had mastered driving a manual car while I was eating my fast food with one hand, shifting with the other and trying to steer with my knee.  And guess what... I wasn’t stalling.  Miracles do happen!    I am not saying that was safe and I don’t recommend that... but I had to use this story to show you how much my driving has improved.  

So now I am enjoying driving my little car on the left side of the road, passing cars just for the fun of it.  I imagine myself as Charlize Theron in her Mini Cooper in the “Italian Job”.   Okay, maybe that is stretching a bit, but the point is that I have confidence.  It’s a nice feeling to have in at least one place right now.

On another good note I joined a nice local gym.  For those of you who are supporting me, no worries, this money is coming out of my own personal savings (like any other fun activity).  I realized how much I had missed exercising as my energy level decreased, my mood decreased and my immune system failed me as I got sick.  I somehow thought that being over here, I wouldn’t have to work out and I would be getting my exercise from building shacks, roads, etc.   What I didn’t realize is that the actual building doesn’t happen that often.  It happens only when sponsorship money comes in or groups from different countries come over on Mission Trips with money from their churches to buy the materials to build.   I also believed that somehow my diet would be different and that I would be eating very low fat foods or little of it.   I was WAY wrong on both accounts.  The food over here is delicious and I quickly became a fan of the South African Rusks that one eats with their coffee and tea.  (not so healthy).  

So with that being said, I joined a gym because I am not comfortable walking/running outside alone (and of course I promised my loved ones that I would be careful.)  The gym is very nice and has internet which is how I am keeping up with my emails and blogs.  I find it to be a great stress relief after a long day with the children.   For those of you who are NOT exercising on a regular basis I challenge each and everyone of you to make it part of your daily routine.  We are to treat our body’s as a temple for God.  We need to watch what we put into our bodies and how we mistreat them.  That means none of us should be overindulging in anything... food, sweets, alcohol, tobacco etc.  We also need to be careful what we listen to, what we watch and how it affects our actions.  The devil is quick to get us through the nasty media these days and makes us believe all of these things are okay and normal.  We have all lowered our standards terribly and it affects us negatively everyday.  If you start exercising I promise that you will have more energy, better focus, improved sleep, increased positive mood and over time you will lose weight.  The endorphins you get from exercising are a natural “happy pill” and this will improve your overall relationships with your friends, colleagues, children or spouses.   Start exercising!  Make it a priority.  

Okay, I’m off my soap box.  Can you tell I just got done working out?  

I’m off to camp tomorrow morning.  I will post about my experience this coming weekend upon my return.  Please pray that the children will have an open heart and mind for the sessions we have prepared for them.  We will be discussing very difficult topics like Ancestors, Dating, Trust, Forgiveness, God and the Bible.  Many of these kids have been hurt emotionally and physically.  There is a lot of abuse that happens in these townships so their hearts are hardened.  They have extreme difficulties with trust, forgiveness and even a belief that God exists.   I hope that as leaders God will provide us with the right words and answers to their tough questions.   Will they be open to my words when I have no idea what they have gone through and the pain they have endured?  I have experienced nothing like that in my life.  If anything I will be there to support the other leaders who have grown up in the townships, who speak Xhosa and understand every issue.   I also pray that God opens my own heart and that I may build relationships during this time that will be important for my remaining 5 months. 

Thank you for your prayers.

Finding a New Identity

Have you ever been asked what you are good at? I was asked that last week, and I didn’t have an answer. It was quite humbling.

I was asked that question by the Director of Kuyasa. She requested a meeting with me and started it with, “Tell me about yourself.” (Oh my goodness , where do I start?) She was trying to figure out my specialities, my experience, what I was good at, and how I could help their organization. She said “Do you teach?” No. “Do you have musical abilities?” No. “Do you have film experience?” No. “Web Design?” No. “Counseling?” No.” “Are you good at Math?” No. “Have you worked with children before?” No. “Do you speak Xhosa?” Definitely No. “Afrikaans?” No. She paused and then said “O.k....Well, tell me about your job. What did you do?” I shook my head and said, “Trust me.... my job won’t help me with anything here.” I tried to explain that I sold packaging. She wasn’t comprehending. She replied, “Ohhh, okay, you designed it? I said “No. I sold it.” I could tell she was grasping for anything and then she inquired about my specific job duties. Again, a difficult question, considering that the actual “selling” was a very small portion of my job. The administration, putting out fires & calming customers was the majority of the job. She finally said, “Okay, I’m not sure where to use you here. What are you good at?....” So I sat there in silence for awhile pondering, and suddenly trying to hold back tears I honestly replied, “I don’t know.”

I went to the back porch and looked out over the township at all the shacks and spoke out loud, “God, why am I here? How am I going to help?” It’s strange coming from a prior life where I felt confidence in my career and that I was doing a decent job. My skill-set, like anyone in the corporate world, was basically Communication, Muti-tasking and Problem solving. I didn’t enjoy what I was doing, but it was what I knew. I did this day in, day out, because I was comfortable at it. Comfortable in my own misery with a bit of confidence. I’m here now out of my comfort zone, a little home-sick, feeling helpless and feeling like I have nothing to offer. I don’t speak their language, I can’t control the children, I have none of their specialities. So I ask myself again, what am I good at? After I had answered “I don’t know” I realized just how much I had made my career my identity. If I didn’t have a career what was I? What an awful way to think.

Before my meeting with the director ended I found the courage to say “Look, I don’t know how I can help you. I know that I feel God wants me here right now and he will use me. I’m just not sure when and where. Tell me what needs to be done and I will do it.” I asked her to think about what she’s been wanting and didn’t have time to do. She perked right up and talked about needing an updated brochure for Kuyasa. So that night I stayed up very late and created the brochure. I had no clue what I was really doing, but I talked to the right people, got the right pictures, the right info and put it together. To my surprise, the Director really liked it and she’s hoping I can help her with some other material. After that conversation I was pulled into a meeting and asked if I could attend their Hats & Glasses (young adults: ages 16-21) team camp as one of the leaders. I have no idea where this camp is, but it’s apparently a 3 hour drive away and I’ll be leaving on Monday. I was told what to pack and given an agenda. I’m sure I’ll have some interesting stories to share.

Yesterday the Volunteer Coordinator was very busy getting ready with her team for their Swaziland Trip. The coordinator gave me her keys and asked if I could take over. So I was in charge and told all the volunteers that were showing up where to go, what grades they would cover and gave them all the necessities for class. It was a bit chaotic, but felt great. After my last class two of my grade 7 boys came up to my and asked if I could help them. They had most of the math problems wrong and although I tried to show them on the board during class, they weren’t listening. So I spent an extra 15 minutes showing them what they had done wrong and slowly worked through some difficult problems with them. I wrote some examples on a sheet of paper that they could keep and reference to later. They looked very happy and expressed their gratitude. I smiled realizing that I had actually helped someone. Amazing.

So the good news is I’m starting to feel a bit more helpful and needed. I might not have the specialties that they were hoping for but I show up early, work hard and am looking for any ways to help. God is my boss right now. I am working for free, out of Love. In return he is working on peeling my layers, tearing down my identity issues and creating a better Katie. By the end of the 6 months I’m sure I will be able to list a few things that I am good at... and they won’t be selling paper cups.

Everyday Life

I see that I have a few followers who have commented or sent me separate emails about my entries so far. I am happy to see that some people are actually reading this and that my words might help in some tiny way. Thank you for the support and I will do my best to keep the updates flowing. As a Thank you I will share a few light-hearted embarrassing stories so you don’t think I’m just one big emotional basket case with deep thoughts. I may be on another continent, but unfortunately it is the same Katie.

So, over the weekend I was in a parking lot trying to get out. I was trying to turn right. My brain automatically put me in the right lane waiting for the cars to go by. Next thing I knew this dumb white vehicle had stopped moving and was in my way. I was talking to myself saying “Hurry up buddy, I don’t have all day...” and hoping somehow that he would hear me. I sat there.... He sat there.... He had mean, slanted eyes and a dirty facial expression. I could feel his hostility. I couldn't understand why he was mad at me. Then I finally realized he was trying to turn in to the parking lot I was leaving, but the guy behind me was correctly in the left lane beside me and I was blocking the right side. I looked all around suddenly in a panic as I created a little Katie traffic jam. I gave the “So very sorry” hand wave and tried to quickly move. Of course I stalled. The guy was shaking his head and using bad words. I should have a bumper sticker on my windshield that says, “Blonde American”. It is amazing how difficult it is to change our habits.

The same thing applies to the grocery stores. I was happily shopping and walking down the right side of the aisle with my little buggy. I was not getting a happy impression from anyone in the store either and the first thought was “Man this country is rude.” Even the little kids were not paying attention, walking into me and suddenly looking up to see what big thing they ran into. Then I had the “Ahhh Ha” moment and got on the correct side of the aisle. I saw more smiles after that. It made me laugh again. I laugh out loud so much here (by myself.) Maybe that bumper sticker should read, “Crazy Blonde American”.

The first time I pulled up to the gas station I parked, was pulling up on the brake, looking down and about to get out when this dude was immediately in my space and at my window. I figured “Crap. I’m already getting mugged. Unbelievable.” I was quickly trying to think about my next move, but he did not say anything and he was just staring at me. Really close. I sat there speechless for a few seconds and timidly rolled my window down a tiny crack and said “Excuse me?” and he said “What?” and I said “Huh?” I think I shook my head confused and then I saw his big white pearly smile and he said “Sista, how much?” I collected my cool thoughts and quickly said “300 Rand” - not having a clue how much it cost to fill my little car up. My heart beat relaxed, I laughed again and calmed down, feeling horrible that I had wrongfully judged this black African who was merely excellent at customer service and was probably taught to get to the customer quick before they change their mind. He might have been the MVP petrol attendant for all I knew. The best part of the story is after I paid (and was so glad to get out of there), I stalled yet again and then started rolling back and almost hit the guy behind me. Mr. MVP was still laughing.

Everywhere you go here you are expected to tip the parking attendants. You can’t park anywhere without someone approaching you. They are supposed to be wearing a vest, but some don’t. That part made me a little nervous at first as well. It is customary to tip them anywhere from 1-5 Rand (depending on length of stay) as a non-verbal agreement that they will watch your car.(not really) They are in every possible place that a vehicle could park. At first I was a little annoyed, but I don’t mind anymore and feel good that I am helping feed their families and it is an honest job. It is the governments way to create jobs, which is the same reason for the gas attendants. I really can’t imagine these poor people in the middle of summer stuck outside on the pavement for 8+ hours. Makes you appreciate your own job. Oh wait.... I don’t have one.

It is also still customary here for the white Afrikaans to have a black maid. There are no white maids, only black. When I first learned of this I was in shock and felt that it was so racially wrong. I figured that this sort of culture would have ended a decade ago, but apparently it hasn’t. It is another way to create jobs for the less fortunate who have limited education. From what I understand the older black woman feel honored and it is a privileged high paying career for their communities. The “Mamas” cook all the meals, clean the house, do the laundry, wash the dishes and might spend more time with the kids vs. their parents. A lot of families take their Mama’s on vacations with them. It is a good job for them and according to the white people it is their way to help out. I asked what the Mama’s get paid and I was shocked to know how little they are paid a day and consider it a good income. I wasn’t sure if I should voice my opinion on the matter with these White Afrikaans or keep quiet. I asked a few more questions in regards to the history, etc, and then I shut up. I don’t know enough to have a fair opinion. What does an American know who lives in a complete different world? Who am I to judge? From what my new friends tell me some of the younger black generation finds it insulting and don’t have the same work ethics as the older generation does. This younger generation wasn’t old enough to remember the years of separation and Apartheid, whereas it has always been part of the older Mama’s culture and they are okay with it. And.... that is all I have to say about that.

On a language note, I have learned to change my accent when asking for water. I was getting a lot of “Sorry?” responses with a slightly turned head. My American Michigan accent of “What’r” doesn’t seem to translate very well. I need to take on more of a British“Wooter” accent. Bai Danki is my “Thank you very much” which I quickly learned. I am starting to catch onto other words, but then can’t remember how to say them again. My throat hurts from trying to practice the flemy throat sounds in the Afrikaans language or the multiple clicks of Xhosa. Maybe that is why I’m sick right now with a horrible cold, sore throat and heavy cough. I think my immune system is just down with the new climate, new germs and many children breathing on me with snot running down their little cold noses.

Ahhh the wonderful Joys of serving!

Zimbabwe Video

Not sure if the link worked that I attached before in the last post. Here is the video that we made for CBAP.

Hope it works. Let me know what you think.

http://www.vimeo.com/14870109

Zimbabwe Trip - Morgenster

Our trip to Zimbabwe was successful. It was a very long two day journey, with 5 of us driving in a little Honda Jazz (small car). We were quite packed with our food supplies, working materials, and food donations that we brought with us. Crossing the border took many hours with seriously long lines, but thankfully, other than missing a kids projecting vomit on me, it was uneventful and we made it through without any issues. I recommend carrying a book with you if you attempt to get a visitors Visa in Zimbabwe.

http://vimeo.com/14870109

Our destination was Morgenster, which was founded in 1891 and still remains today as a well known Mission Base. There have been about 3-4 generations of the Murray Family who were born and raised here and continue work at the mission base. It is quite famous for its “Henry Murray School for the Deaf”, but also has about 10 other programs, like a hospital, Theology School, etc. The ladies are never allowed to wear anything but skirts, which of course I didn’t bring, so Mrs. Murray gave me a few skirts and some wraps to put over my shorts and pants while I was there. I reacted nice and calm, (even though I felt like an idiot and was totally embarrassed), while the 4 guys in the group held their best poker faces, trying not to laugh. I gladly put on a skirt, did a little twirl and we all had a good chuckle.

At Morgenster the students all wear uniforms. There is no internet, limited electricity and very little water. During our stay we filled the buckets of (cold) water to boil for drinking, shower with, flush toilets, brush our teeth or cook. It felt like “Little House on the Prairie” with our candles and was thankful that someone remembered a flashlight. The church service was amazing although I didn’t understand one word. Thankfully Mrs. Murray was handing me notes about what was being discussed. The church welcomes and urges the congregation for spontaneous singing when they feel prompted from the spirit. The pastor would be talking then suddenly stop to answer a raised hand. What I understood was, “Great, come on up!”, which was followed by one or many ladies walking to the front to sing these absolutely BEAUTIFUL songs together with no instruments and only their voices. It is a memory I will cherish. The pastor attempted to get someone in our group to come up to sing. Thankfully they didn’t force me (as the only Lady in our group) and I kindly declined. I would have had to hand out ear plugs first.

Our goal of the trip was to support the Murray family with whatever service projects they needed. We spent two days in a food pantry of one of the oldest houses, scraping the paint, filling in the holes, priming and painting. What we hadn’t planned for was the other things we ended up helping with which ended up being the coolest part of the trip. We met with one of the groups: CBAP (Community Based Aids Program) and discussed how STC (Serve the City) could partner with them to help with projects. One topic we discussed was a summer camp for around 150 orphans whose parents have all died due to AIDS. Sadly, after many years, their on-going sponsorship for this annual camp has pulled out so they need financial assistance or they would have to cancel camp. We also discussed immediate needs which was creating a web site, making a sponsorship promotional video and starting a monthly newsletter - all efforts would help get CBAP’s name out there to other parts of Africa. The goal would be for CBAP to receive more financial assistance to purchase food, medical equipment, medicine, text books, school uniforms, etc. During our remaining 2 days at Morgenster we drove to the many rural schools outside of the community to interview and film the headmasters, teachers, volunteers and students. The needs were much greater then we assumed and capturing them on film was long overdue. Miraculously Walter (our gifted film guy) pulled together a 10 minute promotional video and was able to deliver before we left. After he posts it on the web I will post a link on my blog. It is very cool.

When we interviewed some of the patients who had AIDS they were thinking we had the financial resources to purchase this medical equipment they needed, or with the volunteers, sewing machines to help sew school uniforms for the children. Our response to them was that we unfortunately didn’t, however our prayers would be that the video we created would get into the correct hands and that God would help us connect the dots so they would receive the items they needed. The summer camp for the Orphans would cost $2,500 annually. On our drive home, we received a phone call that a sponsorship for $2,500 was received because of our efforts. Unbelievable! That made us all smile and confirm that God uses whatever talents (big or small) we have to help his people... in this case it was video making. My $300 trip cost was well worth what CBAP will hopefully continue to receive because of our visit. One can only imagine.

I am grateful for what I am already learning here in Africa. It is not necessarily about what I am actually doing, but about the people I am meeting, the relationships I am building, and how it will change me. The question is what will I do with this new Katie? I am learning about the world and realizing how spoiled we are in America without ever realizing it. We take so much for granted. From the minute I arrived in Africa I have been out of my comfort zone, both mentally and physically. I went from a safe and friendly environment to a broken and dangerous world with hunger, disease, sickness, rape and crime. In America, we may complain and feel depressed claiming our lives are so difficult, when in reality people would do anything to have 1 day in our easy lives. We want more and more and think that material things will make us feel better. We get upset when we don’t get the promotion or raise we think we deserve. We have so little love for one another. We are selfish and lacking in community and relationships. We put our careers above our families. It is all about ourselves, how much money we can make and how far we will move up in our own little world. The more success we achieve the less time we seem to have to love one another and care for others. We put ourselves first and become more prejudice and judging. It seems to be a vicious cycle which enables more selfishness. God wants us to Love one another. Love our neighbors.

Of course these are only my thoughts and there will be no way to explain any of this to my family or friends. What is changing in my heart cannot be described or grasped, even with all the conversations or pictures I post. People need to see it themselves and I highly recommend short term mission trips (anywhere) to get perspective of the life outside of your home. A one week trip has the ability to re-boot ones heart. It is amazing to see how little everyone here in Africa has and how much Faith they have in God. It makes me ashamed and question my own Faith level. They are so happy and always praising the blessings they receive. They don’t seem to take anything for granted and thrive off of community time together. In Zimbabwe we were driving down the road and so many people were just sitting under trees in the shade doing absolutely nothing but hanging out with each other. They have nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, no to-do lists to cross off. They eat off the land and have next to nothing in their little huts, but each other. As the economy gets bad in the U.S. everyone freaks out about their stocks and savings plans and seem to sink into a slight depression. Our depressing little lives with unlimited electricity, hot water, vehicles, multiple 40” flat screen, I-pods, blackberry’s, internet, smart phones, more food than we can eat before it goes bad...blah, blah, blah.

Doesn’t seem so bad now does it? Spread the love my friends.

Off to Zimbabwe

It is windy, raining and cold right now here in Stellenbosch. The Western Capes winter season is different then all other parts of South Africa. Because of the Indian Ocean and mountains the weather is very wet and cold in the winter. Apparently other locations of South Africa have a wet summer and dry winter. I’m only concerned about the weather right now as we are serving this afternoon in the township of Inkinini. A group of about 30 students from Stellenbosch University are joining us to help. I hope the rain doesn’t scare off the students. We will have 5 different groups tonight. 2 groups will fix steps with new cement and also will nail up some drywall into a couple of shacks for the cold weather. The other groups will work with the women and children.

For an update on my local activities, I went to my first South African church on Sunday and it was wonderful that the songs and service were in English. I was very surprised. The pastor spent a lot of time talking about the Evil spirit that is still holding the separation around the city. Stellenbosch is the birthplace for Apartheid and although it's been many years since the fall of Apartheid, sadly the separation still exists and probably always will. Blacks still don't hang with whites, etc. Unfortunately the coloreds are getting the raw end of the deal because they are not white enough to be accepted into the white communities and they are not black enough to get the benefits of being black. Many feel here that the coloreds will actually be the bridge to bring blacks and whites together.

The church that I attended focused on bringing all races together. At the end of the sermon we prayed and the pastor had us all hold hands - everyone in the church... every row and it was so obvious because the middle rows were all white, and then the side rows and back of church were blacks or coloreds. The pastor walked up and down the aisles with his microphone and made us all move around to grab hands and unite the entire church. He prayed with such Passion that the Evil spirits that were keeping the separation upon the town would be abolished. It was such an amazing prayer and very touching. The ladies there prayed with such conviction. They were praying out loud and repeating everything the pastor was praying and it was almost spooky at some points because I didn't know if they were all talking in tongues or not, but then I realized it was just in their native languages that I couldn’t understand. It was very emotional.

My second week in Kuyasa has been going much better. Some of the children were friendlier and wanted to know more about America and me. Near the end of my 7^th grade science class when I was asking if the students had any more questions, one boy asked if I could show him where I lived. I drew the outline of the U.S on the board and showed them Michigan. I was happy to explain that from the world map you could see Michigan because of the Great Lakes. Next, they started asking if I knew Beyonce and some different Hollywood actors. It was so funny. They were very serious. They wanted to know where California, New York, DC and some other places were. Then they smiled and said “Thank you Sis Katie”. I think the students only warm up to the volunteers that they know will be there longer. There are so many volunteer tutors from the university that want to get their “check mark” of volunteering and the kids have little respect for them and sadly treat them poorly. They don’t like people coming in and out of their lives. I am anxious to earn their respect and try my hardest to learn all of their challenging names.

The sad part is there is a huge civil strike going on right now against the government for more wages. I wonder if it has hit CNN news yet. (I don’t have a TV or radio where I’m living.) All of the teachers, doctors, and other civil workers are striking and so there is no school right now. The children are so bored all day and full of so much energy when we get them that it has been difficult to control them. Normally they would be in their township schools all day and we get them for the after school programs. I just heard that the petro workers (gas) might be striking next. The infrastructure is not set up to be able to pump gas on our own. It is full service everywhere so you stay in your car and give them the Rands. If everyone strikes then we won’t be able to get gas. It would be a major problem for everyone as the public transportation is horrible and unsafe and they would be striking as well. Please pray that the strike ends soon – for the children’s sake.

On a good note, I am improving driving my manual vehicle now and not stalling near as much. The hills are still a bit tricky, but thank the good Lord (and your prayers) I have not bumped into anyone yet. Surprisingly the opposite side of the road doesn’t feel weird at all anymore. I can only imagine how the reverse culture shock will be for me. (Look out Northern Michigan!) Actually, I now am more afraid of running someone over as a huge part of South Africans walk everywhere and are on the shoulders of the roads. Driving at night still overwhelms me as the people blend into the darkness. I’ve heard of many people being run over and killed. I am trying to be in by 6:00pm when the sun begins to set for driving safety purposes, but mainly for security and safety purposes in general. From what I have been told, most of the crime happens after sun set.

Tomorrow we are leaving for our Zimbabwe trip. We will be staying in Morgenster (which means “Morning Star” in Dutch). It is a mission base. The town has no hot water and only electricity for 3-4 hours a day. We will be there for 5 days staying at their base, and traveling the other 4 days. We just finished with our planning and budgeting meeting. We are very limited on packing space as we need to bring sleeping bags and food, so each of us are only allowed our back-pack. We are going to see what the needs are for the base and our team will help them in serving projects while we are there.

Please pray for the safety of our group on this trip. Zimbabwe is a Malaria area, so we will be using lots of bug spray. More to come after my trip…