from Cason
I visited the Port Edward Primary School with my friend Jonathon who is in grade four. It is the school where I will attend when we move. School starts at 7:30am and they wear uniforms like at my former school, Landmark. The uniform is brown shorts and white button up shirts. They also have brown sweaters.
There were about 15 people in the class I visited. The first thing that we did was say the Lord’s Prayer. The teacher asked me to stand and tell the class my name, where I was from and what it is like back home. The classes I attended were math, science, Zulu and Afrikaans. I think I will do fine in math and science but learning two new languages freaks me out.
They have breaks in between classes and for lunch I had something like chicken pot pie. We ate on the soccer field and you can see the ocean from there. During lunch the boys talked about rugby and the girls next to me talked about horses and ponies. Some things are the same as America.
After school I went to rugby practice with Jonathon. I don’t know anything about rugby but I better learn since it is so popular here.
I would really like to spend the day at the tide pools and the beach but I don’t think mom and dad will let me skip school!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Another Experience
from Elliott
We often wonder when we are in South Africa who God will place in our path - those people that will become a part of our story. Sometimes it is an experience not a person that informs our understanding. Well as we headed away from Johannesburg a couple of days ago on our way to KwaZulu Natal we met a man name Reginald; a tall man speaking quite proper English with authority. Not just any man though he wore a well pressed uniform of the South African Police.
You don’t often see many police in South Africa although that is not a statement of demand for more are needed. Our friend Reginald was manning a radar post well hidden under some trees and I had been caught going 79 in a 60 zone. Before you make a judgement, that is Km per hour not miles! The procedure was very similar to the US – license, papers, etc. But it became a bit more complex when he wanted to hear the story of our situation. What were we doing here, where had we been and what was my employment?
After reviewing my passport and license, he asked where I worked. I told him Atlanta First United Methodist wondering at first whether that would be bad PR for other local churches for me to be pulled over for speeding. He wondered where Atlanta was in South Africa but was perhaps more confused when I said it was in the US. He then said he would write down that I was a Pastor. I did not argue in hopes that it may be to my benefit.
When he looked at my driver’s license he noted with a smile that it had been my birthday earlier in the week. He said, “You are now 40” Not certain whether this was a test, I corrected him, gently of course. “No, 50” “No, you were born in 1960, which makes you 40” I felt it best not argue at this point but instead accept the compliment. It did make me wonder if math was not his strong suit, how fast was I really going and how would he calculate the fine.
When he came back to the car and handed me the paperwork, he commented, ‘Don’t worry Pastor the fine won’t be much. 250 Rand” I hope I did not look too excited – that is only about $32.00!
Well at least I can check that off the list of authentic South African experiences! But what was God trying to say with that one?
We often wonder when we are in South Africa who God will place in our path - those people that will become a part of our story. Sometimes it is an experience not a person that informs our understanding. Well as we headed away from Johannesburg a couple of days ago on our way to KwaZulu Natal we met a man name Reginald; a tall man speaking quite proper English with authority. Not just any man though he wore a well pressed uniform of the South African Police.
You don’t often see many police in South Africa although that is not a statement of demand for more are needed. Our friend Reginald was manning a radar post well hidden under some trees and I had been caught going 79 in a 60 zone. Before you make a judgement, that is Km per hour not miles! The procedure was very similar to the US – license, papers, etc. But it became a bit more complex when he wanted to hear the story of our situation. What were we doing here, where had we been and what was my employment?
After reviewing my passport and license, he asked where I worked. I told him Atlanta First United Methodist wondering at first whether that would be bad PR for other local churches for me to be pulled over for speeding. He wondered where Atlanta was in South Africa but was perhaps more confused when I said it was in the US. He then said he would write down that I was a Pastor. I did not argue in hopes that it may be to my benefit.
When he looked at my driver’s license he noted with a smile that it had been my birthday earlier in the week. He said, “You are now 40” Not certain whether this was a test, I corrected him, gently of course. “No, 50” “No, you were born in 1960, which makes you 40” I felt it best not argue at this point but instead accept the compliment. It did make me wonder if math was not his strong suit, how fast was I really going and how would he calculate the fine.
When he came back to the car and handed me the paperwork, he commented, ‘Don’t worry Pastor the fine won’t be much. 250 Rand” I hope I did not look too excited – that is only about $32.00!
Well at least I can check that off the list of authentic South African experiences! But what was God trying to say with that one?
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