Learning to Walk...Again

from Elliott

I have found that I have needed to learn to walk again. I was following Thezelwa from the garden back to the Pre School the other day and I noticed her jump in the air and pick up the pace for another 20 feet. I figured out why when she exclaimed, “inyoka!” She had walked past the chicken coop and a snake (inyoka) was sunning itself on a rock. It scurried away before I could get a look but the next day the familiar grayish brown of the Black Mamba was slithering by in the same spot. 

There are many places where we walk through tall grass or amongst the rocks. In the warm weather the snakes are more active and could be anywhere. The species vary – not all are poisonous and even some of the poisonous ones are not very aggressive. But then there are those that are poisonous and very aggressive and they can be found in exactly the same places as those that are not.

A couple of weeks ago we hosted a mobile medical clinic and a patient waiting to be seen noticed that about 100 feet from our Training Center there was a Guava tree with ripe fruit just in front of two large rocks. It was surrounded by tall grass and most of our staff had heard stories that a very large Mamba lived in the rocks but no one had told the visitor. The temptation of the ripe guava was too great and he went into the grass. Once there, he noticed just in time a very large Black Mamba just at the base of the tree. Out he came as fast as his legs would take him! Sounds almost Biblical doesn’t it – a fruit tree and a snake and impending doom?

Some of the worst are the Black Mamba, Cobra and the Puff Adders. All are found in our area with the Mamba most prevalent. It can get quite large ranging from 2.4 to 4 meters or about 7-14 feet and is very aggressive moving as fast as 20 km/hour or 12 mph.

When we were at our rural homestay a couple of weeks ago we were on a trail above the village in the mountains and our guide quickly motioned me around a large rock. We looked back from a safe distance was a Puff Adder sunning just by the rock. They tend to stand their ground and are named for the ‘hissing and puffing’ sound of their warning. We got the point real fast!

You walk differently here than you would back home where there are sidewalks and low cut grass. You are always looking out of the corner of your eye and at your feet and on the ground ahead of you for the slightest movement. And you are always ready to move fast…out of the way!

Becoming a Part of the Family

from Katherine

During the recent school break we traveled 9 hours from our home deep into the Eastern Cape to a rural farming community called Cata.

We stayed with a family in Cata In a set up called a ‘homestay’ we stayed with a typical‘family’ in the village. In the home is the grandmother, uMama, her granddaughter – Tuli, 23, her daughter Sino 2, and another granddaughter – Buhle, 8. The grandfather is deceased, Tuli is not married and her parents live in Cape Town 12 hours away, Buhle’s parents or parent (I’m not sure if she has a mom and dad) are working in a city somewhere. This seems to be the norm in much of South Africa. Millions of grandmothers are the head of the household.

We were welcomed with hugs shown to our rooms and started life as ‘family members.’ They live in one rectangular room. The four of them sleep in 2 double beds at one end of the room, a refrigerator is next to the beds and there are two chairs for a sitting area at the end of the beds. On the other side is a small table where they wash dishes in a big plastic bowl and a cupboard and stove. On the family land there was another house which is where we stayed. It seems to have been built for visits from other family members. It has two small bedrooms and a tiny sitting area.

 

The main house has electricity for the fridge and stove. The other house has lights only at night. There is no running water but they have collection tanks from the rain water off the roof.  Water is delivered as you need it by Buhle as she is the youngest girl. Sino will soon be carrying water in small bottles so that she can learn. At bath time, one bucket of water is heated on the stove or on an open fire and you enjoy a ‘bucket bath’ on the front porch. And, the outhouse was down the hill next to the maize field.

Cata is an interesting village. During apartheid the Xhosa villagers were ordered off their ancestral land by the white government and consolidated on smaller plots in the valley below. Generally when this was done white farmers would move in and use the prime land. For some reason, this never happened in Cata.  After apartheid the villagers in Cata petitioned the new government to get their land back. They won the land as well as cash compensation. Some folks moved back into the hills but many stayed in the valley. 

Using half of the money from the settlement the community focused on creating economic development projects. One focuses on tourism and includes the homestays, horseback riding, trout fishing and hiking in the nearby mountains. Others are involved in community agriculture.

We were there for Xhosa lessons.  We had formal lessons each day and then we could practice on the villagers along the road or in the Tuck Shop. They were VERY kind!  One day we walked to the top of the hill to their ‘toposcope’ which is an outdoor map to learn where the original homesteads were located and how the families were organized. Other days, we went horseback riding into the forest, where we learned about their forestry program, and 4 wheeling to visit a magnificent waterfall. We used local guides on all of these trips which is one of the ways they make money for their family.

The trip was a wonderful experience for all of us. Our Xhosa language is a little bit better.  We so appreciate our hot and cold running water!! Electricity is nice, but candles are romantic (oh, Cason was with us). And, unconditional acceptance is amazing especially when our white skin gives the villagers reason to distrust us.     

Wet Clothes Serve as a Reminder

from Katherine

When I was little I loved to put on my rain boots grab my umbrella and sing and splash in the rain. I usually came home soaked to the skin, by choice! I had to run two errands today, with my car of course, and when I got home I was soaked to the skin, not by choice. 

This made me stop to think about some of my friends here in South Africa.

Grace lives in a rondavel, a small round house about 20 feet across. Ten people live in Grace’s house - not all family, but Grace has a big heart. Grace’s roof is corrugated tin and it leaks. Grace does not have a tank to collect water so someone must walk to the tap. On sunny days there will be children playing in the yard at Graces’. Today with the drenching rains they will all be inside. Except Grace, she had to walk to the taxi rank, ride to the stop where her weekend job is, walk to work, clean someone’s home, walk back to the taxi rank, ride the taxi, and walk home.  All in the pouring rain.

My friend Mafa also lives in a small rondavel with his wife and 2 sons.  Mafa has been building a bigger home on his land for more than a year. He is working hard now to save money to pay for the roofing materials. When he does have the money, he will put the roof on himself.

I think God has used all the wet clothing hanging around my house to remind me of how blessed I am.

A Lesson from Nqobile

from Katherine

When I walked into the preschool at our ministry site today I was receiving so many hugs that I had to sit down. Nqobile, the child in the green jacket, climbed right into my lap and stayed there. After a bit, most of the kids started to play again. Nqobile and I were left to talk on our own.  Nqobile speaks a 2 year old version of 'Xhosa baby talk.' I speak English to the children and some of the time, my limited Xhosa. 

The children often touch my face to get my attention and to see if the white will come off. Nqobile had my face in his little hands as well as something else, my cross necklace. When he was sure that he had my full attention, he began to tell me all about the cross (in Xhosa) and kept pointing to the sky. Over and over he would give the necklace a gentle pull and then point to the sky. I could not decipher his baby talk with my ears, but I am sure in my heart Nqobile was telling me about Jesus.

One Door Closed...Another One Opens

from Katherine

I have spent the last year pouring my heart and soul into the Pre School at our ministry site. I have deliberately avoided imposing my views. Instead, I have encouraged the teachers to focus on providing an educational environment that is fun and safe. At the same time, I have been providing enrichment like art projects for the children.

One of the dangers of being the encourager is that sometimes it takes me a while to figure out that my help is not wanted. This week I made it to the point where it has become very apparent that my involvement in this Pre School is unwanted. Heartbreak! Although, I knew that this door was slowly closing I did not want to admit it to myself , to my white south African friends (many of whom think I am wasting my time anyway),  to my husband, or to the many people and churches that support us. Well now I have said it. I feel better. A little. Still a little bruised, but I will carry on.

It is clear that God has opened new doors for me and now that I am available I will be able to explore these new opportunities. There are many small Pre schools in our ministry area. While they may have some staff and a small facility they are very limited in the amount of instruction they can provide beyond the very basics.

While God is still providing greater clarity daily, I can see myself supporting multiple schools by visiting them a couple of times a week with enrichment programs and curriculum that they would not be able to provide on their own. That is an exciting thought - to be able to share God’s love with many more children and their families and strengthen numerous small Pre Schools and encourage the ‘Grannies’ that have been providing for the local children.

A Long Way to Travel for a Pair of Blue Jeans

from Elliott
I had been looking for some time for a pair of new blue jeans - nothing fancy just basic Levi's. After a couple of months on the lookout wherever I went that had apparel and not finding anything I decided to just wait until I got home over Christmas break. Well that time came and we went to Smith and Davis, the old fashioned small town apparel store near our US home.

There I found exactly what I wanted - right where I thought they would be. I tried a couple of pair on to make sure they would fit my South Africa physique. While doing so, I was surprised to find that the tag inside said "Made in Lesotho"!

After all my searching in retail stores in South Africa the pair I found in the US had traveled 8500 miles from Lesotho to Atlanta for me to just travel the same distance in the opposite direction to South Africa. You see Lesotho is a principality within South Africa and is only about 100 miles from where we live. I wonder if they have a factory store?

Only in our new world order does that make sense!

Stripes and Plaids

from Elliott
OK I admit I am certainly no fashion plate but I do have a few rules that I follow that minimize significant embarrassment! Like, 'Don't mix stripes, plaids or large patterns' , 'Not much goes with lime green' and 'The less physically fit you are the more loose your clothing should be - the 'Klingons' were not just Star Trek characters!'

As with many things my 'rules' have not necessarily translated well in my new culture. Frequently we see the mixing of stripes and plaids/ patterns and middle aged and older men wearing clothes that might have fit them 20-30 years previous. At first I thought it was limited income that limits clothing choices that individuals have here but I have seen the same fashion infractions across the economic spectrum. Then I thought that perhaps it was maybe the stores have limited merchandise but I have seen similar offerings here in the stores that I am used to elsewhere.

Perhaps it is because, when the culture has so many more pressing issues like hunger, HIV/AIDS, ongoing social strife, poor education, etc. there are simple more important things to concern oneself with than does your top coordinate well with the bottom. I guess the Gospel message would be to concern ourselves with those things that concern God most and with all the brokenness in our world, our fashion sense pales in comparison.

So next time you see me and you are shocked by my appearance, remember that I am simply trying to focus first on Kingdom living!