{ wonder }

Victoria Falls, as seen from Zambia

While in Zambia, one of the first things we did was go visit Victoria Falls, one of the Seven Wonders of the Natural World. Of course there is no way to capture its beauty in a photograph, but it really was awe-inspiring. Standing anywhere near it, you'd have to shout over its loudness. And on the staircase down the the "bottom" to see it, we all got soaked straight through to our underwear, just from the backspray (it basically rains upwards).

Running around at the top of the falls were monkeys and baboons who were mischievous and would attack tourists if they had the invitation to do so. We were warned not to feed or play with the monkeys by the local hotel staff only two minutes away. We even saw a baboon break into one of the hotel rooms to rifle through a lady's suitcase and get at a package of cookies! The giant monkey is about the size of an eight year old child, and it can be nasty! With its bare hands, it ripped the sliding door out of its tracks and broke into the room from the outside!

Once Graydon was staying at this same hotel and he told us about how he had gone into the shower and heard a bang in his room. He jumped out the shower, and threw open the door, prepared to encounter someone trying to burgle his money or passport. Instead he was met by a giant baboon, teeth barred! While he had been prepared to encounter an armed intruder, he was in no mood to take on this monkey; he locked himself in the bathroom until he heard it leave out the balcony door from where it had come. Ha!

Just at the top of the falls was a local market that we visited. All of us picked up some beautiful pieces of handcrafted artwork to take home for our friends and family. While shopping, we were called out to with every imaginable enticement:

"Friend, friend, please come to my shop! Looking is free! Looking is free!"
"Beautiful lady! You need a beautiful necklace!"
"Brother, I have six children, and I must feed them! Please help me! Please choose from me."

They are good salespeople, and they know how to suck us Canadians in. One guy had a mini little Canadian flag on his stall, and he claimed he gave discounts for Canadians. Another fellow tried sucking soft-hearted Tommey in by telling him his three kids were starving and he needed support to buy them some food. Tommey, so clever in that moment, asked the man what his kids' names were. He was given three names, which he memorized, and he promised the man that he would return the following morning to make his final purchasing decisions. In the morning when we all returned to the market, Tommey once again asked the man what his three children's names were. To that, the man could only laugh and say, "You got me!"

They give the impression that they drive a hard bargain, and it's easy to get in the haggling mindset. In fact, they want you to haggle. One time I asked how much something cost, because I was prepared to pay nearly anything for it. The response I got? "How much do you want to pay for it?" So, of course, I started low, and then he about multiplied my price by ten or twelve to drive up the deal. We haggled for a good ten minutes and finally settled somewhere in the middle. I came home with two gorgeous stone bowls, a stone head carving, two sets of stone coasters, and a small "jade" turtle for my brother. This was all for under $80, which would hardly buy one of these gorgeous pieces at home in the mall. However, then there is always the price to pay when you have to lug around a 60 lb. bag for the remainder of the trip.

After we left the market, Pastor Roy picked us up at our hotel before leading us six hours by car to Maamba. He humbly and kindly began to load all of our luggage onto the bus. Noticing how unnaturally heavy all of our bags were, he had to comment. We told him about all the great statues we had bought. He shook his head with that hilarious dry sense of humor of his, saying, "The Canadians are always the same, coming here to buy their rocks." For the rest of the trip he would always tease us about our precious rocks, or sometimes when he saw a big rock on the side of the road, he would ask me if I wanted to buy it. I think Pastor Roy was officially one of the funniest people I've had the privilege to know. I think he will come up again and again when I tell more stories.

Africa had so many wonders to share with me, and so many things to keep me wondering about, even today. Of course there are raging waterfalls, vengeful baboons, clever vendors, and witty pastors, but there is so much more, too. Stay tuned.

{ Friday night recommendations }

- Again, I must recommend the book Emerging Churches--I am being completely floored by it daily.

- Check out this cutest little Korean prodigy. Her rainbow hanbok is pretty cute, too.

- Try a tall almond latte--it sure picked me up this dreary Friday morning.

- Why not clean your bedroom like I just did. You'll spend more time there in relaxation, and not stress.

- I'm thinking of reading The Alchemist on a recommendation. I know nothing about it--does anybody here second that recommendation?

{ things i'm mulling over }

" We have come to see that it is all about Jesus and not just a methodology. It is not about mission, not about church, but it's about Jesus and his glory, his life. To know Jesus is not an event, a ritual, a creed, or a religion. It is a journey of trust and adventure. We don't believe in any religion anymore--including Christianity--but we do believe in following Jesus. We no longer need religion with its special buildings, dogmas, programs, clergy, or any other human inventions that displace genuine spirituality. Why do we need a name and address to be a church? We've come out of religion and come back to God. " (thoughts from Jonathan Campbell, as read in Emerging Churches (p. 47)).

** I think I could replace all the "we"s with "I"s in this passage. I could make it my own declaration.

-- what significance there is to the fact that "the church" is a modern institution trying to function in a postmodern world

-- the fact that, when a public poll was taken in Seattle (I will try to find a more concrete reference for this), 95% of people had no problem with the person of Jesus; what then do they have the problem with (in regards to "Christianity")? (this is a bit of a rhetorical question; I know the answer)

-- centrifugal (outward) vs. centripetal (inward) focused church/community

(So I've started reading this book and I don't know if I've ever encountered anything so simultaneously exciting/encouraging/shocking/challenging. I'm fifty pages in, with a massive handful still to go. I'm sure I will have more to say once I gather my thoughts in a more organized and presentable fashion.)

{ being home }

I've been so caught up in the joys and sorrows of this day-to-day life that I set aside--not forget, mind you--some of the joys and sorrows of Africa. In Africa I could hold a child's hand, paint her face, kick him a soccer ball. I was not strong enough to do much hammering or digging, so I held up planks for others or passed tools into stronger hands. I attempted to teach English to street boys who seemed much more interested in touching my white skin or sitting next to me while I read aloud. I will never undermine or undervalue the love that I did have to give--I gave what I had, and I know it was happily received. However, this grand idea of going all the way to Africa to give love is one that is somewhat skewed. I have the same love to give right here at home, too.

This week a friend at work confided in me the pain she has been through over the past three months. Her live-in boyfriend of four years kicked her out of their (her) house when he cheated on her with an old girlfriend. She had built her life around her relationship with this man--they had planned their marriage, their future family, and had made major purchases together. In one day her whole world fell apart, and she has found herself living alone in a small apartment for the first time in her life. She lost thirty five pounds in two months and is still hurting.

Another girl at work is dealing with the death of her young, vibrant aunt and the bitter family feud that has recently ensued. Her aunt held the family together, and, without her, everything is falling to pieces. This girl's parents are separated, she has two half siblings that she wants to have a relationship with but can't. She is hurting so much, also.

Another dear friend of mine, close in age to me, is dealing with recent news that she may have to face a future of infertility. In her voice I can hear confusion, anxiety, and hurt that I wish I could remove from her.

These past two weeks of being back have been filled with so many stories like these. Since I've been back, I've been realizing that our view of "missions" and "helping others" has been so glamorized that we make excuses for not acting in love in our day-to-day lives. It is so easy to excuse our own impatience, rudeness, or apathy with excuses like tiredness or stress. It can be easier to pass up opportunities to love than to step out of a lazy attitude. I have been guilty of all these things. People are always impressed when I told them I helped work on an orphanage in Africa, but what is it worth if I don't carry the same "mission" of love in my daily life at home?

It is interesting that in Africa while people may have deficits in the physical realm, they lack nothing spiritually. Although money and food may be scant, the peoples' lives are filled with joy, hope, and love. Here in Canada we may have money, food, glamorous houses and beautiful clothes, but there is a huge void in peoples' spirits--loneliness, depression, despair and a general lack of purpose are behind peoples' curtained-off lives. We heap up physical objects and qualities to try to compensate for our spiritual deficits. In Africa, the deficit is physical, so they instead store up spiritual qualities. People in Canada and Africa are both hurting--they are just hurting for and about different things.

Derek has had this saying for a couple of years. He always says: "Wherever you are, be all there." When I was in Africa, I focused hard on being all there in Africa; I combated homesickness and a longing for the familiar. Now that I am back in Canada, I want to be all here--my time in Africa was amazing and life-changing, and I was extremely fortunate to have had such an amazing opportunity to spend a month there. However, I know during this time of my life I am placed here, back in the "normal", and I refuse to live a life devoid of purpose, meaning, and love. I want to be all here, in these moments, caught up with the people I know and love, hurting with their hurts, and giving what I have available to give.

I want to share many more Africa stories with you, but I wanted to first share this with you: there is so much to do wherever you are. So many people tell me how envious they are that I went and that they did not. However, the heart of giving and loving is the same wherever you go and wherever you are. This is a realization that I brought back with me and that I wanted to share with you. Wherever you are, be all there.

As a footnote, I wanted to say that I know that I generalized a bit when I said that Africa has primarily a physical deficit and that we have primarily a spiritual deficit; I know that there are people in Africa who have been wounded in spirit, and there are people here in Canada who are physically poor. On the whole, however, I would say that my generalizations about our two societies are fairly accurate.

{ maybe poems that make sense to me don't make sense to you }

somehow, while i'm not trying,
my mind composes poetry--
wordless and formless, but deep and profound.

sometimes, in an instant, i have this glimmer of understanding--
i can understand life, purpose, destiny, all the big things
(all while i'm plucking my eyebrows, playing tetris, or slicing cucumbers).

somehow, it's as if i live my whole life in an instant of an instant;
i live out dreams, live through nightmares;
i embrace and abandon, in all the right combinations.

somewhere, true life is hiding in that glimmer--
all those mysterious secrets are waiting for me just there.
what is it, then, that pulls me back to this?--whatever this is.

{ kung fu and tatoos }

One truly hilarious day at the Joshua Project was around Day 5 of working. We had most of the mural done--we were still doing some touch ups, the bathrooms were getting a fresh coat of paint, and Derek was just finishing wiring in the new light fixtures.

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, and a bunch of street kids came wandering in. First came these two boys, about 5 and 6 years old--I am still not sure if they were friends or brothers. Anyways, these boys were crazy!! They had more energy than any kids I've ever seen in my life. They were funny and yet had learned so many vulgar gestures that I was appalled (I'm not sure if they knew they were bad gestures, or simply did them to get attention from us). These boys loved checking out what we were doing and trying to help. They wanted to help us paint, but we didn't think that would be such a good idea. Instead, I got out some face paint that we had in the car, and I said I could paint their faces. They were very excited.

The first thing they wanted? Beards. Haha! I've never heard a kid ask for a beard of face paint before, but I drew beards and mustaches and even sideburns on their smooth little faces. It looked so funny afterward. There were these two boys running wild around in the room, trying to help us paint the wall, giving us the finger, all the while with these unnaturally mature beards on their faces.

These boys were also the start of all the kung fu shananigans that would take place for the rest of the trip. Because the majority of the people in our group are Asian, they were mistaken for Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan everywhere they went. Asian people, as you can imagine, are a rare sight in Africa (especially in the more remote areas), and the only thing that most African people know about Asians is that Chinese people are great at kung fu.

So, these two boys kicked off the martial arts. They would run up to people on our team and start kung fu chopping or kicking them. At first we thought it was cute, until they started kicking and punching harder. We would play fight back for a little, only to discover that they were actually trying to kick the living daylights out of us. You'd be trying to fight one of them off and asking them to stop nicely, when the other one of them would run up and jump on your back, locking his arms around your neck in a choke hold.

Somehow that day, because my painting project was done and I was doing the most standing around, I got choke-holded the most. After I was completely tuckered out by these little tykes, Tommey took them outside and did some taekwondo improvisation to wow them. Other kids (and even teenagers) showed up to ooh and aah at his performance.

Once the kung fu demo was over, more kids wandered inside, desperate for face paint. I painted things on their faces at their request (spiders were popular that day). Then, however, while Derek was attaching a light to the ceiling, they all noticed his tatoo on his arm. Derek got a tatoo in memory of his brother Danny just in February. It is bright red with striking black, and is not easy to miss when he is wearing a sleeveless t-shirt as he was that day. All the kids, after spying this tatoo, crowded in to me again. They all gestured and told me in their broken English that they wanted what he had on their arms. They were so intent on it that they all even ensured that it was on their right arm, just like his--the left arm just wouldn't do.

And so, I undertook recopying Derek's tatoo onto each of six kids' arms. Then they all gathered around him excitedly, showing him that they were all just like him. It was so precious.

{ The Joshua Project }

We arrived in Jeffreys Bay late on a Friday night, got settled into our rooms, and went straight to bed. Saturday morning we had the chance to wake up and explore our rooms (and the strange bugs they were host to!), our dining facilities, the yard, and the beach! It was a relaxing day of photo-taking, laughing, and napping (that jetlag was killer!). Sunday we attended a local church with Graydon and his family, and we had a casual lunch afterwards at the cutest little bistro.

That first Monday morning, however, brought us into our season of hard work! Our team of eighteen was split into two groups of nine; half went to do hard labor (digging trenches, hauling cement, knocking out walls with sledgehammers) at a local community center being built in the township; the other half of the group--my team--went to the Joshua Project.

The Joshua Project is a humble yet ambitious nonprofit community endeaver that was started years ago by a sweet, now old, man from Holland. Ohm (Uncle) Pete, now in his eighties, wanted to do something to help the people suffering from apartheid; he saw how township life negatively affected the lives of children in the community, especially some of the young teenage boys who live homeless lives. He created the Joshua Project to give these boys things that no one else in the community would or could give them--some hot food in the morning, a second chance at an education, and some good, fatherly discipline (something that has been severely lacking in all their lives).

Other people have partnered with Ohm Pete through the years--Jon, a joyful middle-aged fellow--moved to Jeffreys Bay with his wife and kids to help out the cause. One Canadian woman joined with them, and several local women help keep the place clean and well-stocked with good, homecooked meals. The team at Joshua is enthusiastic, joyful, persevering, and hopeful. They have faced so many trials--their financial future is never certain, they continually have to deal with kids and other community members abusing alcohol and getting belligerent and violent. While we were there, two windows were smashed, their old, old photocopier broke down, and one boy who was drunk out of his mind had to be hauled to police in the back of a pickup truck.

At the beginning of each day, however, the team is back, smiles on their faces, faithfulness and hope in their eyes, and thankfulness just ringing out of them. We learned great lessons of patience and perseverence from these amazing leaders.

We saw how God has also been faithful to them through their trials. On day one when our team of nine arrived in the tiny lounge upstairs, we asked how we could help them out. They asked what expectations we had of our time spent at the project; they explained that usually teams come with something in mind that they'd like to do. We said we had no expectations--we simply wanted to do whatever was needed. They were very encouraged by this. Without knowing any of us, they said that if they could have it their way, they had hoped that there would be two teachers, one carpenter, and one "computer geek" among us. "Coincidentally" (I do not believe in chance), we happened to, in fact, have two teachers, one carpenter, and one computer geek among us. Sarah and I are both certified, graduated teachers; Patrick (my brother-in-law) is a finishing carpenter who runs his own contracting business; and Phil is a graduated Computer Sciences major who does all the website and networking work for our church. So right off the bat the team at Joshua was encouraged, and they put us to work within the first ten minutes. Sarah and I would teach, Patrick would do some simple repairs here and there, and Phil would fix their computer network and FTP connection for their previously created website. The rest of the team was assigned to "spruce the place up" in whatever way they thought possible and suitable.

We thought a new coat of paint for the dining/multipurpose room was definitely necessary:


main room 'before'

However, Tommey, who Derek assigned to be the 'team leader' for the painting project (because he has a good eye for artistic things/interior design) had a bigger vision. He decided that just recoating the paint was not good enough. After all, these kids are still kids, and wouldn't they like to have something a little more exciting than that! He came up with the idea of creating an Africa-themed mural. After running it by the leaders at Joshua, it was a go-ahead. We had a total of seven or eight days to completely transform the place from its dull two toned blue with old, decrepit fluorescent lighting, into something more magical.

Sarah and I taught school each day in the morning while the others downstairs started prepping the walls for painting. From 10:00-2:00 we worked with a group of boys who were mostly street kids abandoned by their families. These kids were rough--not the typical sweet, smiling children you see on World Vision commercials. They'd had a hard life, no access to showers and soap and laundry. Putting up to nine of them in a "classroom" at once (the room was about the size of a typical home office) resulted in a stuffy, smelly atmosphere which inspired fist fights in under two minutes (these brawls were a daily routine). The kids had no pencils, no books, and although most of them were ages twelve to sixteen, they were at about a grade one reading level because they had not been able to make it in the normal neighborhood schools. They were curious about Sarah and I and for the first few days they were quiet and good and they looked forward to a chance to have some one-on-one attention from us and to sit beside us. However, as the days wore on, the novelty of us Canadian girls wore off, and they would start to act up. Jon would come in and drag them out (literally) and discipline them, something that was much needed in their life. Most of the time, their behavior would improve for a short time.

We worked with the students on the most basic elements of reading and writing--long and short vowels, consonant blends, and phonics--and tried to make it fun while doing it (we gave them homemade crosswords and wordsearches and opportunities to write acrostic poems and then illustrate them). Every few minutes we'd have to change up the activities so that they wouldn't get bored and start squabbling with one another. I can't honestly say we made a huge difference to these kids, but hopefully we piqued their interest in school a little more so that they could hold out and keep up good attendance until their summer break.

In the afternoons when I wasn't teaching, I would help out with the mural project downstairs. Those of us who were good at freehand drawing painted some things (I do not include myself in this group--I am a good tracer only). Some amazing trees started to take shape in the corners of the room; their branches and leaves trickled onto the roof to give a 3D effect. Some of the girls painted a male lion by eye only. I used a broken old overhead projecter and a very light photocopy to draw out a female lion on a rock an a large elephant on the far wall. Over several days I drew them out in pencil, did double coats of paint to fill in their main colors, then outlined them in black and added finishing details. I was proud of the work I did because I do not consider myself an artistic person.

Patrick built a new TV cabinet from scrap lumber, Derek took down all the ugly fluorescent lights, and we used some of our fundraised money to buy new halogen spotlights (the kids were enthralled by these new lights!). At the end of our eight days of hard work, we had redone the main room, cleaned and repainted two bathrooms, created a new office room (with newly painted shelving), washed the whole outside of the building by hand, and replaced the carpeting in the upstairs lounge room. The pride and joy was still the mural, which turned out really nicely:


main room 'after'

See other shots of the room here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

So, our time spent at the Joshua Project was a time of giving and receiving. We gave the simple abilities of sanding, washing, painting, and cleaning. Some of us taught or hammered or typed. However, we received amazing lessons of patience, joy, perseverence, hope, and dedication just through meeting the amazing people who have given so much of themselves into this community center. I really do feel like I received so more than I gave. It is amazing how God was able to bless everyone involved in this project--the people who went, and the people who waited. It is a real testament to how faithfulness can be both rewarded and rewarding.

{ Jeffreys Bay }

Jeffreys Bay, South Africa, as seen from the beach

So I wanted to start telling you some of my Africa stories. There are many of them--too many to tell (too many to even remember at once!)--so I'll have to be selective in the ones I tell. I'll try to go chronologically, but it might be hard since I can be a bit scatterbrained. We'll see how it goes.

We finally reached Jeffreys Bay, South Africa after three days of travelling to get there. We discovered that by travelling to the southernmost coast of South Africa, we were literally going to the other side of the world; there is no destination in the world (well, except Madagascar) that is further from where we live. So that was exciting and surprising--I was on the complete other side of the world from where I've grown up my whole life, and I did just fine. As you'll see, I overcame a lot of my fears and apprehensions on this trip, and being far away from home was one of them.

Anyways, above you can see Jeffreys Bay (the town name has no apostrophe, which drives me crazy!). It's a beach town, quaint and quiet. The locals are white, black, and colored (more on that later), and are for the most part friendly and laid back. You know right away that you are in Africa not by the sights and sounds, but by the easy-going nature of the people. Everything can be done at your leisure, meetings with strangers are friendly and not hurried, and the entire day's functioning of the town follows the timing of the sun--stores open around 8 AM and close around 4 PM. It's winter there for them, so the sun sets close to 6 PM. By then everything seems like a ghost town--people have left work for the day and are home, inside their houses.

The town is small--there are no malls, and only about three grocery stores (there are, however, about twenty surf shops!). It is definitely a surf town, the underground surfing Mecca for anybody in the Billabong circuit. Apparently Billabong hosts some major surf tournaments there every year, and they also do a lot of good in the community (they are the largest employer in the town, employing mainly people from the township who are trying to get on their feet).

So, anyways, we got a guest house for our group of 18, and we were only about one block from the beach. We could hear the ocean from our yard at night! It was beautiful. Just up the street from us there were mansions that I'm sure were worth close to a million dollars. The ironic thing is that only about three block in the other direction, the township is home to thousands and thousands of people who have only gained access to running water and electricity in the past two years.

As many of you may know, apartheid in South Africa ended only very recently, in 1991. Despite the fact that it has officially "ended", it is still enforced throughout society by the affluent white people. Thus, most colored and black people still live in townships, ghetto-type areas situated on the edge of the cities. Jeffreys Bay has two townships on its outskirts, one for the colored people (typically lighter-colored black people, although not always; these people were once the Natives in South Africa; these people have more favor in general society than the black people) and one for black people (decendents of the Zulu who moved south down the coast and overtook the colored Natives in South Africa--this is before colonization even took place; these people are generally the most poor and have the most difficulty finding jobs because of the strong racism). South Africa is still very much gripped by racism, hatred, and stereotypes. The black and colored people hate one another more than they hate the whites. Among the whites there are divisions of British descendants and Dutch descendants (Afrikaaners) and they also do not get along with each other.

While some mixing of the races is beginning to occur, it is still taking time. The town is still run by white people, although many colored people are getting part time jobs at local businesses (but they are paid only a few dollars a day). In our two weeks there, I saw no black people employed at any local businesses. Even in the townships, there are divisions between the black and colored people. We did work in the Joshua Project (more later), which is a community center located in the colored peoples' township (the two townships run together now, because they've grown so large).


photo taken in Tokyo Sexwale, one of two townships outside of Jeffreys Bay

Here is one photo I got of the township. As you can see, the houses are nothing more than simple shacks strung together with salvaged materials. These smaller houses have no electricity or running water, but there are shared toilets and water pumps every few hundred feet. There are some bigger houses on the very edges of the township. They are about the side of an average North American's living room, and they are built with proper wood and tin roofs. These would be homes for the "richer" people in the township.

The township has an interesting feel with wild dogs, chickens, and roosters scrounging around in the dirt. People have devised their own systems for getting groceries and other needed items (they previously would not have even been allowed to come into the city to buy anything), so they've set up their own little market systems. It's not uncommon to see people selling produce or even pay phone talk time in the midst of these little homes. Most children attend one of the few neighborhood schools. The schools take great pride in educating these kids. Government teachers are employed, and all the children wear clean uniforms (often navy blue or dark green). We often saw them taking little trips in neat rows behind their teacher, making their way to the central soccer field to play for half an hour or so, sharing the one basketball or one rugby ball between many of them. Later, we would meet some more neighborhood kids at the Joshua Project, when we started our work there.

So, that is an overview of Jeffreys Bay. It is a quaint (beautiful) little town with quite a mix of people who come from all walks of life. More stories about the town itself will undoubtedly come up as I begin to unravel my stories of our time spent there. Stay tuned :)

{ fresh summer look }

I've been inspired by the bright blue skies these days. How could I not create a fresh new look for the blog to go along with the summer weather! So here is the new look.

The photo above was taken in Jeffreys Bay, South Africa, where we investigated the intriguing and beautiful local sand dunes.

{ juxtaposition }

Driving home from British Columbia yesterday, I was struck by an amazing sight that carried on for miles at the side of the winding mountain road we journeyed--

Two years ago, forest fires raged through the hot interior of the province. When we drove through Kamloops, we saw one particular area that had been scorched; the entire landscape looked barren and desolate. However, when we were right alongside the forest of burnt tree trunks, I was presented with the most amazing juxtaposition--amongst all that death, there was new life. The most vibrant purple flowers sprouted out everywhere near the bases of the coal black tree trunks. It was beautiful. When we returned to the more normal setting of healthy pines and poplars, however, no more flowers grew. I found it interesting.

Africa stories still to come.