South African Journey

    Just recently I have begun to spend time at an orphanage here in Alexandra. I was introduced to the supervisor by a friend at church just the other week. She was kind enough, and excited, to agree to me coming a few days a week to lend a hand around the place. The orphanage is home to about 20 kids age 8 months to 11 years old. During the school year they also open their doors to local community kids and run a day care. It’s not a big place but 50-70 kids are in a place that they can feel safe. The kids are referred to the orphanage by the local police department and the government. The name of the orphanage is Thuthuzela Aid Community Centre. It is a home for orphaned, vulnerable, neglected and children who are HIV positive. The supervisor is amazing, but more about her later! I have only spent 3 full days there but I have come to see how special the people are that work there.

    I have been arriving at Thuthuzela around 9 in the morning. From my home in Kew walking through Alex to the complete opposite side takes about 45 minutes. I arrive at the brightly painted fence and can hear the sound of kids singing, laughing, crying, running and of course hitting each other, they’re still kids. As the gate door rolls open revealing the play area and brick home I am greeted by yells of mlungu (white guy). Followed by getting bombarded with kids using me as a jungle gym. After a few minutes the excitement of a visitor, a white one at that, dies down…a little. Since school is not in session right now there’s not a structured daily program. As far as I can tell the schedule goes something like this, breakfast around 7:30, free time, lunch at noon, baths for the smaller ones around 2pm, free time, then dinner is about 6pm. Monday and Tuesday both followed this schedule for the most part. Tuesday afternoon I had a chance to speak with the supervisor a little bit. I explained more why I am in South Africa and how long I’d be around. She’s excited for the extra set of hands and I’m happy to be able to help, wherever needed. As our conversation continued she asked if I could come to the clinic tomorrow (Wednesday). I of course agreed.

    Two of the kids haven’t been feeling real well lately so we were to take them by the clinic on the other side of Alex, closer to where I stay. We arranged that I would just meet her and the kids at the clinic around 8:30 the next morning. When I arrived at the clinic it was already packed with people. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to meet them, but I soon saw a familiar face. I was shown into another building where the little kids wait to see their doctor. I have never seen a waiting room(s) like this before. I turned the corner and there was a hallway over 50 yards long with chairs on either side, each chair filled…this was the queue. Chair by chair we moved closer to the front of the queue. After a good 2 hours we made it to the front and were shown into a different room. In this much smaller room, the size of a typical waiting room in the US, the kids temperature was taken and each was weighed. There were only 18 chairs here but the wait to see a doctor was another 75 minutes.

    At roughly 11:15am we were finally speaking with a doctor. This meeting took only 5 minutes. The conversation was in Zulu so I didn’t catch anything past the greetings. We left the office and exited outside to head to the building where shots were given. Just our luck, lunch break for those in charge of giving the shots. 12:55pm rolls around and we can finally get the one shot needed for our 2 year old boy…in and out in under 3 minutes. Another building awaits us and more waiting occurs. An IV drip is needed to pump some fluids into this tough boy and at 4:25 in the afternoon we are walking out the front gate.

    I share this with you not to complain about all the sitting and waiting we went through but to give you an idea of what Thuthuzela’s supervisor goes through. We had a chance to speak more while the IV was being given. I learned that she started the orphanage in 2005 because she saw a need for kids to have a safe place to grow up. She cited that she wants to help kids have a safe place because of her own rough childhood. Even after she spent nearly 9 hours at the clinic today, tomorrow wouldn’t be a day to relax. Thursday it was off to court and Friday it was back to the clinic for the youngest child at the orphanage, an 8 months old boy.

    It is people like Thuthuzela’s founder and supervisor who make a difference in communities around the world. Many never get the recognition they deserve for the hard work they do. I thanked her for what she does, but she didn’t want to accept my thanks without me knowing that she did it because she cares. If she gets a Thanks along the way that’s great; but knowing that she was able to give a child a better home and a chance is all that matters to her.

I got a reminder this month: It’s not so much what we DO that matters. What really matters is to BE with and walk beside each other in Christ and grow in whichever direction we are led. This is where the biggest impact will come for both parties.

This reminder came during a conversation with Brian, one of the coordinators of the South Africa program. I was filling him in on how things were going here in Alex and the progression with some community programs I’m getting involved with. After a comment I made I got the above reminder which we often heard during our orientation here in South Africa. I was basically reminded to be aware of what you least expect. Well what I least expected was the impact of a conversation I had the day before.

I spent the week helping out at a food distribution warehouse just outside of Alex. It was Thursday and I was feeling like there wasn’t much for me to do. We had just sent off a few trucks for delivery and things had slowed down. I was sitting outback at the loading dock when one of the office workers came and sat down next to me; this was the first time [and last] that we met. I don’t remember his name but I remember our conversation quite well.

As he sat down he groaned and I looked over and noticed he had one of those walking canes, the kind that wraps around your forearm. He jokingly told me not to get old because “this is what happens”. I laughed and wanted to ask him what he had done but didn’t feel it was appropriate. I think he noticed this and told me it was from playing to much softball. What? Softball? Don’t you mean football [soccer]? He informed me that he does follow football a bit but really loves softball and that the bad knee was from many years of pitching. We then exchanged names and he asked me where I was from. [I’ve found that most people assume that I’m from Germany.] When I told him I was from the States he had plenty of questions. We talked about how we, the States, have both hurricanes and tornadoes and S.A. has neither. This topic brought about a lengthy discussion about Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans.

Following the hurricane discussion I had the task of explaining that all of the US isn’t like Los Angeles or New York, which happened to be two of the cities he had been in. We laughed about some of his experiences with LA traffic and Taxis in NYC. I shared with him that I had spent the past 4 years in a town of 30,000 people and now I’m in Johannesburg, population 12+million. I don’t think he believed there were actually small towns in the states until now. Time was going by fast and another truck pulled up and a few of the guys began loading it.

The best and hardest part of our conversation together came about this time. There was a moment of silence while we watched the workers ‘toss’ 50kg bags of rice, maize meal and stamp into the truck. As some of the bags were loaded they would spill a bit of their contents on the ground. We both noticed this as a waste of food, yet had very different thoughts about it. I was thinking that all the dropped food could add up to fill numerous bags and that the recipients of the food weren’t quite getting the full 50kg. He then let me in on what he was thinking about.

Henry [I’m going to call him Henry] said to me, “You know I can’t stand seeing wasted food on the ground like that.”

Henry: It really pains me to see good food go to waste. I know I can’t do anything about it, it just happens, it is part of the business. There are people in Africa that would literally kill for that food.

[I want to apologize because I don’t feel that this is the right way to share the rest of his comments with you. Not because I don’t want to share them with you but because I feel that I can’t relay the same message in print. There are some things that just can‘t be expressed unless told verbally. As time goes on I hope to share this with some of you.]

As he talked I listened carefully, realizing that I wouldn’t look at things the same ever again. He spoke about how blessed South Africa is, even with it’s dark history it is a blessed country both it‘s people, resources and geographical beauty. South Africa now stands as a symbol of hope for so many African countries still fighting various battles in their country. Some of the things he mentioned during this time I had heard before, but I was now being given a glimpse into his world, giving me a new perspective. Our conversation ended soon after when his phone rang. It was also past lunch time. I thanked him for the conversation and we shook hands and he headed off to answer the call.

I wanted to share this with you not to leave you wondering what he said. But rather that through this conversation and the reminder from Brian, I have realized there are little blessings that we sometimes miss. There are people we meet that if we don’t open our eyes we might miss something special. I don’t want to miss anything while here in South

Africa and I hope that I allow myself to be aware of what Christ has placed in my path.

I paid close attention to the conversation that day, but failed to see the big picture until later. I encourage you to not only reflect each day but live in each moment and find the hidden blessings, or Divine Nobodies*, that have been placed before you. I am trying to be more aware of this myself…I almost overlooked this one.

[*Divine Nobodies is a book by Jim Palmer]

My country coordinators posted something about a book by Rick Steves called Travel as a Political Act and I thought it might be interesting to a few people. Here's the description from Amazon.com:

Travel connects people with people. It helps us fit more comfortably and compatibly into a shrinking world. And it inspires creative new solutions to persistent problems facing our nation. We can’t understand our world without experiencing it. Traveling as a Political Act helps us take that first step.

There’s more to travel than good-value hotels, great art, and tasty cuisine. Americans who “travel as a political act” can have the time of their lives and come home smarter—with a better understanding of the interconnectedness of today’s world and just how our nation fits in.

In his new book, acclaimed travel writer Rick Steves explains how to travel more thoughtfully—to any destination. He shares a series of field reports from Europe, Central America, Asia, and the Middle East to show how his travels have shaped his politics and broadened his perspective.

Last weekend I had the privilege to help lead a camp for Thirty-two 13 year olds from a church here in Alex. We traveled about an hour and a half away to a camp on a game reserve just over the Limpopo Province border. The camp staff helped lead a few group building activities while we were responsible for the lessons and ‘learning’ aspect of camp. I just want to bring your attention to a video we watched Saturday evening. It’s called “No Arms, No Legs”. The camp staff really pushed that we watch it with our youth because of the message behind it and the impact it can have.

The film is only 45 minutes long and was well worth viewing. The film focuses on Nick Vujicic a motivational speaker from Australia. Without going into to much detail here is a little about what it was about. When Nick was born he immediately shocked his family, doctors, friends, when he was born with out arms or legs. He goes on to talk about his struggles in school and how he made it through the tough times. He shares with the audience about how he found meaning in his life.

I would highly recommend everyone checking this film out. Regardless of your age it’s a great story and message Nick has to share with everyone.

Here is the Link to Nick’s website for more information:  www.attitudeisaltitude.com/

The Foundation

I'd like to share with you a bit of my experience during my first weekend here in Alexandra. I arrived here in Alex on a Monday night not knowing what would take place in the coming days. As the week went on I was invited to different places around town and met many people. During this time I was told of a funeral that would be taking place over the weekend. A member of the local church had lost two family member's in the span of a week. Both funeral's were to be held Saturday morning in a little town about four hours away.

I was hesitant to agree to go with the group from the church because I had no connection to the family and was new to this area. After being assured that it would not be a problem for me to go I agreed to go along. Little did I know what was in store for this trip.

We were to leave Alexandra around 9pm Friday night and drive through the night, sleep once we arrived and the funeral would start early Saturday morning. We pulled into the church parking lot a few minutes before 9pm and waited to meet up with the rest of the members going along. I kept checking my watch to see the time passing by and we were still at the church. There was no hurry to get on the road (they all knew we had plenty of time). Being from the States we like to have things run certain ways. If someone says the bus is pulling out at 9pm then it's leaving very close to that time, so you best be early!

There was no hurry in the parking lot that night as we chatted and loaded up the bus and eventually got on the road around 10:30pm. Ah, finally on the move, I was told we would arrive around 3am or so. Enough time for a short nap on the way there, right? Not quite. We were about 15 minutes down the highway when we hit really heavy traffic. Thirty minutes later we realized that it was a license check and all but one lane had been closed down. Anyways, we were moving again!

I'll start by saying I got about 7 and 2/3 minutes of sleep during the drive. My idea of driving at night is different than that of the folks I was traveling with. I'm used to sleeping during road trips. Everyone is 'allowed' to sleep, except the driver and person in the front passenger seat though, cause it's their job to keep the driver awake! Well, not in this bus. We had some great conversations during the drive. We talked about everything from the 11 national languages here in South Africa to how cold it was at my University. I was taught greetings in different languages, sadly I can't spell them?

For those reading this in the States?Have you ever spent 2 hours singing none stop in the car? Perhaps you have. But try singing without the radio, cd or iPod playing along. 2 hours of singing songs that I didn?t know, until I recognized a familiar tune:  "Halleluiah, we sing your praises, all our hearts are filled with gladness". It was a fun and fast rest of the ride to our final destination.

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A South African funeral and the typical funerals that I have been to in the States have many similarities to them, but there are things that made this funeral quite unique for me. We started at the home of the family and walked behind the caskets to the church while a brass band played and people sang and danced. Once inside the church there were prayers, singing, bible verses were read, tears were shed, and laughs were had from the stories shared about the lives of those were honoring.

The church seats about 275 people and there was close to 350+ inside the sanctuary; while another 150 weren't able to make it inside for the service. When we exited the church and started the move down to the graveside, I noticed that just about all those that weren't able to make it inside were still outside waiting. Everyone had the opportunity to say a prayer and toss dirt into the grave. It was a community of family, friend and strangers coming together to honor their mutual friends. After the graveside ceremony there was a meal held at the home of the family for which everyone was invited.

I was amazed at how much people make honoring and remembering those that have passed a top priority here in South Africa. If you are scheduled to work, you find a way to get to the funeral and make up the time missed from work another day. The service wasn?t meant to be a sad somber ceremony, yet a way to share stories about their lives and how they touched other people's lives. I'm not trying to say it was all fun, it's a funeral, they are sad. But I learned that the best way to remember someone is to first understand that they have moved on to a better place. And also to keep them alive here on earth by doing what a few people did during that ceremony. Let them live on through stories, songs, laughs and yes, tears as well.

Before we left the home from the meal we stepped inside to say one last good-bye to the family member from Alexandra. I wasn't sure how she would respond to me. She graciously thanked me for being there and I was asked to share a word of prayer for those in the room before leaving. It didn't matter who I was or where I came from. It only mattered that we were gathered in that lower room remembering those family members and the promise that God made to us.

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Back to Alexandra we headed with more songs and laughter being The Foundation for new friendships.