And so it continues. I'll get right down to business. this will hopefully be both uplifting and explicit, and if it is overly so (in either direction) i ask your pardon.
I miss you all, particularly you, mom and dad. Staying in a strange home was both a sweet and bitter (though the food is much better), because i was able to enjoy a family schedule and company while realized both how much i have and miss. in fact, i was embarrassed of how much i have. Their house was nice, well built and rather large (one story, 6 rooms, 1.5 baths), without air conditioning but with cement floor and walls, so very cool even at midday. Afterr visiting Orange Farm, a township composed primarily of shacks of tin, this house was luxury. Yet, when i began to open my flipbook of pictures in my room, i could not stomach showing them what i have. He was firmly proud of his house, paid for with two teachers' (self-termed 'education practitioners', to add cultural weight) salaries, a house that replaced the small brick one that had been on the lot previously. Yet mine, for which i had done nothing, dwarfed his home. I could not bring myself to show my privilege. It was not guilt, i don't thin
k. And it certainly was not ingratitude- i wouldn't trade my home, and my childhood there, for the world. But there was something painful about the inequality, and i did not want to emphasize it.
The homestay was very interesting. We visited everyone and their mother, then the adopted mother-neighbor, the cousins, and several malls. Yes, there are malls in south africa, with KFC, McDonalds, fancy italian brands i can't pronounce but see in Charleston, and ice cream. The roads are full of cars, on the wrong side of the road and all. i've tried to get in the driver seat several times, only to have my homestay brothers laugh at me and call me back.
God has again proven himself faithful. If i recall correctly, i asked you all to pray for joy, for myself, and that i may show my joy to others. At my homestay in suburban Soweto (orlando east), my S. African family gave me a sesotho (pronounced seh-sootoo) name: Thabiso. It means: 'one who brings joy'. yup. sick.
Speaking of sick, Kasey's not feeling 100%, so if you're praying for me anyway, throw one up for her.
My stomach is acting decidedly bipolar, which is understandable (ever eaten pap? or ostrich? springbok?). i have already found myself in the Wantland-esque Dilemna of deciding which, between boxers or dollar bills , most aptly replaces toilet paper. Alas, i kept the bills.
The children here love camera's, and i'll tell you the cameras reciprocate. you can't be a bad photograper when you have children climbing on you, and on Nellie (Dr. Boucher to her face). If you want a challenge, check out Lombano Orphanage for HIV+ orphans in South Africa. I was deeply challenged by their work. This is the same orphanage at which (Auntie/Uncle) Shelley worked this summer. I had not realized the magnitude of her work. To care for children daily, children who may not live until next year, is a hard, hard calling. Yet she did, and others continue to do, now and everyday. In fact, they adopt the children, in their name, so that they can care for them permanently. A stunning, Christ centered, God-faithful and God-relying organization. I hope to visit them with Shelley again tomorrow, and i plan on asking about opportunities to serve there. Pray for that, if you will.
The landscape is phenomenal. THe red dirt contrasts the lush greenery, particularly green after the unusual amount of rain. We are far from the Vaal River, which is flooding out villages right now. I hear the homeland is having some precipitation of another form currently... Any in Greenville?
i ask your prayers, first and foremost, for conversation. I fear i may come off as too eager to talk of God, but He keeps coming up. I am not looking for ways to fit Him in my conversations- He simply flips the breaker and walks in. I don't often know where the convo will go, but when asked my opinion, i'm answering honestly. pray for humility and wisdom, that i would not speak foolishly but that the joy of God and his Gospel would shine naturally.
i was asked my my homestay dad (Tiboho) if i sing our national anthem from the heart. And so i spoke honestly, and said, not as much as i once did. He asked for an explanation, and so I told him that, yes, i was greatful, and i supported much of what we as the US, have done. But i also knew how much we have done poorly, and i explained that I could not pledge my alliagance first to my country, because it is pledged first to my God, and his glory. He was immediately shut off, not offended but uncomfortable. He asked if I was christian, and i said yes; very religious? yes. And so my homestay mom (matabo) said 'you could be like a pastor', and i said yes, maybe. She told me that i should come back and be the first white pastor of a S. African apostolic church (which we attended this morning- wow. ) i said maybe.
These are the hardest things. When my faith sets myself diametrically opposed to the culture i am surrounded by. And yet, there is joy, because this is what it feels like to belong to a different master. You understand the cutter when they say that the pain lets them feel reality. THe pain shows that there is something to fight for, and something to fight against. and that is Good. with a capital G.
this is not meant to be a downer- in fact, i am happy and joyful. we saw the cargo today, and where it will be finally kept. and God is redeeming my relationship with the program. it is beautiful, and i am glad to have taken part. and the friendships here are growing. and they feed us way more than is healthy. and we are staying at an ANGLICAN RETREAT CENTER called st. benedicts. that's cool, like, really.
My letter has become a book, and i am paying by the minute. So i will conclude with a sesotho phrase i was taught but can only remember in english: " two dogs can fight a lion". doesn't really apply, but when in rome!
-drew
No comments:
Post a Comment