there is no medal for fourth.
Welcome to the fourth and possibly final installment of Drew Miller's
Africa Study Abroad emails! It is possibly final because i am not sure if
we will have any internet, even phone communication once we reach the
final two weeks of our trip. It's the fourth because i have sent three
emails before it.
We will be spending the last two weeks in the bush in Botswana. In tents and
intense. Really. Our last tour guide told us that he always camps with a
big ole' maglite, so when (not if) the hyenas come sniffing at the tent
you can bash its nose through the wall and send it
packing. Yeah. We also are not allowed to leave the tents at night.
With our record of digestive issues, this will be a harrowing adventure,
to be sure.
Speaking of harrowing adventures:
i previously mentioned the hike: turns out there are more deaths by lightening in
that mountain range than anywhere else. i feel more foolish, yet more
superhero-esque than ever.
I was mugged in capetown. well, unsuccessfully. He said that he was a
cop, that i needed to put my hands on the wall, and that he was going to
search me. Broad daylight, mind you, and crowded, on the main street.
Confused, i said, "no, you're not a cop." And then it sank in.
Of course he's not a cop. I'm being mugged.
He was persistant, but, having begun my dispute, it seemed unwise to alter my stance.
He said 'get on the wall, i must search you,' and i said, 'no, show me a
badge'. After some (verbal) back and forth, he finally said 'oh, you just don't
understand, never mind, no worries.' and i brushed past him.
Immediately he progressed to the next white person on the sidewalk. I
crossed the street, to the nearest security guard. (They stand on most
street corners, watching for trouble,) I explained to him what happened,
and he asked a few questions.
Then he said 'sorry, that's not my block.
the other security guard must be over there somewhere. you should tell him.' Really really.
I had left Hannah K in the internet cafe from whence i had come. So, after
i lost sight of the mugger, i carefully placed myself between two
ridiculously buff fellows that were walking in her direction and scooted
back into the cafe. When hannah finished, i advised her to walk quick,
and upon exiting the building saw my old friend the cop-copier on the
opposite side of the street hastling yet another pedestrian. In broad
daylight. I told the guard again as we passed him on the way to the
guesthouse, and he seemed uncomfortable, but unmoved. TIA chap. (this is
Africa).
Yes, I was shaken up. In fact, I already was. Culturally, everyone walks slow here. Back home,
everyone walks fast. It makes me wary of any and everyone who walks slow,
and thus I am wary of any and everyone here. It is ridiculous, i know, but real in it's consequences. I was a little shaken up.
The strangest thing about the whole event was that he would have gotten more cash if he had just asked. I'm trying to live into Jesus's call to give to whoever asks, as Christ gave to me while i was still in rebellion against him. He didn't need to mug me at all, because I'm practicing grace with my money. Irony. I should have given him money anyway, but i was so surprised it didn't cross my mind until later.
I am currently in a homestay with Steven, living for the weekend with a Lutheran pastor and his wife, and a pastor in training. Wikipedia 'Nakamhela'. It's him. We had no idea that he was so prominent until we googled him tonight. He is a humble man, delicate in reproof and hospitable. We are given a plate of fruit every evening before bed. It's wonderful.
However, there is a goat head in the fridge. Note that it
is dead. I figured this truth was self-evident, but the intern pastor thought the distinction to be both humorous and necessary. Alas-
things are different here.
if you've ever read Cry, the Beloved Country, the Pastor with whom we are staying fits the main character very well. I watched him try to counsel his son, who has left the fold, so-to-speak. I have never seen such self control and yet such wisdom. He chose his words as Manet chose his colors. Each response was carefully weighed.
He reminds me that I have much growing to do in my faith. And to be honest, I can prove it.
I felt pretty good about myself, and how I had maintained my patience, how I had encouraged others towards Christ, how I had avoided gossip, and avoided complaining (for the most part). But this past week has been hard. I have gossipped. I have grown impatient, i have snapped, I have despised some of my friends. I have complained. And in my pride I still focussed on the pride of others, ignoring my own. Even as I think of the week, i try to justify my behaviors. I was tired. I was ill. Their pride was obvious, and disrespect cutting.
Yet i cannot defend my behavior. I have not loved, but hated, and I know that i chose the latter.
All to often i forget. But I need Christ. Because I am a sinner. And the rest need me to have Christ too, because my brokenness is contagious, and my sin is hurtful to my friends.
So I ask for your prayers as i try to return, in confession, to my God. As we sang in church this morning, I need thee every hour. God, if only I would remember that. Pray that my brokenness would be clear to me, that I would run ever quicker to the God who saves.
And pray that i would repent well, that i would love those that wear on me with an unconditional love. Pray that i would have wisdom to speak correction when it is truly needed, but also for humility, that I would not act in self-righteousness as I am prone to do. I want to bring glory to God by bringing worshippers to His throne, but i cannot do so in my power. The quicker I see my need for Christ, the quicker I can live and rejoice in Him, and the quicker i can live in His ability instead of mine.
Recenlty I have realized the limitations of one-way communication. I miss my discussions with many of you. I miss praying with some of you, eating with some of you, just chatting with some of you. While enjoying the trip, I''m counting down the days until our 16.5 hour flight back home
I miss almost all of you. However, in continued honesty I must say that I do not miss Renee and Ali, who are on this mailing list. But that is simply because they are both on the trip with me: the rest of you, I miss.
To leave you on a happy note, i was finally able to watch the homemade DVD that my parents sent me for my birthday. The soundtrack (Africa, of course) was phenomenal, and the character development superb. I have never seen so many baby pictures. Thank you for the reminder of my loving family.
Alas, i have meandered on too long again. I fear quantity has once more beaten quality. If it is so, don't read the mugger section. It's really not that crucial. May the God who draws me near draw you near too.
-Thabiso
-drew
ps-I'm trying to figure out housing for next fall, and i have a sore throat, so I covet your prayers for those as well.
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