Injaule

Ok, so I came home tonight overwhelmed and exhausted. We had set out to run a bunch of errands and get some supplies we needed while Julie had a meeting with the Mozambican staff to catch up on the last few months when she has been back in the U.S. We took Alecio with us, Maria’s grandson, as a guide. We also ended up with Injaule, one of the twins and his older brother Jaunito, both of whom we had brought to school only to find out their teacher had not shown up again. I brought the Eng-Port. dictionary with us and we set off around 1pm. First we went to the electricity depot to buy electricity (weird to actually have to do this yourself) and found we needed a number back at the house. Then we went to three different stores to return a case of empty coke bottles and get a new case. We couldn’t get this done because we were told that the coke factory was closed for a few days. This went on and on. The stores were all closed over the lunch hour, which is actually 12:30-3:00! You know that frustration that comes when your expectation is to accomplish ten things, and two get done? That’s what was happening in me, compounded by the desire to be by myself for a few hours, which had been growing all week and couldn’t yet fit into our schedule. My expectation had been that we would get the supplies and then I would return to the house to clean the house we are renting alone for a few hours.
After returning to the house to get the electricity information, we stopped by the staff meeting so Julie could check Injaule’s side, which he said had been hurting all day. He had vomited in the morning and just hadn’t been his funny, outgoing self all day. Julie said we should take him to the private clinic to have him checked for appendicitis. At the clinic, it was extremely difficult to communicate with both the receptionist and Injaule at the same time, as only one person spoke both Portuguese and English. In the doctors office, Injaule would hardly let the doctor examine him he was so nervous and afraid. Injaule doesn’t know exactly how old he is but he’s probably around 10 or so, and fearful of doctors. This fear is compounded because Injaule’s mom has refused to go for her HIV treatments because when she got her blood taken to be tested, she did not understand that her blood would rejuvenate itself, and instead thought she would run out of blood. So, after the exam, when Injaule needed to have his blood tested, he completely refused. There was nothing that I, his brother, or any of the nurses could do to convince him he would be ok. Finally, one of the nurses grabbed his arms and began dragging him. Injaule really started to cry and pull away. I had to take him out of the clinic and tell them I would come back later. I was by myself as Todd had to go meet the rest of the kids after school and I could not get a hold of Julie. We waited outside in the dark for them to return, me trying to lighten the mood with the boys, but wanting to cry myself. By 7:00pm that night, we had returned with Julie, had his blood taken, gotten a prescription and left. I could barely talk to anyone as I was so exhausted and overwhelmed.

An hour and a half later, I’m sitting next to Injaule, as he on a Mozambican bed in our living room. He is going to spend the night. Julie and Sidney have gone down the road for something to eat, so it is just the three of us. I have made him an egg sandwich, since eggs are a treat, but he tears it into pieces with his right hand, which is what he is used to doing. He has a tangerine and some juice to take his medicine. I put itunes on so we have some dinner music and I turn off some of the lights. After he eats, he pulls a sheet over him and I tuck him in. I rub his forehead and give him a kiss. I don’t know what to even think. If it had been his appendix, which we still don’t know, it is one of those things that I had been thinking about earlier in the week, a relatively easy condition to treat, but one in which he could have been seriously ill or died had he not been looked at. I thought about his mom, who would likely die this summer, leaving him and his brothers without any parent. If he had gone home tonight, I wondered what it would have been like, as he is usually responsible for caring for her. As I sat there though, I started to think about when Julie, Todd, Sidney and myself had prayed together that morning. God had really shown up for us today. This could have happened last month, when Julie wasn’t here, or the car could’ve died earlier (it did the next day), or a million other possible scenarios could have played out with different results. I thought again about something Julie had said to us earlier in the week, that it was such a privilege to be able to have the means to help these kids. A lot of what I was feeling then was replaced by a sense of purpose and meaning. Sitting next to Injaule, knowing he was feeling better, had a full belly, and was loved and spoiled a bit tonight, was what this is all about. This is really the heart of what Julie does. When all of the fund raising and organizing and menial tasks are done, this is what she does.

Boys

Julie has arrived, coming in last night to surprise the boys with a dinner at a restaurant. We had taken them to the beach earlier in the afternoon and played games, ate some chocolate and took pictures. When the boys saw Julie, they started jumping up and down screaming and ran down the beach to meet her. I got some amazing pictures of Julie embracing each of them, kissing and hugging them.

Tonight, after dinner, we were sitting around with the kids in the dark yard. Usually the kids leave by 4:30 so that they can get home before dark, but tonight we were going to drive them, so we could stay a bit later with them. Domingos went and found the light bulb for the back porch and screwed it in. Then, one by one, the kids came up and read a few lines that they had written to her to welcome her home. They were actually typed up, which was huge, and then they gave her the paper as she hugged them. It was incredibly touching.

Today was the first day I realized I love these children. There have been times when just simply being with them and looking around at their faces has made me want to cry. They are so funny and amazing, just like every kid. I love to see how each of them are so different, but how they have really created a family for themselves. They love to dance and can do these crazy flips in the air. I have hesitated to write about them, not really knowing how to explain the feeling I have for them after such a short amount of time. What are all of these feelings of affection and protectiveness? How did they develop so quickly? Have I really only known them less than a week? In my struggle to understand all of this, and then to try and adequately explain it, I realized that it doesn’t matter how I describe it. It is what it is, and I think most people will understand it.

Becca

I have thought about Becca so much this week. There are so many children here that are her age. The children here are covered with dust, a sandy dirt. Their heads, their feet, their clothes. There are small crowds of children alone, always alone, carrying one another on their backs. I passed a little girl, sitting alone outside a house playing with a piece of metal, with no one around. No one cares where they go, what they do, all day long. Most don’t know how old they are, with no formal record of their existence. So, I see Becca everywhere, keep thinking ‘We would never let Becca go barefoot in that garbage. We would never let Becca wear that- its not even an outfit, just a torn piece of cloth. We would never leave her alone.’ I think of Becca how she is constantly full of pure joy and smiles, taking in the world in awe. How Mim and Vince treasure every single new little thing she learns or discovers.

*After writing this blog, I found out that Becca was sick this week, really dehydrated with a fever and had to go to the hospital for an IV. It really made me miss her and feel like she’s so far away. I went back and re-read this blog, realizing that kids around here die from that kind of stuff all the time. I wish I could give her wild and crazy kisses that make her laugh. Thank you God for her family and for her health. I love you Uz-Becca-Stan.

Adaptability

It has become absolutely unbelievable to me in the last few days the adaptability of human beings. How within a few days, your ‘norm’ can be completely re-written. The first day I used the latrine behind the kitchen at the boys home, I looked over and saw the head of a rat that had been chewed off and was swarmed with flies, sitting on the ground next to where I was. There are chickens that have built nests in the piles of garbage that they also eat, and have their broods of chicks following them around. After lunch today, I came out to see the cook using the cutting knife to clean something off of her toenail. Tomorrow, I will eat lunch there again. This is how human beings live like this. Necessity, of course, and our incredible adaptability, where we know nothing else, so that what we know is the norm. Although this adaptability is one of our greatest survival skills, it also makes me sad to see how this quality can cause us to so easily adjust to living in horrible conditions (and see others living in it) with little or no thought.

Policia

Today was our first encounter with the Mozambique police. We had been told by various people to always carry our passports, as the police frequently stop foreigners, wanting to check their documents. We had just left the hotel and turned out onto the street accompanied by Raymond, Julie’s local contact. As we passed the two officers, they asked to see our passports. Kylee had not brought hers and immediately turned around to retrieve it.

Although they merely checked ours, while we waited for Kylee, two other guys passed by and did not have their papers with them. The officer would not let them go, instead repeating over and over the importance of carrying their documents. Finally he told them to go back to where they were staying, another local ministry, and return with them. Immediately after they left, the officers demeanor completely changed. He turned to Todd, calling him ‘good friend’ and asking where he was from. Just as I began to wonder what had suddenly created this change, the officer mentioned that he was ‘thirsty’ and needed money for something to drink. After we payed him 50 meticais (about $2), we continued on our way. Later we saw the two guys that had been stopped. They had been told by their ministry not to return with their passports, and instead travel on the beach, where the police were not allowed. Most of the locals we have talked to say that bribery is a fairly standard part of business transactions. This seems not only frustrating but immoral and definitely prompted many conversations between the Kylee, Todd and myself about how not to become bitter towards the culture because of it. Last night though, Julie told us that 50 meticais is one day’s wage here. So, there is an atmosphere here where people make $60 US a month, if they are lucky enough to find work at all. $60! A fraction of what I make in ONE DAY. There are many structural evils here that breed things like bribes, theft and violence. Knowing the more personal moment to moment absolute struggle of the people here has helped turn any potential bitterness we could have had to understanding and just feeling compassion for the population here.

Todd

Today was Todd’s Birthday. First thing in the morning, I gave him a card addressed to ‘Old Man Watson’ and sang Happy Birthday. We took a walk along the beach before breakfast, and since it was our first full day in Mozambique, we spent the day in the sand and sun, resting and reading before meeting Kylee again for dinner. Later that night, we split a small chocolate bar to celebrate. The three of us talked about past birthdays at home and what we had done and the great dinner we would be having if we were home now. An email from Mom reminded us again of what a luxury it is to celebrate the day you were born and to have others celebrate it too.
This month has definitely brought us many blessings together. It was sometimes an adjustment to be together every day, in the same ministry, and living with so many people. Living Grace was such a natural fit for Todd, while it took me a bit longer. When I first met him, I recognized that he had a gift for talking to people, to seeing them right where they are. This was such a strength working with the men at LG. Right away, he was in there, leading the singing and even dancing on the table one day. I saw God use him in amazing ways though, in some very serious situations too, where he was able to really help people and also took care of the safety of the place when John was sick. One of the most powerful things I witnessed in the entire month was how he helped to completely change one man, who had previously been a gang leader. To watch this everyday was awesome, to see how Todd was being used while also seeing my own growth. Living Grace was a great place to do ministry together, but also to have the freedom to seek what each of us wanted to do. Other than that, we have been trying to get out once a week alone for a bit of a date. We still start each day by reading God Calling (me) and 1 COR.:13 (him) together. He tells me to go take time alone and relax, makes tea, and one night, spent an hour de-bugging my room. I could have done it myself, but really appreciate the little things done as a gesture for me. Being together so much has made us very conscious of exercising extra patience and care with each other. We want our relationship to be part of our ministry too, to reflect God’s amazing love. We have been trying to take extra care of each other and support each other everyday.

Dream Project

Julie’s ministry is to create small homes for children that model family for them. Mozambique had a civil war that ended in 1994 in which many people died and many children were recruited (abducted) into the army. This, together with the AIDS epidemic here, have left families severely fragmented. Julie’s vision, instead of a large orphanage, was to create families for the children where beyond just getting their physical needs met, they could also go to school, be discipled, and be shown attention, affection and love by adults. Julie has trained three Mozambican staff over the past few years to run the home in her absence. Maria is a beautiful woman who cooks for the kids and takes care of their school uniforms. Maria’s granddaughter is also cared for at the house. Raymond and Domingos are in their twenties and often teach the kids English, do devotionals with them, and take care of their day to day needs. There are 12 boys, aged about 10-17, and a few other boys who are older brothers, that come about two days a week.
Julie is flying standby and hasn’t been able to get a flight yet, so we are waiting for her to arrive. We have met Kylee here, a friend of Julie’s sister who is only here for a week. So today, after a breakfast of mango, banana and cereal, the three of us set out for our walk to the boys home. This takes about an hour, and is a beautiful walk along a sandy road right along the Indian Ocean. By sun-up it is already in the 70s or 80s, but there is always a cool breeze off of the water. We have been having lunch at the home, a heaping plate of rice and beans eaten with our hands. After this today, we went along with Raymond and Domingo, the Mozambican staff, to the market, to help with the shopping and to see how it is done. We bought potatoes and beans, and a few small green bananas as a treat for the boys. Dinner is usually rice and a bit of either egg or meat, usually goat. Right now the boys are on a three week holiday from school, so we’ve been teaching a bit of English, learning a bit of Portuguese, and hanging out, getting to know them a little, and getting used to the culture and our surroundings.

Travel Week: July 12-21

Making our way up the southern coast of Africa, we left Cape Town Saturday, July 12 and travelled for a week up through Swaziland, until our arrival in Mozambique. We travelled by the Baz Bus, a mostly backpacker bus in which you can hop on and off as many times as you wish in seven days. This was such a fantastic way to travel. Days where we had a long duration on the bus (up to 15 hours), we slept, read, and typed up blogs to post later on. We also watched one or two movies as well as the gorgeous coast of mountains, farm lands, orange groves and ocean. Most days we could find accommodations for $10-15 a person, and eat for about $10 a day each. We usually bought bread and jam and fruit and ate that a lot! Thanks Mom for the almond butter- we ate through the jar!
Some Highlights: The first Sunday in a tiny beach town called Knysna, we were at an Anglican church and happened to meet the Consul General of Canada. He and his wife are stationed in Cape Town and were just visiting Knysna for the weekend. He gave me his card in case of emergencies and his wife filled my hands with Canadian flag pins and told me she thought her role was to pass out ‘Canadian propaganda’ in Africa. The SA naval fleet was also attending this church that day!
By far the best food was also the cheapest. Durban, a city along the SA coast, is known to have the largest population of East Indians of anywhere in the world, outside of India. As a result, they also have some of the best Indian food, especially curries. On a recommendation, we went to a vegetarian restaurant that served ‘bunny’. Curried bunny is either a 1/4, 1/2 or full loaf of bread, hollowed out and filled with your choice of curry. The extra bread is served on the side for dipping. It was so good, definitely some of the best food yet. The greatest thing is that a 1/4 bunny only costs about a dollar. Definitely the best highlight of the week was meeting so many amazing people from around the world. We spent hours on the bus and at backpackers hearing so many stories about where people were from and where they had been. We met lots of people, only to meet them again a few days down the road at a different location. We travelled with a few of them. A few Canadians we met were from the East Coast and one was from Winnipeg. It was such an incredible time of relaxing, taking in the country, and processing what life has already brought. Thanks God!

My Place At Grace

I definitely comfortable and at peace here. I think about it more though, who I am, with so many situations where you have to decide who you are and what you want to do. Working at Living Grace was like that too. Todd was quite the star there. He really was at home very quickly, taking an active leadership role and discipling the men, and really making a huge impact. So, that’s not normally me, so I found my own niche. I found over the weeks we were there that I was the one that made sure things were running smoothly in the day to day operation side of the place. It was comfortable and peaceful there and I really enjoyed it and was good at it. One day I cooked for 80 people! Through that too, God brought me different people- people I wouldn’t have been able to talk to if my personality had been different. I did also challenge myself in areas that I wouldn’t normally do, such as giving devotions. I wasn’t too keen about being asked to do it, and felt it was an experience I could to without. In the end, I did it three times, and I actually really looked forward to doing it. Here are a few lines I wrote after a few of these experiences......

Week of June 30-July 4
This week was by far the best yet. John and Joan, the couple who runs Living Grace, were off this week, so Todd and I were left in charge. First thing Monday morning, one of the women, Selena, came in early. Selena is a woman that helps out regularly at LG, washing dishes and cleaning in exchange for a food packet at the end of the day. She is a lovely woman that has developed a trusting relationship with John and Joan. Selena came in drunk at 8:30am, with a black eye. She was with her partner, who she lives with on the street, and she was crying. Joan asked me to come with her as she talked to her in the office alone. Although Selena is able to function fairly well during the week when she is working, she faces a long weekend on Friday, when she will be on the streets until Sunday when LG serves lunch again. To cope, she usually gets drunk on the weekend, which seems to result in her partner abusing her. Selena also shared that she lost her 3 month old baby four years ago to an illness. She has never received any counselling for this. While Joan got Selena coffee and a roll, I talked and prayed with her. In the end, Selena had to leave the centre and come back when she was sober. Unfortunately, that was the last day this week that I have seen her.

Today was my day to cook! It was my first time flying solo in the kitchen. I had to make three huge pots of soup. The difficulty is that you have to work with the ingredients that have been donated, which makes following any recipe difficult. There is also a very limited selection of spices- just salt and some herbs, when they come in from the stores. Today I made a tomato based soup with ground beef, vegetables, and tortellini. I also made a type of chowder with corn and potatoes. Unfortunately, there was no milk to make it creamy. It was a lot of fun to do this today, and made the morning fly by. It was a busy day as a local newspaper was visiting today, which will hopefully be good publicity and maybe bring in more support. We also had a tour from a new church group that just arrived. Abigail, Amelia’s 7 year old daughter, came in with her, so we danced together during the lunchtime singing, me in an opera voice to make her laugh. I was teasing her about loving the cockroaches at LG and starting her own farm.

100's and 100's: Part 1 & 2

The first morning here, we had a meeting with Mandy, in which she told us some of the basics of Living Hope as well as what we could expect over the duration of our stay. She started to share that in her role of taking care of our basic needs, one of the things she likes best about her job was seeing each person’s spiritual growth and how God moved in specific ways in each person. She said that people usually attribute it to being in Africa, but really, it is that people finally give God time and space. As she explained it, “When you are here, there are hundreds and hundreds of luxuries that are stripped from you. Not just your physical comforts, but your friends, your family, your support group. And in that space, God can finally find the time and space in which to speak to you. And when you give Him that, whether in Africa or somewhere else, He can use it to communicate with you.” I have had only some luxuries stripped away. I still have hot, clean water, which I am so conscious of actually being a luxury. Now living again with so many people, it is such a luxury to have my own little space, to light a candle in the morning, make coffee in a french press, and have an hour alone with the Lord. Although I feel so aware of these luxuries, I know that hundreds more will be soon stripped away again when I arrive in Mozambique, where there will only be bottled water for drinking, where illness will be more of a reality, and where more of my freedoms may be inhibited. Already, my consciousness of simple luxuries has been heightened, as well as my gratitude for them. I hope these luxuries will be replaced with an increasing consciousness of the need of others as well as for daily gratitude for all of the luxuries I enjoy without having done anything to have earned them.

PART 2:
Yesterday, I had a cockroach on my pants at Living Grace. I will admit that the difference in hygiene here and the fear of disease (Joan whispering to me to ‘Put some bleach in the dish water-it kills the TB’) is often difficult to face. The first week here, I didn’t eat or drink anything while working; I couldn’t stomach it. Then tonight, I came into my room to see literally hundreds of ants covering the crevasses of my walls, trying to escape the last few days of cold. These are annoying, and mildly disgusting, but rather minor. But the last few nights, I have been waking up in the middle of the night. The first night it happened, I woke to a loud rushing noise. I couldn’t figure out what it was. After a few seconds, I realized that it was the wind and rain. In Cape Town, the wind is really fierce, coming off of both oceans and because it is rainy season, we get sideways rain, very nasty stuff. I couldn’t believe that it was the weather that was making such a wild noise. Through the last few days of extreme weather when I have been waking, immediately the people of Living Grace have come into my mind. As I lie there listening, I can’t believe that people are actually out there on the street. I wonder where they can possibly stay to avoid getting soaked, it is so terrible out. I know I could not cope. I have prayed for them, and their communities, for a few short minutes before returning to sleep. It has reminded me of again of the concept of luxuries, what each individual considers a luxury, and how that changes and evolves with circumstances. I now eat the soup that is served each day at LG, although I still bring my own spoon and bowl. When cockroaches appear, I have developed a little song and dance that I do on them to kill them, which makes the staff laugh. Although I have adjusted somewhat to different standards of living, I still feel these are minor, and don’t really involve too much sacrifice of personal comfort. The biggest change is just in my awareness of the contrast between my own level of living and comfort and the level of those that that I spend every day with.

Townships

The morning we arrived, as we drove from the airport, we passed our first slum. I remember thinking ‘we can’t actually be going in there.’ Of course, we were going to go in there, as that is where most of Living Hope’s work is done. So, in terms of geography, there is the main city of Cape Town, surrounded by a variety of nicer suburbs, one of which is Noordhoek, where we stayed. The suburbs are nicer homes, all surrounded by fence (some electric) and all guarded by a minimum of 2-3 large dogs. These neighbourhoods are safer, but it is still unadvisable for anyone to walk after dark (right now about 6pm). The people that live in these suburbs are mostly white Afrikaaners, descendants of the Dutch that colonized SA. The Afrikaans language is therefore very similar to Dutch. Our particular area had many families that owned horses, many of which employ black or coloureds as maids, gardeners and cooks. The terms ‘black’ and ‘coloured’ are not considered derogatory here, but used by the people to describe themselves.

In amongst these suburbs are townships. Some of these are black townships, people that I guess would be considered the original African population. Here the people mostly speak Xhosa, one of the African languages that use a variety of clicking sounds. Other townships have strictly coloured populations. The coloured people in SA have a history in which white men, often Dutch, that were sailing around the Cape Peninsula ended up sleeping with local black women. This created a culture in which many coloured familes seem plagued with infidelity and fatherlessness. Coloureds speak English and Afrikaans, and we’ve been told that coloured Afrikaans is a little different, sort of like a slang Afrikaans, or a little less proper. In most of these areas, coloureds, blacks and whites don’t mix, not even 14 years after the end of apartheid. One exception to this is the township of Red Hill. This is a rural area in the mountain that was once privately owned. Twenty-five years ago, people began moving from different parts of SA to look for work. The owner of this land let these people ‘temporarily’ settle there. Now this area has three separate camps, of which only received electricity and water a year ago. Apparently the government is trying to improve the situation there, but if and when that happens is sketchy at best.

The government has had its hand in most of these townships. Many were actually created by the government during apartheid years, where coloured or blacks were resettled. Then the numbers living in the townships just exploded after that. Although apartheid has ended, the townships have not really changed. Last weekend, a bunch of us were driving out to Stellenbosch, to visit the local wine farms. It was beautiful country, with lots of sand dunes along the ocean. We came over a hill and all went silent. Ahead of us was Khayelitsha, the second largest slum in SA. We couldn’t see the end of it. The tin shacks were so tightly packed, we couldn’t see the dirt road in between them. We drove in, just for a few minutes. There were fires burning, portable bathrooms outside, and garbage everywhere. All of the roofs had things like concrete or shoes on top to make sure they didn’t blow off in the wind. Later we found out that Khayelitsha is 17 square kilometers and has roughly 1.2 million people living there. One of the most sad and astonishing things is that has virtually just popped up in the last 3 years, which gave us an idea of the desperate nature of the situation and also the horrible conditions people must live in there. In Canada, it takes at least 6 months to build one home. How do over one million people take over an area in such a short time?

From what we know and have seen, conditions in the townships are severe. Some estimates are that 90% of some townships are HIV positive. Obviously, with people living in such close quarters other diseases are also rampant. Many areas are controlled by gangs and are filled with drugs. Meth use, called Tick here, is especially a problem, as it can be made with common substances, but is very dangerous. It seems from talking to local women that rape is a prevalent problem, although numbers are unreliable. I would suspect that part of the problem is that the homes barely have doors, so there is no security for these people. Anyone could enter your home, with minimal trouble. Violence is common. It is completely unsafe there at night, and some people will not go in during the day hours either. Police will go in there if they are called.

There are a few other things that we have learned about the townships, but that I won’t write about here. I will email a few pictures, but to be honest, I haven’t taken many there. One reason for this is that no picture that I’ve taken really captures the conditions of these areas. Primarily though, it always feels a bit like a zoo when driving through there and people are pulling out their cameras. So, that explains why there seems to only be pictures up of what we are doing on the weekends. Sight seeing pictures don’t really communicate the experience here, but there seem to be the easiest to take and explain.

Ahhh...

We woke yesterday morning to an amazingly warm and sunny day, with the songs of Muizenberg in our hearts. I find that they are constantly in my head, the songs we sing there everyday, and I think this must be one of the best ministries they provide to the men, worship songs to take with them. I am so full of gratitude to God for all He has done in the last month. We boarded the Baz Bus, a backpackers bus that will take us along the southern coast of SA through Swaziland up to Mozambique. This will be an amazing week in itself, as we will travel for the next 9 days, meeting new people and seeing a landscape of beaches, vineyards and mountains, as well as stopping in such places as Zulu Land. I am also looking forward to this being a week of processing so much that has already happened in Cape Town as well as a week for transition in looking forward to Mozambique. I will likely be posting quite a bit this week, so keep an eye on the blog site!