Fan Park

I am in South Africa during the 2010 World Cup, and as such, I have to experience what a south african world cup should feel like, so for the opening ceremonies, we went to Mbali, one of the townships, for what is called a “Fan Park” They set up a Big Screen and a stage in a soccer field at the local college, and have live music and stuff when the game isn't being shown, everyone dresses up in the south african colours and wears flags and stuff and playing their vuvuzelas (the plastic horns that annoy you when you watch the soccer game).
The whole game was one big party, everyone was hanging out having fun, then Bafana Bafana (the name of the african team) scored a goal, and everyone went crazy! Everyone was jumping up and down screaming, blowing their vuvuzelas, and hugging for like 5 minutes.
It was a good game, and even though we didn`t win, we still tied, which is a moral victory when bafana is playing mexico.

Connie's Kitchen

My one of my favourite Zulu foods are fat cakes, which is a deep fried ball of dough that you eat with processed cheese and polony. The best place to get them in maritzburg is a small whole in the wall restaurant called Connie's Kitchen. It is a popular hang out place in maritzburg with pool and a tv to watch the soccer games, and is always noisy.

After hearing about this place for months, I wanted to check it out, so when a friend of mine was going there, I tagged along. I should say point out here that everyone at Connie's Kitchen is black, and a big white guy walking into the restaurant with a small black girl is awfully peculiar. We got there, and as we entered the restaurant everyone suddenly went silent. We walked up to the counter and ordered 2 combos, the girl behind the counter asked me if I was having one of them, when my friend said yes, the last table still making noise, suddenly went silent. We paid for our food then left, as we exited the door, the buzz of activity suddenly returned.

This experience taught me what it is like being the minority in a situation, which is something that I have never truly understood before (I'm male, white, north american, etc). It felt really weird and awkward, strange, but it was still kind of funny.

Oh, a week or two later a friend of mine told me that when he went in there a couple days after my visit, they told him about the white guy that had been there earlier. It's nice to know that I am known.

1 more round

There are exactly 2 months left in my time here, and more and more there are references to me coming home, whether it's me and Ruth booking tickets, or it's an e-mail from Darrel about saying goodbye, and reorientation expectations (which even though I am team communicator, I had to get through kyle), and more and more I don't know what to think about going home. On one hand I miss my family and friends, and I can't wait to go to Tyndale next year, but on the other hand, I have made so many good friends since coming here, that I don't want to leave behind.

sometimes I'm just ready to go home, it's so close to the end, and I'm tired, and I'm just ready to quit. During morning prayer this morning, I was really tired, and couldn't concentrate on what we were praying about, and all I could think about was going home. I know this is bad, I still have 2 months here, and I can't afford to check out yet, and then my brain started to sing a Barlowgirl Song (called one more round)

So take me one more round
I'll just keep fighting
One more round
You're messing me up but I'm still here

So I'm here, and I'm not checking out yet even though it would be so easy to. I'll be home soon, and then I'm sure I'm going to miss it here, so here's to pushing through the next two months.

One more round
I'll come out swinging one more round
I'm telling you now I'm not gonna lose it here

Cape Town

So from the 15th to today I was on vacation. From the very first week we gothere everyone told us that we had to go to Cape Town, so after 7 and a half months of people telling us this, we've finally broken down and taken the 15 or so hour drive to Cape Town.

We tried to leave at 10 am in the morning, but the Shop took too long for our Car to be repaired, so we weren't sure when we were going to leave. At three o'clock, the car was ready and we drove to bloemfontein, where we stayed the night with Pastor Irvin, who is really Cool. He basically ran our convention (which you can read about in anna's blog).

The next morning we drove the remaining 12 hours to Cape Town, we got to Pastor Hilton's house with Just enough time to grab a bite to eat before going to Youth. At youth they had a World Cup Tournament on Bible Trivia focusing on the book of Matthew. They had us join the teams. I was assigned to one of the teams that lost the week before. we ended up winning that night.

The next day some of the youth took us around town, took us to the ocean, out for ice cream, and out for supper for fish and Chips.

The next day we went to church at the NZMI Church that Pastor Hilton started in cape town. we listened to Mother Rhoda preach, which was really cool.

we then spent the next two days driving around cape town, hanging out. it was really cool, we saw the penquins, the spot where the two oceans meet, as well as an awesome sun set.

we drove to Jeffery's Bay, spent a night in a Back Packers (basically a motel, or B&B)

We then drove to Mthata where we stayed at the sawatsky family's house. unfortunately our plans crashed with plan they forgot they made, so we stayed at their house while they were at a meeting with the Sudermans (colleagues of ours here in PMB). We watched an entire season of Friends, made popcorn and went for a picnic of a course of 2 days

Then we drove the rest of the way home today, overall it was great.

and yes it is only 2 1/2 months left in my time here.

Sisyphus and prayer

In Greek mythology there is a story of Sisyphus. Sisyphus dies, and goes to Hades where he has to push a boulder up a hill before he can go to the land of bliss, but just as the Sisyphus reaches the top of the hill, the boulder slips and rolls back to the bottom, so he has to do it over and over again.
This story came to mind yesterday as I was carting bricks around church property for the third time, and it would be easy to feel like we are being treated like sisyphus. We are constantly being asked to do the same job multiple times either because they need something moved, or we weren't told about a step part way through the job. so the job get's done over and over and over again.
But as I thought about the repetitiveness of the tasks that we are given, I realised that it wasn't pointless doing the same job over and over again. Doing the same job over and over again creates repetition the same way monks recite scriptures in latin over and over again. IT allows allows my mind to wander and for me to contemplate and work out with God my theology, my insterests, my beliefs, my feelings, my calling and my very existence.
Currently God's working out my calling. Yesterday during brick moving, God reminded me of a promise that I had forgotten from years ago that he had made me. He reminded me that my education will be in pastoral ministry because it's going to prepare me for what he has planned for me, but that full time pastoral ministry as I see it, preaching in a church every sunday, isn't what he's calling me to. I had forgotten this, but he reminded me. I still don't know what the call is for me, so I guess I'll have to dig some holes or something.
I'm still not sure what he's going to with my life, I guess I'll just dig some more holes

who am I?

Last night I had a question pop into my head that I didn't know the answer to. Who am I?

you see, all through high school, I was one of few evangelical christians at my school. So it was easy for me to know who I was, and what my purpose was, to get people to be more than just social activists, and to be more passionate about loving God.

Then I joined this program, and spent a month at Jesus People, where we all were all trying to be open, and honest, and just trying to follow Jesus every way we knew how. and I was on Cloud Nine, possibly even ten.

Once we got here to PMB, our church's youth are passionately on fire for christ, and trying to spread the word every way they know how. Evangelizing is done by others who know how to evangelize, and have an opportunity to evangelize (I don't know anyone here who is not christian). But now I'm one of a few socially conscious christians in a sea of evangelicals. Everyone here is really excited about following christ, but don't seem to know that this has social consequences (read irrestible revolution, or Jesus for President both by Shane Claiborne). And I try to be christ's love, to others through my daily walk.

But that isn't defining me like the opposite did back in high school. And I now that I'm conscious of it, I don't know how to define myself, I'm me. I'm a six on the anneagram (see blog from september), but that doesn't really explain much more than tgat I try to be as dependible for others as possible. I don't know what my gifts are, because the thing that I was once so focused my energies on no longer defines me. I no longer know what makes me, me.

any thoughts?

Mthata

This past weekend we went down to Mthata for a visit with the Sawatsky Family.

Mthata (pronounced UmThata) is located in the eastern cape, it's the birth place of nelson Mandela, and is where the Sawatsky Family is.

The Sawatsky Family comprise of Joe and Anna, and their sons Isaac, Moses, Levi, Jesse. Joe and Anna work with Bethany Bible College, a school that works with African Instituted Churches (churches founded in Africa, not connected to a western denomination). This past weekend they had a conference about Farming Gods Way (no tilling, no burning, crop rotation) with James and Joan Alty (the MCCers, I talked about them in an earlier blog entry).

So We drove in on Friday, And slept at a back packers (kind of like a bed and breakfast, but no breakfast). The next day we had a walking tour of Mthata, and then went to the conference for a little while.

The next day we went to Church in Mandela Park. Mandela Park is an old farm, that Nelson Mandela made availible to the poor to build on. We went to church in a small one roomed building, sitting on plastic chairs, singing a capella in Xhosa. It was really cool. Joe preached about Abraham's Journey, and how he prepared the way for his children (he traveled from Babylon to Canaan to Egypt, opposite of his descendants that traveled from Egypt to Canaan to Babylon). And he spoke about how we are called to prepare the way of the Lord.

On monday, we went to see the Nelson Mandela Museum, which apperently used to just be a collection of Gifts that he's recieved from different people, but about a year ago got revamped, and now tells his lives story. I found it interesting and kind of sad, that the Man the world looks to as a symbol of Reconciliation is the one who decided to arm the ANC. As well, when he was in prison he had the opportunity to be released if he would disarm them, but he refused, continuing to use violence as a means to an end.

We then went home and made donuts/ the girls made skirts, and watched a dvd of Michael Jordan's final Basketball game with the Bulls, which was awesome.