Today was another ‘Cape Town Adventure’…this time while heading back home from the preschool in Khayelitsha. This morning I drove myself, the two Warehouse interns and two young visitors from Australia all squished into my newly borrowed VW Citi (my previous car was only on loan for just 3 months...so now the Lord provided this car which belongs to a friend’s brother who is living overseas).After a typical morning of serving at the Preschool...playing with kids, copying worksheets, serving lunch, singing etc., we were tired and ready for lunch.
As we drove away, probably a mile from the school...my accelerator pedal broke! I put my foot to the ground and there was no more pedal??The car just drifted to the side of the road.It was the strangest thing I have ever felt and couldn’t understand what had gone wrong.We were now stuck on the road…a car full of white faces, in a black township and a confused driver who was trying not to panic. We called the Warehouse but there was no one available to help…then thankfully I remembered that I had Linda’s (the principal of the preschool) number on my phone.Linda is never at the school on a Wednesday, but for some reason she had been there today…it was my first time seeing her in 3 months.She immediately answered her phone and said she would get help.None of the teachers drive and there are only a few cars in the whole neighborhood so I was expecting to have her walk to us.I now began to wait, in a car full of hungry teenagers, with many curious faces peering in on us as they walked by.
About 20 min later Linda pulled up in a car with her cousin, and the cousin’s son who was driving (they just so happened to show up at the school for a visit right after we left…coincidence, I think not!). The young guy came and looked at the pedal and started to fiddle around…I still have no idea what he did but he fixed it?! It was so the Lord!I quickly asked him to show me what he did so I could fix it if I got stuck again…he said there was an old piece that kept two parts together that crumbled off due to old age...he then went to the side of the road and began looking through a heap of garbage...I had no idea what he was doing, but he came back with a piece of Styrofoam that he used to make a new part?? What ever he did it worked and we were soon to be on our way!Then, the scariest part of the afternoon was when I asked my new mechanic friend to do a test drive with me to make sure the car was running fine…so I gave him the keys and I slid in the passenger’s side.Let’s just say I was anxious to get back at the wheel!This young man admitted to me that he had recently learned how to drive in just two days (!)…we drove to the stop sign at the end of the street and then he did a u-turn in the middle of a 4 way stop!
Well, sooner or later we were back on our way…heading away from the CapeFlats and towards the majestic TableMountain.Oh, and the ride home went smoothly, except for the goat I nearly ran over…thankfully that adventure was saved for someone else!
Today I’m on a mission…my goal – to pick up my extended Visitor’s Visa at the downtown Home Affairs office. As any local would tell you, this is often a scary endeavor! Like in many other countries when it comes to customs, permits, visas and passports…its no easy matter and God’s peace and patience is definitely needed!
In the past I have traveled only 10min from my house to the Wynberg office…but it has recently closed down so they have sent me downtown…to traffic, busy streets, mobs of people and simply utter chaos! I attempted to come down here early Saturday morning…woke up well before my normal Saturday rise, and drove 20min into town to be there when the building opened. However, after finding a parking place and being yelled at by a drunk homeless man…I arrive at the door to find a stern faced woman who told me they are closed on Saturdays…WHAT?! I asked why it says they are open on Saturdays on the website…she just shrugged and looked away. Obviously it wasn’t her problem. As the Lord does…he did turn the mishap into good and I drove down to the waterfront and had a nice long walk on the SeaPoint promenade only a few minutes away.
Well, as I write at the moment…Monday afternoon, I am currently sitting in the Home Affairs building, on the second floor, in the queue to pick up my visa…well at least I think it’s a queue? I was told to sit here but in all honesty have no idea what I’m doing…nor do the people around me. I have been sitting for at least one hour already! The ‘funny’ thing is though there is no one behind the counter…I am with a mass of people waiting for no one! Sometimes there is an individual behind another counter, but at times they leave too…and sometimes there isn’t a single worker in the entire room with over 100 individuals cramped in and confused. Everyone is anxious, tired and like me probably hungry (I should have eaten before I came!) I have just made friends with a girl named Alberta, sitting in front of me…she is from Holland, 20 years old, in an internship… and like me is extending her visa. It makes the time go a bit faster as I chat with her.
The time keeps clicking away on my clock…and the tension in the room grows…only about 6 people in front of me is a guy who has been here over 2 hours…I keep saying that if he gives up and leaves I will do the same…but I continue to stand firm. I have no plans this afternoon so what do I got to loose (other than my sanity!)
I’m reminded as I wait of the many others around the world who WAIT daily…waiting for more crucial things that a visa. Lord forgive me for complaining! I know there are men, women and children everywhere who wait for healthcare, medication or to see a doctor. I can’t imagine carrying a sick child in my arms while waiting for help! I sit her with a book (which I’m fortunate to read), with a phone (which I can ring friends on)…and with a God who I know is sitting right besides me in the midst of this crazy room. Lord bless those who wait around the world this very minute…give them your peace!
Suddenly out of nowhere, after almost 2 hours, a woman emerges and asks for 5 receipts (which we have come to turn in, in exchange for our visa). Not respecting the so-called queue…people push their way forward! Alberta and I jump up feeling the injustice after waiting so long and seeing people who have just arrived shove their papers forward. We were now ready by the counter for the next 5 and began to stand like un-wavered trees…I almost lost it and was going to take off but thankfully held in there. Finally, the lady came back and Alberta and I literally pushed ours into the next pile. We then went to another queue to wait for our name to be called. I was enjoying getting to know Alberta and asked if she ever wanted to go to church with me…she said yes, so we exchanged phone numbers and I know we will probably see one another again soon. God certainly has his unique plans! About 20min later I was holding my newly stamped passport in my hand…gave Alberta a hug and walked out the door. I texted my housemates “Victory…from Hell”. Wow, glad I won’t have to do that for awhile…I guess 2 and half hours wasn’t too bad. Another day in Africa…right?!
A new addition to my week has been tutoring a precious 6 year old boy named Sipamandela.His name means “Give us Power”.Sipamandela is the son of my good friend Nokuzola from church.I met Nokuzola shortly after I arrived in Cape Town, and had the privilege of staying in her home for an overnight last August.She runs a small bed and breakfast business (giving up her bedroom to guests), which allows foreign visitors to experience the township life and culture.She is a single mother of two children, Tembisa (16) and Sipamandela.They are a very sweet family and love Jesus very much.
Last month Nokuzola approached me with the humble request to tutor her son who is struggling in school (taking the first grade for the second time).Due to my love for her and the flexibility in my week, I of course agreed…but initially hesitating a bit as I had never done this before.Would his work be in English?Would he understand me?Could I give him the specific tools and practice that he needs?Well my doubts were quickly depleted.Now, every Tuesday at 4:30pm I drive out to “TamboVillage” the neighborhood where my church is located to spend time with Sipamandela.We do some basic math problems, practice the English letters and sounds, practice writing his name and simple words…and then read lots of books.Each week I bring with me a big bag of Children’s Books and he gets to pick a few for me to read.I love reading to children…it is honestly one of my greatest joys.Thank you Jesus for giving me this new opportunity!
I left this past week filled with joy as I realized that I have now memorized all 50 of the boy’s names!This remains a powerful tool…especially as I am now able to greet them personally and call out those that are misbehaving or not listening!I have started a good routine of spending the morning slot, 8:30-10:00 with one class, and the afternoon slot from 11:30-12:30 with the other.The hour and a half between is lunch & outside play with all the boys.The boys who didn’t see me in the morning are certain to make sure at recess that I will going to class with them.Once seated around the circle inside I always have many little boys fighting over who gets to sit by me (I must say that still being a single woman, having boys fight over me, despite their age, feels like a compliment!).
My favorite time of the day is recess for I can catch up with the teachers, talking about our lives and getting to know each other more deeply.I had a great chat with one of the assistant teachers named Tina the other day.She asked how I was earning money while I was here, and I was able to tell her about living on faith, and some of the incredible stories of how Jesus has provided for me.It was a sweet moment and I could see her fascination in my lifestyle.I also love immersing myself in play with the boys…not simply just standing guard and supervising, but actively playing with them…children come alive when they recognize that an adult is stepping down to their level…into their world.A few weeks ago I let the boys bury me in the stand pit, but only up to my knees.Of course, as you can imagine, one or two buckets made their way on my lap and shirt…and I wasn’t too happy when a small bucket full ended up in my bra! They love to be chased, tickled, pushed on the swing, watched, and especially listened too!These are the many reasons why Jesus has me here!
Khayelitsha Crèche:
Unlike SACS, I have not learned any of these children’s names yet.Language continues to be a barrier and I am never with a single child for more than a few minutes.However, I am proud to say I have recently memorized all the teachers’ Xhosa names!This just shows that at SACS right now Jesus is using me more for one on one time with the children, and at the Crèche more one on one time with the teachers.
Every Wednesday I continue to load up my car, with different woman volunteering at The Warehouse, and travel 45min into the CapeFlats to the vast township of Khayelitsha.It has been a difficult month for a few of the teachers.A few weeks ago we showed up to the news that Nombongo (the 4 year old teacher), was away from school as her brother had been arrested.It wasn’t until the following week that we heard he had burned down the shack of a local witch doctor, in retribution of a curse, and a child was accidentally killed (he is now in prison, possibly for life)…horrible spiritual situations such as this one happen daily here!The community rallied in anger and unfairly turned against this young man’s entire family.Nombongo is now forbidden by the community to come back to the Crèche and teach!Rumor has it that she has moved...fearing her safety.I will most likely never see her again.Her departing words a few weeks ago keep ringing in my ears… “I love you guys”. Jesus protect this young woman and her family…may you bring justice and love into this situation!
The day I showed up to the Crèche to find Nombongo gone, was also they day I met Nikkolo (the new 4 year old teacher)…it was her first day and she looked rather wide-eyed at the out of control group of 40 four year olds under her care!My friend Lara and I stepped in the best we could.I pulled out every song I could think of from my preschool memory tank and did my best at entertaining the unsettled group.At one point the many children craving some personal attention began to pull at my arms and then my skirt.So many bodies were around me and pulling at me that I could feel my legs give way and I actually fell to the ground!The children thought this was hilarious and I had to tag team with Lara for the rest of the morning to try and pull off the kids that were now deliberately trying to push us over.Later, the art activity for the day was getting the children’s hand print (in runny paint) on a piece of paper…this was clearly not my idea!There was absolutely no order!Can you imagine one bowl of red paint and forty little hands pushing and shoving, trying to get in at the same time?Paint was dripping on clothes, on the floor and all over other children’s artwork.Remember I don’t know the language…and these little ones with their teacher gone were not listening to “NO” and “STOP”!
At one point during that day as I looked around at these precious children, I began to feel overwhelmed…holding back tears I thought, “Jesus what can be done?...These little ones need so much love and attention.They are desperate for love…and I find when I am with them that I am desperate for more of You…desperate to hear Your voice and to be obedient to Your call." Later that night I wrote in my journal:
“There is so much loss and injustice around me here in South Africa, that it often gets overwhelming...thinking that the needs and pain I see in peoples lives is too much to bear...but Jesus continues to LOVE through me...giving me the strength to be his hands and feet, and proclaiming the faith and hope that he brings.”
I have never been one to share my faith or pray for strangers on the street…but last week I was challenged to do just that. Walking up to strangers and asking them if I can pray for them is definitely outside my comfort zone, but the fact that I was in Khayelitsha, (the largest township in Cape Town) and one of the few white faces within miles added to my initial discomfort. I was joined by my former London church, Christchurch Fulham who was in Cape Town for a week doing ministry at a church in Khayelitsha. One early evening, before the service we walked down to the train station with the local pastors to invite people to the service and pray for them. It was rush hour, the hustle and bustle of people coming home from work…African taxis were hooting their horns, women with babies securely fastened on their backs rushed by and children of all ages loitered among the crowds. We stopped on a street corner…a group of white ‘foreigners’! As I saw the more courageous team members step out and begin to pray for people I knew in my spirit that I needed to be bold and do the same. I went up to the nearest stall, which was selling cool drinks and snacks, and said hello to the individuals working behind it. I started making small talk with one woman, telling her why we were here and also telling her where I had come from. I asked her if she had any children, not an unreasonable question as most women my age here have many of their own children…but she was very shy in her response as she quietly said one and then walked away. I was thinking to myself, “Oh great this is going well.” The man behind the counter was very friendly and we quickly struck up a conversation. He was a member of the new political party, Congress of the People and proceeded to talk for ages on politics and some interesting insight on where he feels like his country is going. I then asked him for his opinion on Obama which added to another long conversation. Obama is well loved here, and I have found that I can talk about him with anyone. To be honest, most Africans know more about my President than I do! After a while I told my new friend that I was here with a group praying for people and inviting them to the evening service at the church around the corner. The woman I had previously talked with then immerged behind the counter…The man said to me, “This woman would like prayer, she has no husband and is going to have a baby.” At that moment, I walked over to the woman and found out her name was Sarah. She did want prayer…so right then, admits the busyness of life going around us I grabbed her hands and began to pray for her…asking the Lord to bring her a husband who would care for her and also a healthy delivery for her baby. No wonder she was a bit unsettled when I first asked her if she had children…for there was so much fear and uncertainty surrounding the little child she was carrying. After our prayer, the man said to me… “Take some chips”…I looked at this humble stall and said “No thank you, I don’t have any money on me”…he said, “No it is a gift” and proceeded to hand me my favorite bag of chips/crisps. I then felt something else in my hand and when I looked up Sarah had placed an entire packet of biscuits/cookies in my palm…another generous gift that I couldn’t refuse. At that moment the group I had walked with was leaving and I quickly said my Thank Yous and Good Byes. I was beaming with joy. Did I just hold hands with a precious woman and have the opportunity to pray for her…was I just blessed by two people who generously gave all the had…was I experiencing the joy of breaking out of my own fear? I may never see those two ever again…I may my never know if Sarah meets a man and delivers a healthy baby…but what I do know is that I serve a God who loves those two very much…a God who knows everything about them! I am continually reminded that as I step out of my comfort zone, I am met with unbelievable experiences.
