September 28 - October 2, 2008
This entry brings us through the South African Bible College (SABC - but commonly referred to as SABS (South African Bible School)) Lectureship: “Spread the Flame”.
We left Maseru and headed toward the border. The body wasn’t meeting that morning because so many people were leaving. They had planned an evening worship so we just packed up and left. The plan being to meet some of the members from Maseru there and caravan to Johannesburg where the school is. Turns out they left late and the line to get through immigration at the border was long and we passed through a shorter line (“ignorantly”) and pressed on. 5 hours later we’re driving in the hustle and bustle of busy Joburg. We didn’t arrive at the Benoni Church of Christ until after the opening ceremony had started but not much was missed besides the formal initiation words and the singing on the anthem. Oh yes, that song we all know and love so well . . . 728b.
A sermon, some singing, bread and wine, and formal introductions all accomplished in a fairly short time span. Team 1 had driven up (or some of them) with Shawn Fortuin from Fairview CoC and we followed them to the school. Mike and I got a dorm room to ourselves and went to sleep. The next morning we turned in a voucher we had purchased for breakfast. Mind you, there’s isn’t a fancy cafeteria there, it’s just a big pot of oatmeal, hot water for coffee or tea, and some other dishes for your dining pleasure. I will now give you a basic overview of each day at the lectureship:
8:30 - breakfast
9:00 - opening lesson and dismissal of youth to alternate building for separate lessons
9:15-11:30ish - class, quiet time, small group, and singing (for the youth classes that we worked with)
11:30 - lunch break
12:00 - return to classroom for afternoon session
12:00-14:00ish - final session
14:00is-19:00 - time to be spent as one wills
19:00 - Meeting of all people involved with the lectures at the Benoni CoC building for worship, sermon, and evening closure
Now I may not be remembering the times correctly but that’s just about how it went. The first day I didn’t go to youth and sat in on some of the men’s classes that were really well done. The rest of the time I was in the youth room and headed a small group. Daniel was the book that was gone over through the week. Luke Wright from Oklahoma, USA did the class and I enjoyed his approach so much. He covered the first 6 chapters and presented in a way that wasn’t drab or boring but it was easy to relate to. I’d sit in on those classes again if I could.
The week was encouraging and lots of swell things happened. Someone found Dr. Pepper at the Spar down the road (regrettably I didn’t have one) and we contacted and met some great brothers and sisters from the northern part of Suid Afrika. One day at lunch a man named Freddy Mayala came up to me and just asked for my email out of the blue. I had never really talked to him but recognized his cute children that I had played with the day before. So, now I’m in correspondence with him and at least one other student at the South African Bible College.
This young girl was struggling up the steps and I helped her with her bag only to find out that I would be staying at her house in Swaziland just a week later. God has a funny way of connecting His people young, old and otherwise. Glorious.
Jerry Hogg. Someone to note. This man has been on the board, a teacher, and administrator at SABC for a number of years and is now going back to Texas, USA to work with Sunset as the ambassador (some position name here) to all of the African extension schools. There are currently 17 and he will be overseeing and working with them all. I look forward to hearing about the work God will be doing through Him.
KCK
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Day 3 of the Big Trip
Day 3 - September 27, 2008
I wake up with a shiver and pain in my back that doesn’t allow me to get back to sleep. I had a car pillow and and a shirt on within my sleeping bag. It was chillier than I thought it would be, and my faith in my nice mummy bag was slightly crushed. So I get out of it and grab my bag to take a hot shower. Upon arrival at the “Ablutions” house I knew it was going to be interesting. I turn on the shower hopeful yearning that there will be hot water. The four streams of trickle coming from the head disappoint me and I’m reminded of Paul.
“I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.”
At this point I just got wet and got out. Now I realize how early it is and how no one else is awake. I sit outside the roudavel that Ken, Judy, Barbara and Sandra are staying in due to a faulty bed in their original room. Looking across that lake with the sun just peaking over the hills I find myself saying, “Thank You. Thank you God for giving me today to live and allowing me to be in Lesotho right now.” The Kite Runner pops into my mind and I decide to retrieve it from my tent, along with my Bible. After a few chapters in each book I decide to head back to the roundavel and get a cup of coffee. The wait continues, but only for a few minutes this time (I find it rude to knock on an elders door in the morning). A cup of coffee, boerwors and eggs, cereal, and juice grace my appetite. It was a late breakfast but we weren’t expecting a rough day ahead.
Everyone got up and tried to shower but Maseru was going through a water crisis and nothing came out of the tap. No hot, no cold. No nothing (enjoy that double negative father). So, after nobody came to get us we decided to go to town on our own. If you’ve ever been in Chicago during peak traffic times then you’ve experienced a minor dose of Lesotho drivers. I’ve heard stories about the Sri Lanka drivers and seen the people in Mexico city run around. I had the opportunity to drive and watch people step out in front of cars, miss a bumper by centimeters, look at the sidewalk and see a line of people 40 deep to get to the ATM, and try to follow Judy through it. Animals wander freely here and there but mostly it’s just packed and the turn arounds are a lot of fun. If there’s a space a car will fill it, and it doesn’t matter what direction that car is going compared to what direction you’re going. No one really yelled or got angry that I saw. They’ll just honk their horn to be noticed and press in to get on their way.
Once we got to the tourist center by the center of town (I think) we parked and took a look around. Before we even got out of the cars ladies came over to us and wanted us to by Basotho hats. This is probably a cultural insult but they look like the rice patty hats of China. Similar, but a little more ornamental and colorful. Of course, Mike, Ken, and I bought one. Across the street to the tourist information center we went. We looked around for a bit, some of us bought things from the ladies sitting outside making trinkets to sell, and eventually we found ourselves in the gift shop across the street. A few purchases were made and we decided to head back to the roundavel HQ right before Tabs (one of the members of the church body in Maseru - there are four congregations I believe) showed up with the family in his kombi (a VW van or one of similar size) and we conversed for a little while. Diana went with them to get water from the Shop-rite and the rest of us went to the camp.
It was now lunch time. Grilled cheese, 4x2 soup, milk, water, and juice. It was delicious and quite satisfying. But really, it was bound to happen that as soon as comfort set in it would be taken away. Tabs and Diana walk down the path to the door and come in. Tabs announces that his neighbors daughter is graduating from University and he wants us all to be there. . . NOW. Well, who are we to deny someone there wishes when their daughter has accomplished something? No one. We gave the rest of the sandwiches to the kids in the kombi and headed out. Down a dirt road that needed at least 8 inch clearance from the bottom of your car to the ground we trekked (we didn’t have that clearance) and arrived at Tabs house where we met Elizabeth (a very sweet old woman who would eventually give us African names), Tabs’ wife Jacquie (an ex-AIMer and very neat person who makes traditional African outfits) and the rest of their children and friends. We sat around and made formal introductions. After everyone was fairly comfortable with each other we went to the neighbors’ party.
And what a party. Never in my life have I experienced a graduation like that one. At the first house we entered to a traditional song and yell going on. It was something else. Women yodel/ee-ee-ee-eeing, men singing, and food for all after. After the meal there was a toast for the graduate and we said our farewells.
The second party was significantly larger. It seemed the entire neighborhood (plus family and the town drunk) showed up for the festivities. Two large tents had been erected in the front yard. One for guests, and the other for food and the honorary table. People were talking and waiting. The graduate wasn’t even there when we arrived. After 15 minutes the tribal yells began and in she rolled. Things settled down after much embracing and loud chatter and organized speeches started. They were quite nice ... I think. They were all in Sotho, minus Ken’s. This was what was interesting. The man, whom none of us knew, asked Ken if he would say a few words and Ken politely obliged. It was a very nice speech thanking them for sharing their traditional ways with us and encouraging the graduate with adoration for her accomplishment and constant trust in the Lord. The camera lady who recorded this all I had payed no mind to until we found out his little speech had made Lesotho national television. What a star!
We returned to Tebs and Jacquie’s house for a few moments only to head over to another families home for a braai. The exhaustion was evident in all of us as we lay around falling asleep and trying to look enthusiastic. I felt bad because we couldn’t bring much energy to the table. It was very nice all they did for us in Lesotho.
That night we went back to the tent and I did not get chilly. Four shirts, two pants, socks, and gloves are what I donned as I crawled into my Mammoth mummy bag. It was warm and oh so comfortable. It’s a shame that there was barely enough water for a decent shower in the morning.
It was an educational day and I’m so glad that God gave us the opportunity to meet some of his people in Lesotho. We met them again at SABS. But that is for another night.
KCK - ILY
I wake up with a shiver and pain in my back that doesn’t allow me to get back to sleep. I had a car pillow and and a shirt on within my sleeping bag. It was chillier than I thought it would be, and my faith in my nice mummy bag was slightly crushed. So I get out of it and grab my bag to take a hot shower. Upon arrival at the “Ablutions” house I knew it was going to be interesting. I turn on the shower hopeful yearning that there will be hot water. The four streams of trickle coming from the head disappoint me and I’m reminded of Paul.
“I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.”
At this point I just got wet and got out. Now I realize how early it is and how no one else is awake. I sit outside the roudavel that Ken, Judy, Barbara and Sandra are staying in due to a faulty bed in their original room. Looking across that lake with the sun just peaking over the hills I find myself saying, “Thank You. Thank you God for giving me today to live and allowing me to be in Lesotho right now.” The Kite Runner pops into my mind and I decide to retrieve it from my tent, along with my Bible. After a few chapters in each book I decide to head back to the roundavel and get a cup of coffee. The wait continues, but only for a few minutes this time (I find it rude to knock on an elders door in the morning). A cup of coffee, boerwors and eggs, cereal, and juice grace my appetite. It was a late breakfast but we weren’t expecting a rough day ahead.
Everyone got up and tried to shower but Maseru was going through a water crisis and nothing came out of the tap. No hot, no cold. No nothing (enjoy that double negative father). So, after nobody came to get us we decided to go to town on our own. If you’ve ever been in Chicago during peak traffic times then you’ve experienced a minor dose of Lesotho drivers. I’ve heard stories about the Sri Lanka drivers and seen the people in Mexico city run around. I had the opportunity to drive and watch people step out in front of cars, miss a bumper by centimeters, look at the sidewalk and see a line of people 40 deep to get to the ATM, and try to follow Judy through it. Animals wander freely here and there but mostly it’s just packed and the turn arounds are a lot of fun. If there’s a space a car will fill it, and it doesn’t matter what direction that car is going compared to what direction you’re going. No one really yelled or got angry that I saw. They’ll just honk their horn to be noticed and press in to get on their way.
Once we got to the tourist center by the center of town (I think) we parked and took a look around. Before we even got out of the cars ladies came over to us and wanted us to by Basotho hats. This is probably a cultural insult but they look like the rice patty hats of China. Similar, but a little more ornamental and colorful. Of course, Mike, Ken, and I bought one. Across the street to the tourist information center we went. We looked around for a bit, some of us bought things from the ladies sitting outside making trinkets to sell, and eventually we found ourselves in the gift shop across the street. A few purchases were made and we decided to head back to the roundavel HQ right before Tabs (one of the members of the church body in Maseru - there are four congregations I believe) showed up with the family in his kombi (a VW van or one of similar size) and we conversed for a little while. Diana went with them to get water from the Shop-rite and the rest of us went to the camp.
It was now lunch time. Grilled cheese, 4x2 soup, milk, water, and juice. It was delicious and quite satisfying. But really, it was bound to happen that as soon as comfort set in it would be taken away. Tabs and Diana walk down the path to the door and come in. Tabs announces that his neighbors daughter is graduating from University and he wants us all to be there. . . NOW. Well, who are we to deny someone there wishes when their daughter has accomplished something? No one. We gave the rest of the sandwiches to the kids in the kombi and headed out. Down a dirt road that needed at least 8 inch clearance from the bottom of your car to the ground we trekked (we didn’t have that clearance) and arrived at Tabs house where we met Elizabeth (a very sweet old woman who would eventually give us African names), Tabs’ wife Jacquie (an ex-AIMer and very neat person who makes traditional African outfits) and the rest of their children and friends. We sat around and made formal introductions. After everyone was fairly comfortable with each other we went to the neighbors’ party.
And what a party. Never in my life have I experienced a graduation like that one. At the first house we entered to a traditional song and yell going on. It was something else. Women yodel/ee-ee-ee-eeing, men singing, and food for all after. After the meal there was a toast for the graduate and we said our farewells.
The second party was significantly larger. It seemed the entire neighborhood (plus family and the town drunk) showed up for the festivities. Two large tents had been erected in the front yard. One for guests, and the other for food and the honorary table. People were talking and waiting. The graduate wasn’t even there when we arrived. After 15 minutes the tribal yells began and in she rolled. Things settled down after much embracing and loud chatter and organized speeches started. They were quite nice ... I think. They were all in Sotho, minus Ken’s. This was what was interesting. The man, whom none of us knew, asked Ken if he would say a few words and Ken politely obliged. It was a very nice speech thanking them for sharing their traditional ways with us and encouraging the graduate with adoration for her accomplishment and constant trust in the Lord. The camera lady who recorded this all I had payed no mind to until we found out his little speech had made Lesotho national television. What a star!
We returned to Tebs and Jacquie’s house for a few moments only to head over to another families home for a braai. The exhaustion was evident in all of us as we lay around falling asleep and trying to look enthusiastic. I felt bad because we couldn’t bring much energy to the table. It was very nice all they did for us in Lesotho.
That night we went back to the tent and I did not get chilly. Four shirts, two pants, socks, and gloves are what I donned as I crawled into my Mammoth mummy bag. It was warm and oh so comfortable. It’s a shame that there was barely enough water for a decent shower in the morning.
It was an educational day and I’m so glad that God gave us the opportunity to meet some of his people in Lesotho. We met them again at SABS. But that is for another night.
KCK - ILY
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Day 2
Day 2 - September 26, 2008
Another beautiful, God given day. Wake up at 5:30 a.m. for two of the girls to shower. Since the accommodations were made on the spot last night and options were limited our team stayed in the same room. Mike, Diana, and I got our own twin to sleep on while Sasha and Tara shared a queen. Truly an interesting bonding experience. It’s nice to be able to just bunk down and go though.
Once we woke up and packed up we made our way to number 21 for breakfast. It was quick and we hopped out the door to pack up the boot and hit to road. Smooth traveling is something that people here don’t always believe in. Mind you, the bush people either ride horses, drive bakkies, or walk everywhere. So our little Opel Astra (which is the nicest car on the team - the girls’) was just a little bumpy. The pavement ended and we hit the dirt. Thank God for traveling mercies. This was our drive to Lesotho. Before we hit the border we went 8 kilometers too far and had to turn around. But just two hours after leaving Aliwal North (where we spent the night) we hit the Lesotho border. Just over the border we hit blacktop again and the speed quickly picked up. Up and over a hill we encounter a radar trap. Two uniformed men sitting on a wall, one guy waving us down in the middle of the road, and another man standing beside a radar on a tripod. Miss Judy politely apologized and I didn’t even have to say anything, they just waved us on. A few hours later we hit Maseru.
Back country. When you put the canyons of Nevada, the desert of Arizona, and the black people of Africa who cope with where they are you get Lesotho. Now it’s typical for the shepherds and lots of people to wear a Basutu blanket. The people are Basutu, they live in Lesotho, and they speak Sotho. So as well drove along dodging cows and sheep we saw the people. Children smiling and waving at the white people in the white cars, people at the bus stops as we drive buy, and the markets swarming with those who are looking to make a purchase. The people are wonderful though. Friendly faces, outrageous drivers. Think of peak traffic, and then think of peak traffic that’s barely regulated. Aggg man.
Right now we’re at a campsite in Maseru by the Northwestern border. After visiting the church we plan to head up to Joburg for the SABS lectureship. Our time here is only a few days but I will soak it up. Contact has been made with one of the church members and sometime tonight we expect a call. The youth are going to come and we will be spending tomorrow with them as well. Since the call hasn’t come yet, we may just nix the night and settle in.
The sun is setting across the mountains and the landscape is indescribable. I must leave you at this and join my comrades with a cup of tea and God’s splendor.
KCK
Another beautiful, God given day. Wake up at 5:30 a.m. for two of the girls to shower. Since the accommodations were made on the spot last night and options were limited our team stayed in the same room. Mike, Diana, and I got our own twin to sleep on while Sasha and Tara shared a queen. Truly an interesting bonding experience. It’s nice to be able to just bunk down and go though.
Once we woke up and packed up we made our way to number 21 for breakfast. It was quick and we hopped out the door to pack up the boot and hit to road. Smooth traveling is something that people here don’t always believe in. Mind you, the bush people either ride horses, drive bakkies, or walk everywhere. So our little Opel Astra (which is the nicest car on the team - the girls’) was just a little bumpy. The pavement ended and we hit the dirt. Thank God for traveling mercies. This was our drive to Lesotho. Before we hit the border we went 8 kilometers too far and had to turn around. But just two hours after leaving Aliwal North (where we spent the night) we hit the Lesotho border. Just over the border we hit blacktop again and the speed quickly picked up. Up and over a hill we encounter a radar trap. Two uniformed men sitting on a wall, one guy waving us down in the middle of the road, and another man standing beside a radar on a tripod. Miss Judy politely apologized and I didn’t even have to say anything, they just waved us on. A few hours later we hit Maseru.
Back country. When you put the canyons of Nevada, the desert of Arizona, and the black people of Africa who cope with where they are you get Lesotho. Now it’s typical for the shepherds and lots of people to wear a Basutu blanket. The people are Basutu, they live in Lesotho, and they speak Sotho. So as well drove along dodging cows and sheep we saw the people. Children smiling and waving at the white people in the white cars, people at the bus stops as we drive buy, and the markets swarming with those who are looking to make a purchase. The people are wonderful though. Friendly faces, outrageous drivers. Think of peak traffic, and then think of peak traffic that’s barely regulated. Aggg man.
Right now we’re at a campsite in Maseru by the Northwestern border. After visiting the church we plan to head up to Joburg for the SABS lectureship. Our time here is only a few days but I will soak it up. Contact has been made with one of the church members and sometime tonight we expect a call. The youth are going to come and we will be spending tomorrow with them as well. Since the call hasn’t come yet, we may just nix the night and settle in.
The sun is setting across the mountains and the landscape is indescribable. I must leave you at this and join my comrades with a cup of tea and God’s splendor.
KCK
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