"It always seems impossible until it's done." --Nelson Mandela
I can't believe I'm writing this, but my IQP is complete. It feels like I've been here forever, yet where has all the time gone?
We finished our field work last Friday, and this past week has been a frenzy of writing and editing as we compiled our final documents recording the progress that we've made (you can explore our project here!!). It was one of the hardest weeks of my life, but I am so proud of my team and how hard everyone has worked. There was lots of stress, laughter, and even some tears. Yet somehow, we submitted the last of our assignments Wednesday night, our final presentations were yesterday, and now after 14 weeks of work, we are done.
The day that we left, all the residents and staff of Sizakuyenza prepared a lunch for us to say thank you and celebrate all of the things we'd accomplished together. All the research and planning in the world could not have prepared me for this part of the project. Nobody can explain to you what it feels like to tell a little girl that no, you won't be coming back tomorrow, or to hear everyone express their gratitude to you when you feel like you should be the one thanking them, or to look around and realize that you're seeing this place for the last time. I kept on thinking about the very first time that we had lunch with the residents, and all that had happened between that first day we met and the day we were saying goodbye. It felt like we went from the first meal and the last meal far too quickly. I think part of me still hasn't realized that I'll never be back there, I'm still thinking I may go back on Monday ready to paint another room or tackle another project in the yard. The house mother, social worker, and one of the residents made speeches for us to say thank you for everything, telling us how they would remember us forever and that we would be so blessed for our giving. All I could think is, we are the lucky ones. We are the ones who should be saying thank you. God was so good to me to give me the opportunity to share life with these people, even just for a short while.
Then yesterday we got to reunite again, for a little while. Almost all of the residents came with the two house mothers, and many brought their children along as well. So when our turn came to present, we had children sleeping (and snoring) in front of us, and each woman giggling and pointing excitedly whenever she saw a picture of herself in our Power Point. Final presentations for IQP are often a very formal affair, but this one felt so casual and organic--it may have bothered some people, but I couldn't have loved it more. I looked at the rows in front of me and saw a beautiful, quirky, strong, incredible quilt of a family. And they consider us family too.
Saying goodbye was one of the most heartbreaking things I had ever done. One of the kids who hadn't left my side all afternoon began to cry, not understanding why her mom was pulling her away from me. Of course, I was already crying along with several of the women and other members of my team. Andisiwe, the social worker at the safe house, gave each of us a frame with a quote on the front and handwritten notes and Bible verses on the back. Mama Pilisani refused to say goodbye, only "Until next time." It's painful to think that "next time" might not be until we all get to heaven. But my heart is full with the idea of getting to spend eternity with some of the people I've met at Sizakuyenza--whose faith has strengthened me, hope has inspired me, and love has forever changed me.
My journey in Cape Town is coming quickly to a close. (I haven't been able to blog here nearly as much as I wish I could! I'm sorry that the wifi situation hasn't been conducive to me sharing my thoughts on everything too often, and I haven't been able to post pictures for several weeks now. Can't wait to update you all soon!) In only a couple days I will be getting on a plane and heading back to the United States. This experience has changed me, I hope. I have worked harder than ever before, motivated by love for some of the strongest people I have ever met. I have always wanted to travel the world ad help people. This has shown me how incredible, and difficult, that can be. I don't know what the future holds, but during these two months this is exactly where God wanted me. I am so sad to leave and so excited to go home at the same time. For the moment, I am trying to just celebrate all that has been accomplished (through me, but also in me) and savor every moment in this amazing place for the little time that I have left.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 7, 2014
Reminders and Lessons (and sometimes after 29 comes 40)
Our projects are quickly coming to a close, and as our deadlines come closer the workload has intensified. Our team has finished painting the interior of the safe house and are now finishing projects outside. It has brought me into a whole new realm of work way beyond my skill set! I find myself digging, hammering, sanding, and gardening--I even learned how to use a saw the other day. I have definitely realized that it is okay not to know what you're doing all the time; fortunately I have a supportive and talented team who are there to help (and to fix my mistakes when necessary!).
This describes the past week in a nutshell, from my journal:
I spent Friday shoveling with two nine year olds, digging holes for our playground structure. There was some sort of building collapse in Johannesburg, so Philippi and many other areas are having their power rationed. It was one of those days that reminds you where it is you're working--power shuts down, only Mama Pilisani knows why, and nobody knows when it will be on again. Our team was stressed because it meant that we could not use some of the tools necessary for the tasks we were trying to accomplish before the weekend. This inconvenience faded away for me when one of the woman responded to our questions about the power--"I don't know when it will be on again. I just hope it comes back before dinner time, or we will go to bed hungry. We need the electricity to cook, and we can't afford to go buy KFC." (Side note for context, KFC is by far the most popular fast food chain here, and there is one right down the street from the safe house). I couldn't stop thinking about this as I ate my meal that night. Although we are working under impressive conditions, considering the area that the safe house is in, it is a stark reminder of the difficulties they face.
Some days, the work here seems hard. We are pulling long hours and working our butts off, in the hot sun and the constant wind, only to come home for hours of debating in meetings or writing and editing material. There is constant stress, because we so badly want to succeed in our project yet we simply can't fix everything that we'd like to. Some mornings I wake up just not feeling ready to do it all over again--feeling tired, missing home, and more physically exhausted than I can ever remember feeling before.
But the, something always happens. God is always sending me reminders of His love and of His plan--that this is exactly where He wants me to be. Friday, it was a little girl whose name I can't pronounce. She followed me around almost all day, constantly seeking my attention and affection. She's young and her English is not very good, so most of this was just hugs and smiles, and showing off her "toys" (a garden shovel, a tire cast aside, a piece of string, etc.) At one point, I was shoveling the last of the holes for the playground. I was feeling hungry and tired, my group was stressed and my two nine year old "helpers" for shoveling had gone to find something else to do, and I felt so deeply frustrated I wanted to just quit. But then my little girl came along, so happy and excited to show me how she could count in English. As I worked, I focused on the numbers in her beautiful, melodic voice: "...28! 29! 40! 41! 42! 43! 45! 45! 45! 47! 48! 49! 70!"
I couldn't help but smile. Her counting wasn't perfect, but it was done with such enthusiasm that I couldn't bear to correct it. How could I complain about being tired when I have the opportunity to love such beautiful kids? How could I feel frustrated when I get to be a part of improving their recovery?
We only have one week left for field work at the safe house. Although it's been a ton of work, I can't believe our time is almost finished. God is teaching me so much through them. These women and children have been betrayed and hurt by what they thought was love. Yet True Love brings them back to the joy and peace and hope they thought was never coming back. They sing worship songs in Xhosa and tell me how their faith is sustaining them through a darker time than I have ever experienced. He is teaching me to see what is around me, not just to feel guilty about it but to love as deeply as I can. He is showing me what it means to work as hard as I can, motivated by love and purpose. He reveals Himself every day through the beauty of the landscape, and even more through the beauty of the people.
This describes the past week in a nutshell, from my journal:
I spent Friday shoveling with two nine year olds, digging holes for our playground structure. There was some sort of building collapse in Johannesburg, so Philippi and many other areas are having their power rationed. It was one of those days that reminds you where it is you're working--power shuts down, only Mama Pilisani knows why, and nobody knows when it will be on again. Our team was stressed because it meant that we could not use some of the tools necessary for the tasks we were trying to accomplish before the weekend. This inconvenience faded away for me when one of the woman responded to our questions about the power--"I don't know when it will be on again. I just hope it comes back before dinner time, or we will go to bed hungry. We need the electricity to cook, and we can't afford to go buy KFC." (Side note for context, KFC is by far the most popular fast food chain here, and there is one right down the street from the safe house). I couldn't stop thinking about this as I ate my meal that night. Although we are working under impressive conditions, considering the area that the safe house is in, it is a stark reminder of the difficulties they face.
Some days, the work here seems hard. We are pulling long hours and working our butts off, in the hot sun and the constant wind, only to come home for hours of debating in meetings or writing and editing material. There is constant stress, because we so badly want to succeed in our project yet we simply can't fix everything that we'd like to. Some mornings I wake up just not feeling ready to do it all over again--feeling tired, missing home, and more physically exhausted than I can ever remember feeling before.
But the, something always happens. God is always sending me reminders of His love and of His plan--that this is exactly where He wants me to be. Friday, it was a little girl whose name I can't pronounce. She followed me around almost all day, constantly seeking my attention and affection. She's young and her English is not very good, so most of this was just hugs and smiles, and showing off her "toys" (a garden shovel, a tire cast aside, a piece of string, etc.) At one point, I was shoveling the last of the holes for the playground. I was feeling hungry and tired, my group was stressed and my two nine year old "helpers" for shoveling had gone to find something else to do, and I felt so deeply frustrated I wanted to just quit. But then my little girl came along, so happy and excited to show me how she could count in English. As I worked, I focused on the numbers in her beautiful, melodic voice: "...28! 29! 40! 41! 42! 43! 45! 45! 45! 47! 48! 49! 70!"
I couldn't help but smile. Her counting wasn't perfect, but it was done with such enthusiasm that I couldn't bear to correct it. How could I complain about being tired when I have the opportunity to love such beautiful kids? How could I feel frustrated when I get to be a part of improving their recovery?
We only have one week left for field work at the safe house. Although it's been a ton of work, I can't believe our time is almost finished. God is teaching me so much through them. These women and children have been betrayed and hurt by what they thought was love. Yet True Love brings them back to the joy and peace and hope they thought was never coming back. They sing worship songs in Xhosa and tell me how their faith is sustaining them through a darker time than I have ever experienced. He is teaching me to see what is around me, not just to feel guilty about it but to love as deeply as I can. He is showing me what it means to work as hard as I can, motivated by love and purpose. He reveals Himself every day through the beauty of the landscape, and even more through the beauty of the people.
(Belated) Thanksgiving
I have been battling lack of strong internet (and even more, lack of time!) since Thanksgiving break! So this is a post of catching up, I wrote it over Thanksgiving weekend and am just getting the opportunity to publish it--hopefully the internet holds up!
Thanksgiving this year was not quite like any that I have experienced. We spent the weekend at Kruger National Park, one of the largest reserves in Africa. It's been something that we have been looking forward to throughout all our preparation and time here, yet it was still difficult to see friends' pictures of going home for Thanksgiving and be so far away. It's not my first Thanksgiving being away from home (I've spent a few in Guatemala now or getting ready to leave), but it was the first time I have been away from my family.
That being said, safari was one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had! We saw the Big 5--elephants, lions, water buffalo, leopards, and white rhinos--as well as zebras, giraffes, hippos, hyenas, birds, kudus, and (SO many) impala. It's cool enough to see these animals at a zoo or reserve in the States, but seeing them in the wild it was hard to imagine this being real life.
When people picture Africa, I think many of them imagine what seems like the end of the earth, with lions and elephants roaming the streets. At Kruger, that's pretty much what it was like! We had dinner in the bush our first night there, with a man standing guard with a shotgun because we had seen hyenas driving up to the camp! Friday morning we saw lions eating a buffalo carcass, fighting off vultures and hyenas who were also hungry for the meat. My favorite moment was when a whole herd of elephants crossed the street right in front of our truck--everything was quiet, all you could hear was their feet hitting the pavement, and it was the most intense yet peaceful moment I could have ever experienced! We had a lizard in our room and I saw insects the size of my pointer finger. In short, it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life! God's creation is amazing, and I never realized it more than that weekend.
Kruger embodies many of the ideas that people have about Africa, yet having been to the continent twice now, I am amazed by the vast difference that there is between two nations on this continent. I shouldn't be surprised--different regions of the United States have completely different landscapes and cultures (think Hawaii vs Montana). Morocco and Cape Town are about as far apart on the continent as two places could be. It amazes me that people could think of Africa as one giant slave ship, one giant safari, one giant Ebola or AIDS crisis. During our summer preparation for this project, we watched a TED talk on Africa's rediscovery of its "true greatness." One of her most profound statements was that "Africa is not a village." This shatters the typical view of Africa that the rest of the world often has. Both in Morocco and here in Cape Town, I realize daily how different the world is from our perceptions. It's amazing how homogenous we perceive entire regions and continents to be. How much does this cheapen the unique beauty that God has given to each country, each community, and each person? To treat them as if they were all the same is to lessen their importance in our estimation.
As far as Thanksgiving goes, I am so thankful this year. First, I am thankful that the Lord has given me this opportunity, to learn from some of the most incredible people I have ever met. I am thankful that He loves me enough to be patient with me and love me through this. I am thankful for my amazing family--there is no way that I would be here without them. I am thankful for every single person I have met here, and for all of the people supporting me and praying for me back at home. I am thankful for all of the things God blesses me with every day, things I so often take for granted: food, clothing, electricity, clean water, plumbing, living in a relatively safe and definitely comfortable area.
It is hard to be here and to balance being thankful with being guilty. Every day we drive into Philippi, where people more often than not don't know where their next meal is coming from. They live in conditions that I truly could not imagine. When it's time to go back to the lodge at the end of the day, my heart feels heavy walking away from a situation that is so far beyond my control. I wonder what they think of me, a privileged American coming to help--does it seem insincere, when they know I get to go back to live in luxury at the end of the project?
I guess the best thing that I can compare it to is the story of the Good Samaritan. When he saw a person that needed help, he stopped and did what he could. But he was not the one who nursed the Jew who had been beaten back to health--that was the innkeeper. There was someone else, not the Samaritan, in a better position to provide long term help. I feel like this project is my opportunity to stop at the side of the road. To finally DO something about conditions I feel are not okay, for people who could use hope and love. But I'm not going to be the one who heals them--eventually, I have to turn over the reigns to someone else and trust that God is the Ultimate and Perfect Healer. And I know He merits my trust, He is faithful. For that, I can really give thanks.
Til Later,
Sam
Thanksgiving this year was not quite like any that I have experienced. We spent the weekend at Kruger National Park, one of the largest reserves in Africa. It's been something that we have been looking forward to throughout all our preparation and time here, yet it was still difficult to see friends' pictures of going home for Thanksgiving and be so far away. It's not my first Thanksgiving being away from home (I've spent a few in Guatemala now or getting ready to leave), but it was the first time I have been away from my family.
That being said, safari was one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had! We saw the Big 5--elephants, lions, water buffalo, leopards, and white rhinos--as well as zebras, giraffes, hippos, hyenas, birds, kudus, and (SO many) impala. It's cool enough to see these animals at a zoo or reserve in the States, but seeing them in the wild it was hard to imagine this being real life.
When people picture Africa, I think many of them imagine what seems like the end of the earth, with lions and elephants roaming the streets. At Kruger, that's pretty much what it was like! We had dinner in the bush our first night there, with a man standing guard with a shotgun because we had seen hyenas driving up to the camp! Friday morning we saw lions eating a buffalo carcass, fighting off vultures and hyenas who were also hungry for the meat. My favorite moment was when a whole herd of elephants crossed the street right in front of our truck--everything was quiet, all you could hear was their feet hitting the pavement, and it was the most intense yet peaceful moment I could have ever experienced! We had a lizard in our room and I saw insects the size of my pointer finger. In short, it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life! God's creation is amazing, and I never realized it more than that weekend.
Kruger embodies many of the ideas that people have about Africa, yet having been to the continent twice now, I am amazed by the vast difference that there is between two nations on this continent. I shouldn't be surprised--different regions of the United States have completely different landscapes and cultures (think Hawaii vs Montana). Morocco and Cape Town are about as far apart on the continent as two places could be. It amazes me that people could think of Africa as one giant slave ship, one giant safari, one giant Ebola or AIDS crisis. During our summer preparation for this project, we watched a TED talk on Africa's rediscovery of its "true greatness." One of her most profound statements was that "Africa is not a village." This shatters the typical view of Africa that the rest of the world often has. Both in Morocco and here in Cape Town, I realize daily how different the world is from our perceptions. It's amazing how homogenous we perceive entire regions and continents to be. How much does this cheapen the unique beauty that God has given to each country, each community, and each person? To treat them as if they were all the same is to lessen their importance in our estimation.
As far as Thanksgiving goes, I am so thankful this year. First, I am thankful that the Lord has given me this opportunity, to learn from some of the most incredible people I have ever met. I am thankful that He loves me enough to be patient with me and love me through this. I am thankful for my amazing family--there is no way that I would be here without them. I am thankful for every single person I have met here, and for all of the people supporting me and praying for me back at home. I am thankful for all of the things God blesses me with every day, things I so often take for granted: food, clothing, electricity, clean water, plumbing, living in a relatively safe and definitely comfortable area.
It is hard to be here and to balance being thankful with being guilty. Every day we drive into Philippi, where people more often than not don't know where their next meal is coming from. They live in conditions that I truly could not imagine. When it's time to go back to the lodge at the end of the day, my heart feels heavy walking away from a situation that is so far beyond my control. I wonder what they think of me, a privileged American coming to help--does it seem insincere, when they know I get to go back to live in luxury at the end of the project?
I guess the best thing that I can compare it to is the story of the Good Samaritan. When he saw a person that needed help, he stopped and did what he could. But he was not the one who nursed the Jew who had been beaten back to health--that was the innkeeper. There was someone else, not the Samaritan, in a better position to provide long term help. I feel like this project is my opportunity to stop at the side of the road. To finally DO something about conditions I feel are not okay, for people who could use hope and love. But I'm not going to be the one who heals them--eventually, I have to turn over the reigns to someone else and trust that God is the Ultimate and Perfect Healer. And I know He merits my trust, He is faithful. For that, I can really give thanks.
Til Later,
Sam
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