So, I thought I'd chronicle my latest conversation with a South African man ... this one had a witness, so you can know that I'm not lying about the fact that this happens to me often here.
I have to set the stage for this one ... I'm out with Deb (the Child Haven "gogo", or grandmother). I've just finished my shift at Baby Haven, and I didn't change my clothes or shower ... which means my hair's back in a ponytail, I've got a baby food stained hoodie on, no makeup and I'm tired.
She's had her day off and we're dropping her off at the house so that I can take the car for the weekend. She decides to stop off at the gas station down the street and top off the tank. While the guy is pumping her gas, he starts wiping the windshield and staring, trying to get my attention ... and I instinctively want to say "Take a photo, it will last longer!" but refrain from doing so in order not to draw attention to what he's doing.
As he comes back to the car with her receipt for the fuel (all gas stations are full-serive here in S.A.), he leans back and tell her:
"I have a lot of cows."
She looks a bit puzzled, and says, "Cows? You have a lot of cows?"
At this point, I'm thinking that surely he's not about to do this with her in the car.
"Yeah, I have a lot of cows." He says, while looking at me. "So I can pay the lebola."
(For those of you that don't know, this is the "bride price" that African men pay to the family of the woman that he takes as his wife. In past times, it would've been in cows because that's how wealth was measured. If a girl only has one child, she's worth so many cows. If she's a virgin, she's worth more cows. If she's a virgin and has an education, she's worth even more. The idea is that he compensates her family for what she would have contributed had she not married.)
At this point, I speak up because I can tell that Deb has no clue what he's talking about. "So, you have a lot of cows? That's good ... now all you need to do is find a girl."
To this he replies, "I have found one. You."
"Um, naw dude ... I'm not available."
After asking me what I said because he didn't understand my American English, he says, "Let me see your ring finger ... you don't have a ring on it. That means you're available."
"No, that does not mean I'm available. So sorry, man, you'll have to find someone else to give your cows to." I really wanted to say that my daddy wouldn't be interested in your cows ... what he'd want to see is your university degree and your paycheck stub. But, I didn't.
"We can be friends. There is nothing stopping us from being friends." To Deb he says, "Tell her. We can be friends."
At this point my friend Deb tells him that she's not telling me anything and starts to drive off. He continues to talk with her, though, trying to convince her to talk to me so we can be "friends".
What in the world???
N'kosi Sikelel i'Afrika ...
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
twins
Yet another change in my thinking ... I think I could manage life with newborn twins.
I can remember a time when the thought of holding or caring for a newborn would've freaked me out. I mean, I can remember my brother and the Loewens handing their newborns to me (because I would never volunteer to hold them). With my brother, he basically threw the kid at me before I left for university without holding him. Yeah, strange thing, fear. I guess I thought I would drop them or hurt them somehow.
Now, caring for the newborns is a highlight of my day. There's no potty training or battling of wills. There's no throwing of food or biting of siblings. Life is about trying to keep them awake so they sleep at night, feedings, nappy changes and figuring out why they're doing that new baby wail ... smooth sailing.
So, I think I could manage life with twins if I were to have kids. I won't think about life when they hit the "terrible" twos or when they're in high school ... or when they're going off to University at the same time. I figure that's all the cost of having children, right?
I have to admit that I also wasn't prepared to love these little ones like they're my own. But, I do. And I count that as a gift from God.
I can remember a time when the thought of holding or caring for a newborn would've freaked me out. I mean, I can remember my brother and the Loewens handing their newborns to me (because I would never volunteer to hold them). With my brother, he basically threw the kid at me before I left for university without holding him. Yeah, strange thing, fear. I guess I thought I would drop them or hurt them somehow.
Now, caring for the newborns is a highlight of my day. There's no potty training or battling of wills. There's no throwing of food or biting of siblings. Life is about trying to keep them awake so they sleep at night, feedings, nappy changes and figuring out why they're doing that new baby wail ... smooth sailing.
So, I think I could manage life with twins if I were to have kids. I won't think about life when they hit the "terrible" twos or when they're in high school ... or when they're going off to University at the same time. I figure that's all the cost of having children, right?
I have to admit that I also wasn't prepared to love these little ones like they're my own. But, I do. And I count that as a gift from God.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Culture Clash
I meet so many people here who are quick to slam Americans because we don’t know our geography. For instance, when I told some people that I was going to South Africa to do missions, a few people asked me “What country?” (revealing that they didn’t know that South Africa was a country, not just a region).
I tell them it’s true, many Americans are ignorant when it comes to countries outside of North America. For instance, many assume that Brazilians speak Spanish because they are in South America (assuming they know that Brazil is in South America) or don’t realize that countries like Antigua, Guinea-Bissau and U.A.E. even exist (let alone where they are).
However, I’ve gotten the blank stare from people in South Africa when I say my family is from the West Indies (usually followed by “where is that?” or “is that in Africa” or “but you don’t look Indian”) and I even had someone recently ask me if Somalia (which is struggling with a severe food shortage at the moment) was in the States (um … huh?).
So, when people start slamming my country and my people, I don’t get patriotic and slam them, I simply remind them that most people tend to focus on their area and reality … and point out that those of us who enjoy travel and cultures have a broader scope of interest. Just because we can find Djibouti, Kazakhstan, Cyprus or Nagaland on a map doesn’t make us more intelligent or less ignorant. We still don’t know everything.
Also, I was having a fun conversation with someone at church last night and he was imitating an American accent. Makes me laugh so hard!!! Then he said something about "nekked" ... I couldn't contain myself. What in the world?!?! I had a flashback to rednecks in Tennessee talking about going skinny-dipping. Lord ... have ... mercy!
I tell them it’s true, many Americans are ignorant when it comes to countries outside of North America. For instance, many assume that Brazilians speak Spanish because they are in South America (assuming they know that Brazil is in South America) or don’t realize that countries like Antigua, Guinea-Bissau and U.A.E. even exist (let alone where they are).
However, I’ve gotten the blank stare from people in South Africa when I say my family is from the West Indies (usually followed by “where is that?” or “is that in Africa” or “but you don’t look Indian”) and I even had someone recently ask me if Somalia (which is struggling with a severe food shortage at the moment) was in the States (um … huh?).
So, when people start slamming my country and my people, I don’t get patriotic and slam them, I simply remind them that most people tend to focus on their area and reality … and point out that those of us who enjoy travel and cultures have a broader scope of interest. Just because we can find Djibouti, Kazakhstan, Cyprus or Nagaland on a map doesn’t make us more intelligent or less ignorant. We still don’t know everything.
Also, I was having a fun conversation with someone at church last night and he was imitating an American accent. Makes me laugh so hard!!! Then he said something about "nekked" ... I couldn't contain myself. What in the world?!?! I had a flashback to rednecks in Tennessee talking about going skinny-dipping. Lord ... have ... mercy!
Friday, April 18, 2008
S. A. Men
I never cease to be amazed with conversations that I have with South African men. Sometimes I walk away with such a greater appreciation for the men in my own country ... wait, let me rephrase that: sometimes I wonder if they're part of the same species as the men in my own country and realize how much I love the men from my own hemisphere.
This is a conversation I had with the guard who raises (manually) the boom at the security checkpoint into my neighborhood today:
(As I approach the stop sign, he waves for me to get closer and leans on the car by the driver side window, big smile on his face)
"You live here?" (he asks, even though he's seen me drive through here several times a week over the last four months)
"Yep." (my response)
"What number?"
"150."
"150. (pause here ... as if he's processing and picturing the house) Oh, you live with Caroline?"
"Yep."
"Oh, okay. (slight pause) Are you married?"
"Nope."
"You have a boyfriend?"
(Those of you who know me well can imagine my face right now ...) "Kind of."
"What? Kind of?"
"Yep, kind of. He's in the States." (Yeah, I lied because I just didn't feel like doing this today ... I see this guy several times a week and life would just be easier if I said there was "someone" in the States. I had someone in mind, too, if he'd ask about him ... sorry Jason! I'm fast running out of single guys in my age bracket and you popped in there first.)
"Oh, I see. You have any kids?"
(Once again, I'm not able to control my face ...) "No."
"Why not? How old are you?"
"Because I don't want any right now and I'm 32."
"Ohhh, you need to have some kids." (Big smile continues on his face. You know the smile that guys give you when they're looking you up and down? Yeah, that one.)
"No, I'm okay, thanks. Um, would you mind opening the boom so that I can go through?"
"Oh, okay."
I don't know why I continue to be amazed. It's not like I haven't had this conversation before ... I've had worse ones. Three things stand out to me about this one, though, that are not new to me.
Number one, that he would feel that our relationship is developed enough that he has the freedom to ask all of these question and tell me what I need to do.
Number two, that he was fishing for information to see if I was available ... seriously, not even remotely a possibility. But, the men here like to cast their nets wide and try to capture the attention of any female within a ten feet radius ... I think it increases their odds of success.
Number three, that the only function of a woman in this society for many of these guys is to have sex with them and birth babies (without any kind of formal commitment is not at all uncommon).
I'm kinda at the end of being treated like an object. I'm sooo ready to spend time with men from my own hemisphere now, thanks! At least they attempt to have conversations with you about other things, even if they are only interested in one thing.
But, I praise God for the ones who aren't just interested in one thing, but who I genuinely have a great relationship with.
This is a conversation I had with the guard who raises (manually) the boom at the security checkpoint into my neighborhood today:
(As I approach the stop sign, he waves for me to get closer and leans on the car by the driver side window, big smile on his face)
"You live here?" (he asks, even though he's seen me drive through here several times a week over the last four months)
"Yep." (my response)
"What number?"
"150."
"150. (pause here ... as if he's processing and picturing the house) Oh, you live with Caroline?"
"Yep."
"Oh, okay. (slight pause) Are you married?"
"Nope."
"You have a boyfriend?"
(Those of you who know me well can imagine my face right now ...) "Kind of."
"What? Kind of?"
"Yep, kind of. He's in the States." (Yeah, I lied because I just didn't feel like doing this today ... I see this guy several times a week and life would just be easier if I said there was "someone" in the States. I had someone in mind, too, if he'd ask about him ... sorry Jason! I'm fast running out of single guys in my age bracket and you popped in there first.)
"Oh, I see. You have any kids?"
(Once again, I'm not able to control my face ...) "No."
"Why not? How old are you?"
"Because I don't want any right now and I'm 32."
"Ohhh, you need to have some kids." (Big smile continues on his face. You know the smile that guys give you when they're looking you up and down? Yeah, that one.)
"No, I'm okay, thanks. Um, would you mind opening the boom so that I can go through?"
"Oh, okay."
I don't know why I continue to be amazed. It's not like I haven't had this conversation before ... I've had worse ones. Three things stand out to me about this one, though, that are not new to me.
Number one, that he would feel that our relationship is developed enough that he has the freedom to ask all of these question and tell me what I need to do.
Number two, that he was fishing for information to see if I was available ... seriously, not even remotely a possibility. But, the men here like to cast their nets wide and try to capture the attention of any female within a ten feet radius ... I think it increases their odds of success.
Number three, that the only function of a woman in this society for many of these guys is to have sex with them and birth babies (without any kind of formal commitment is not at all uncommon).
I'm kinda at the end of being treated like an object. I'm sooo ready to spend time with men from my own hemisphere now, thanks! At least they attempt to have conversations with you about other things, even if they are only interested in one thing.
But, I praise God for the ones who aren't just interested in one thing, but who I genuinely have a great relationship with.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Kalk Bay
I’m such a slacker! I just realized that I never shared photos from my Kalk Bay visit with the Mankes and MacGowans! Sorry about that!
The view from where I was staying (Media Village)
Me with friends, new and old!
I managed to head to the waterfront while they were having a naval exhibition.
Bet'cha didn't know about the South African penguins!
I got really close!
Sunset at Kalky's.
As you can see, I had a really good time. It was great to be amongst old friends and YWAMers again. I got the chance to hang out with some of the DTS students from all over Africa and had a blast with them. We explored Cape Town a bit, but I spent most of my time bumming around Kalk Bay. Can I tell you that had I known this place existed, I may not have committed to staying in Joburg? In this laid back, small town atmosphere I felt like myself for the first time in a long time. I think it had something to do with being so close to God’s creation, seeing others who wear flip flops everyday, talking to strangers on the street, wandering through independently owned bookshops where the person working there could recommend something to ya, and not feeling like you’re being watched or followed. Yeah, I miss those days …
And, there was the amazing food … thank God for the Brass Bell and Olympia Café … they may be the reason I return to Kalk Bay before leaving South Africa for good.
As you can see, I had a really good time. It was great to be amongst old friends and YWAMers again. I got the chance to hang out with some of the DTS students from all over Africa and had a blast with them. We explored Cape Town a bit, but I spent most of my time bumming around Kalk Bay. Can I tell you that had I known this place existed, I may not have committed to staying in Joburg? In this laid back, small town atmosphere I felt like myself for the first time in a long time. I think it had something to do with being so close to God’s creation, seeing others who wear flip flops everyday, talking to strangers on the street, wandering through independently owned bookshops where the person working there could recommend something to ya, and not feeling like you’re being watched or followed. Yeah, I miss those days …
And, there was the amazing food … thank God for the Brass Bell and Olympia Café … they may be the reason I return to Kalk Bay before leaving South Africa for good.
Over a month ...
It's been that long since I've written on here. I have written, just didn't feel like putting my inner turmoil on the web. So, now that I'm coming out of the fog and am starting to get a feel for why I'm returning to South Africa in July, here's my most recent writing. I think it sums it up pretty well ...
Imagine that for years you’d been preparing to make a big move to Chicago or New York. You’ve been bracing yourself for harsh winters, moderate summers and the hustle and bustle of a fast-paced life. Then God flips the script on you and asks you to plant yourself in rural Kentucky.
That’s a bit what being in South Africa is like to me. Even now, one year into this new direction and adventure with Him, I’m still struggling to reconcile what my dreams about South America were. Were they one step in the process of getting me to think outside of the box? If so, then I would say that He took it too far, and the dream became too engrained in me and in my heart. No fair.
In thinking about what God has called me to and what I believe He’s preparing me for, life in South Africa makes sense, but it doesn’t. Where else in the world can you see such gross injustices committed against women and children? Maybe parts of Asia. Where else is the orphan crisis as big? Nowhere. Where else has AIDS ravaged a population that will not do what is necessary to stop the disease?
Then there are the things He’s placed in me personally that I look at through a South African lens and I can’t reconcile – the gift of hospitality; love for food and photography; that my marriage and family would be an agent of change and reconciliation; my love of latin languages.
No wonder I’m not myself in this place. Half of who I am and what I’m about doesn’t fit in this place, and I’m not sure it ever will.
What to do? These words still haunt me and drive me on …
Love unfailing
Overtaking my heart
You take me in
Finding peace again
Fear is lost in all You are
I would give the world to tell Your story
For I know that You’ve called me
I know that You’ve called me
I’ve lost myself for good within Your promise
And I won’t hide it, I won’t hide it
Jesus I believe You
And I would go
To the ends of the earth
To the ends of the earth
For You
Alone are the Son of God
And all the world will see
That you are God
You are God.
I can still remember the first time I heard this song, long after I’d made the decision to go to Africa instead of South America. I remember the ache in my heart, probably from saying “Yes” to Him and no to my own desires.
In spite of the questions, I trust that He knows what’s best.
Imagine that for years you’d been preparing to make a big move to Chicago or New York. You’ve been bracing yourself for harsh winters, moderate summers and the hustle and bustle of a fast-paced life. Then God flips the script on you and asks you to plant yourself in rural Kentucky.
That’s a bit what being in South Africa is like to me. Even now, one year into this new direction and adventure with Him, I’m still struggling to reconcile what my dreams about South America were. Were they one step in the process of getting me to think outside of the box? If so, then I would say that He took it too far, and the dream became too engrained in me and in my heart. No fair.
In thinking about what God has called me to and what I believe He’s preparing me for, life in South Africa makes sense, but it doesn’t. Where else in the world can you see such gross injustices committed against women and children? Maybe parts of Asia. Where else is the orphan crisis as big? Nowhere. Where else has AIDS ravaged a population that will not do what is necessary to stop the disease?
Then there are the things He’s placed in me personally that I look at through a South African lens and I can’t reconcile – the gift of hospitality; love for food and photography; that my marriage and family would be an agent of change and reconciliation; my love of latin languages.
No wonder I’m not myself in this place. Half of who I am and what I’m about doesn’t fit in this place, and I’m not sure it ever will.
What to do? These words still haunt me and drive me on …
Love unfailing
Overtaking my heart
You take me in
Finding peace again
Fear is lost in all You are
I would give the world to tell Your story
For I know that You’ve called me
I know that You’ve called me
I’ve lost myself for good within Your promise
And I won’t hide it, I won’t hide it
Jesus I believe You
And I would go
To the ends of the earth
To the ends of the earth
For You
Alone are the Son of God
And all the world will see
That you are God
You are God.
I can still remember the first time I heard this song, long after I’d made the decision to go to Africa instead of South America. I remember the ache in my heart, probably from saying “Yes” to Him and no to my own desires.
In spite of the questions, I trust that He knows what’s best.
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