South
Africa Team 1824 Blog
11-3-2018
“One Happy Missionary!”
My
hair was always a mess, I seldom wore make-up, so it’s not the most flattering
picture, but it captures my joy!
We
met with great success, our South Africa Team 1824! Sandy Hardies' email says
we saw 706 people during the week’s five clinics, and gave out 720 pair of
glasses, which the South Africans call spectacles. We also gave out two white
canes to clients who could not be helped with glasses but whose life might
improve with the type of cane used by blind persons in the US.
The
very last client to come to my fitting station one day was a young lady whose
spectacles did not fit. I mean they really
did not fit. What’s more, they were made of thick plastic-coated metal. I could
not get them to budge. They were way too small for her face, and way too bulky
to alter. I went back to Carol who was packing up the glasses to see if I could
get this young lady a pair which I could get to fit properly. The stubborn
young lady took one look at the new pair Carol and I found and said, “No.
This,” pointing to the hopelessly small ones.
We went
back and forth, I called an interpreter, but no matter what she would not
budge. I gave up. I packed her chosen spectacles, the ones that would not do
her a bit of good, into a plastic bag for protection, handed them to her, told
her they were a gift from God because He loves her, and sent her on her way.
Bye-bye. So maybe the number 720 above should be 719, reflecting the number of useful pair of glasses we gave out!
I did
my best to treat each client with respect and dignity. I didn’t want anyone to
see the new spectacles as charity, but as a gift, freely given. So each time I finished
a fitting and handed a pair of glasses to a client, I stood, and said their
name (if I could). I said, “These are yours. They are a gift from God, because
He loves you. May God bless you.” And that was my own spin on the eyeglass
clinic!
When
I had an opportunity toward the end to train some Caring Friends, I told them
to stand, show respect, say the glasses were from God. I watched the faces of
the clients light up. It was wonderful, spiritual. A gift to me!
We
were told as part of our training that we should embrace the South African
culture wherever practical or possible, which we tried to do. There were a few
surprises along the way, but it all turned out so good.
LANGUAGE
According
to Wikipedia: “The most common language spoken as a first language by South
Africans is Zulu (23 percent), followed by Xhosa (16 percent), and Afrikaans
(14 percent). English is the fourth most common first language in the country
(9.6%), but is understood in most urban areas and is the dominant language in
government and the media.”
I
learned and used a few Zulu words. The one I used every day, several times a
day was sawubona (sow h bow nah). It’s a greeting, meaning ‘hello’ or ‘I
acknowledge you.’ I just found out in researching this blog post that
‘sawubona’ is to be used greeting ONE person. I used it willy-nilly whenever I
walked in a room where lots of clients were waiting. They usually laughed,
which I took to be a good thing. Now I’m not so sure.
When
talking to an elder female, it’s respectful to call her either “Mama” or
“Koko,” where the ‘k’ sound is very soft, almost like ‘gogo.’ An elder male
could be addressed as “Mkulu” (mm koo loo). Also, we all learned Nkulukulu
Akubusise, or ‘May God bless you.’
After
Zulu, the next most popular language is Xhosa. You know when someone is
speaking Xhosa to you, because you hear clicks. I tried, I did, but I could NOT
re-create those clicks. I gave up and let my interpreters speak for me when
communicating with clients whose primary language was Xhosa.
Afrikaans
is considered a daughter language of Dutch. The origins of the Afrikaans
language are with the Dutch settlers of South Africa in the 17th and
18th centuries. It seems to be a combination of Zulu and Dutch
speech, and is recognized as one of the official languages of South Africa. The
Afrikaaners have their own customs and religion. They are the reason we saw so
many road signs in two languages, English and Afrikaans.
Nearly
all South Africans speak more than one language. While in the Middelburg area,
almost everyone understood some English. Out farther from the city, the
interpreters were more important. Many people have a little English at least,
and Zulu or one of the dialects. Our driver Knut speaks Zulu, English,
Afrikaans and Swedish (his parents’ native language, spoken at home). What a
fantastic resource he was for us!
FOOD
Our
first stop for food after deplaning in Johannesburg was at a fast food place. It’s not called
carry-out; it’s take-away. French fries were called chips. All I had was a
large order of chips, thinking I saw ketchup on the tables. Nope. Only barbecue
sauce and Thousand Island Dressing, neither of which sounded good to me at the
time, so I opted for salt. Except the salt was flavored, and a bit spicy for
me! Live and learn.
Tuesday
evening we were invited to Bishop Khumalo’s house, where his wife and daughter
had prepared a meal for us. I had been told by my husband Phil before I left
that I should try everything, so when going through the buffet line I didn’t
neglect any of the dishes, but dutifully spooned even the most unrecognizable
things onto my plate.
One
thing the Khumalos served was pap (pronounced ‘pup’), which looked like very
thick grits. I was wishing for butter or gravy, but there was neither.
Pap
and chakalaka
Next
to the pap was a bean and tomato relish called ‘chakalaka.’ It looked kind of
like salsa with kidney beans. Onto the plate! When I sat down to eat, I tried
the chakalaka. Hoo boy was that ever spicy and hot and burned my tongue! I was
happy for the comparatively bland pap, which cooled it down some. I soldiered
on, and cleaned my plate. The meal was very good, and we were rewarded with
some of Bishop Khumalo’s wine. Lovely!
Everywhere
we went, we were offered mushrooms. At
David and Jane Hannay’s house, the main course was a delicious chicken dish
with mushroom gravy.
The
dessert served at the luncheon on Sunday and at both the Khumalos and Hannays
was called Malva Pudding. Excellent! It’s a moist ginger-bread type cake, made
with apricot jam, and topped with vanilla custard, served warm. I could happily
have made a whole meal of it.
Malva
pudding
When
out to dinner at a restaurant one night, several of our MOST group ordered
game, like kudu steak. I did not. My adventurous spirit was wearing thin as far
as food was concerned, so I had a nice beef filet with mushroom sauce. I
thought beets would be safe, and they looked so good served with blue cheese
crumbles, but nope. Spicy hot.
CUSTOMS
During
the Sunday worship service, the one that lasted 4 ½ hours (see blog post entitled ‘Safe arrival, wonderful worship’), the
ushers brought out little chairs and put them in the aisles. The kiddies moved from
the pews to the aisle seats, and sat where their parents could see them. In
this way, the children could see everything that was happening, and participate
in worship, and still be under the watchful eye of the parents. When there was
dancing in the aisles, they danced around or with the kiddies.
This
cute little girl was beside us the entire morning, every now and then looking
at us and smiling. When I went to use the restroom, she followed me and was
waiting outside my door when I opened it. I guess she missed me!
While
at Bishop and Mrs. Khumalo’s home Tuesday evening, Sandy, our Team Leader,
determined that it was time to go, as we had a pretty busy day coming up. She
stood, we stood, we began making our good-byes and thank-yous, until Bishop
Khumalo stopped us with an announcement. He kindly told us that in South
African culture, when a guest in someone’s home, you must ask permission to
leave. I sat back down, as did a few others. After a little while, Sandy had
David Hannay speak to Bishop Khumalo, and we were granted leave to go.
This
surprising twist on the customary behavior of guests was good to know, as we
needed this info in the next few days. We had travelled a long ways to do our
clinic in a remote area. We stopped at the home of a doctor of herbal medicine,
by far the wealthiest man in the area, to ask his permission to enter this
neighborhood, of which he seemed to be the overseer. Permission was granted,
and we drove a ways further and set up our clinic.
When
the day was over, we hurried to pack up and go, as we were expected at the
Hannay’s home that night for dinner and still had a long drive ahead of us. We
stopped back at the doctor’s house to ask permission to leave. Then we were
told we must each present ourselves to the doctor to show respect. We did so.
We entered his house, payed our respects, and were served soft drinks. When I
thought we were leaving, we were led to another room and given a plate of food!
Knowing the Hannays were preparing dinner, I tried to nibble, but was compelled
to clean my plate. I think I had chicken and rice. If not, I don’t want to
know.
Happily,
there was plenty of time before we arrived at the Hannay’s home, and we all ate
again. The food was delicious, the company excellent, and we were sorry
to leave when the time came.
A
custom I had learned about before we left the US was that men were expected to
enter the door before the ladies. But Muzi kept waiting, and asking me to go
first. When I explained what I had been told, he looked surprised, and said,
“We are modern!” So I gave up.
Late
afternoon on Tuesday, Muzi said we were done taking new clients for the day. It
takes roughly an hour for one client to go from registration through to fitting,
and after seeing our last client we still had to pack everything up into the
trailer before we could head for home. He apologized to the people who had been
waiting, and asked them to come back in November, the next clinic day at that
location. All of the ladies and some of the men complied, but a group of seven
men stayed put, and I guess said, “Oh yes we ARE being seen today.” They staged
a sit-in! I don’t know why they got their way unless Muzi saw them as his
elders, but eventually, all seven of them were seen, and were our last clients
that day, which meant we closed a little late.
SURPRISES
On
the road to the east from Middelburg, on our sightseeing day Saturday, we
stopped for bathrooms and a bit of shopping at what I would call a large
roadside vegetable/produce stand. I was shocked to see dozens of zebra pelts
for sale, completely covering the two side walls. Knut later told us that the
zebra herds must be thinned, so they cull the herd and sell the zebra for steaks
and their pelts.
When
at the grocery store for supplies, I noticed that several magazines were being
sold in two different languages, side by side; Afrikaans and English.
Middelburg
is in coal country. Large power plants seen on the horizon were thought by us
to be nuclear, but were actually powered by coal. Lots of coal mining going on
in the area, with large trucks continually transporting coal from the mine to
the plant.
You
see hardly any wood homes due to the lack of natural forest, and the
destructive force of termites. Most homes in Middelburg are brick and mortar,
all with high brick walls surrounding the property, topped by razor wire or
spikes, and with large electronic gates. We never saw screens on windows, but
everywhere the windows and doors had bars.
This
was my bedroom window at the Mission House.
Also
due to termites, there are no wood fences. I saw pasture fencing I thought was
wood; it looked like a tall, thick picket fence. It was actually concrete!
Knut
kept us well informed. Whenever there was something we needed to know, or some
point of interest, he fired up the microphone in the front of the van so those
in the back could hear.
HOME
AGAIN!
It
was so good to see my husband at the airport when I landed. I
couldn’t wait to fill him in on everything, and to be back in my own home and
sleep in my own bed.
I
don’t think I realized, though, even though I had been told, what an adjustment this
would be. Getting back to the US, to our homes and families and usual routines,
can require some fine-tuning, not to mention jet-lag recovery!
We’ll
each be helped by talking to our individual ‘debriefer.’ This is the person
chosen before we left who we would talk it all out with: what was good, what wasn’t;
what we experienced physically, mentally, and spiritually; how we would take
what we learned and use it in our life going forward.
We
also have a bible study given to us by MOST Ministries, called the Re-Entry
Bible Study. What God-given skills did we use during our time in South Africa?
What are our desires for future mission trips? What limitations might we have
discovered? How do we incorporate this ‘mountain-top’ experience into our lives
going forward?
Perhaps
you’d like to pray for Team 1824 as we make our transition. Perhaps, after
reading this blog from a novice missionary, you think you’d like to try short
term mission work in the future. If you live an easy driving distance to Ann
Arbor, you might like to volunteer at MOST Ministries every so often. If you sew,
you could make eye-glass covers. If you don’t, you could make witness
bracelets. I can help you with either.
Pray
for Team 1824, and also pray that God will lead you to discover how you can be
a part of it all. Go to mostministries.org for more information. You can go,
you can send others, you can lift the mission teams in prayer, you can
volunteer. Pray, and listen, and God will guide you! Sounds easy, but there it
is.
One
question I was asked several times by Muzi and the Caring Friends, was “When
are you coming back?” I said I didn’t know when
or if I would be back, but that I
would never forget my time in South Africa. Muzi said, “You will be back.” I
tried to explain that it takes a good deal of money, and that we are not
independently wealthy. That a lot of people, friends and family, donated funds
for me to be able to take this one trip.
I asked Muzi, "How many times can I go to the well?” He said, “As many times as
you thirst.” So I guess we’ll see. God is good, all the time!
Thank
you so much for your prayers, your support, your kind comments on the blog and
on Facebook. I appreciate each of you so much!
Linda
Meier
One
happy and fulfilled missionary,
back
from the mission field,
ready
to see what God has in store for me next
