It Was an Africa Day

It began with exhaustion. After panic over an English essay that lasted late into the post-it noting, character analysing night last night, I was tired. We started the day early because Dad and us kids were going to go on our first home visit with the health care team.

We drove to the Seed and hung out there until it was time for the home visit. We were going to visit the family who just lost a mother, a member of the HIV support group at the SOH, and I could tell that this was going to be a tough morning. Since the big Buckey was not available because of a break down earlier this morning, we crammed the four of us plus Bouli, Zama, Jabu and Ethel into the tiny Avanza soon to be joined by half a dozen hefty bags of vegetables. It was cramped, but it was fun. Bouli entertained us with a round of “We Are Family” soon to be followed by Jabu’s rendition of “Happy Day” which was a million times better than the Whoopie Goldberg version in one of those Sister Act Movies.

We got word that the Buckey was free and we drove back to the Seed to pick it up. I was excited because it meant we would get to ride in the back with no seat belts! Riding in a car with no seat belts gives me a rush ‘cause I rarely do it… I figure it’s better than getting into stealing or hard drugs. Anyways, we’re going to switch cars, and Jabu, a fully grown woman in a skirt, climbs into the back, squats on a tire and says, “I wanna play with the kids! Get in here!” That woman is my hero. We got in and the novelty of riding in the back left us after 10 minutes on a bumpy dirt road. My discomfort is soon forgotten by talking to Jabu. She told us about what the Health Team does on a daily basis, and my hands were itching for my notebook I left in my purse at the Seed, her words were so wise. Basically, the ladies on the Health Team have one of the most amazing jobs in the world. There is so much lack of education in terms of HIV/AIDS information, from the government, from witch doctors and from word of mouth. One of the most heart breaking things I’ve heard is the myth that intercourse with a virgin will cure you of AIDS. So many children are abused that way… Jabu got involved with this kind of education when she was visiting a man from her church who had AIDS and his family was afraid to touch him. She hugged him and 6 months later she had a job at the Seed of Hope. Amazing.

She also told us about this particular situation we were walking into. A HIV positive support group member with three children died quickly from a bout with pneumonia, and even though she took her ARVs diligently, she was still too weak to overcome the sickness. She lived with her brother, but their relationship was not strong and he doesn’t want to take the children, and neither does the woman’s aunt. I was interested and nervous for what I would see in the next few minutes.  We finally stopped and got out with the vegetables and food hamper, and to my amazement Zama balanced the box of tomatoes on her head as she walked down this rocky dirt path. Like I said, it was an Africa day.

We walked through a ladies yard, where chickens roamed free and the dog house was made out of tarps and plastic bags. Down-hill we saw the house, made out of mud and sheltered with a tin roof, the house number was spray painted on the front of it. The neighbours poked their heads out of their doors, as they watched us enter the house. I passed my bag of potatoes to Zama and stood at the door, not sure whether or not all eight of us plus the family could fit in this two room home. Bouli waved me next to her and I entered the hut, taking it all in, but feeling like I was intruding. There was a candle lit on the floor, and a gogo (gramma) sat on the ground with a blanket around her legs, while another walked in and sat on a chair. The roof was made of tin, and I counted the holes in it on my fingers until I ran out of them. The mud walls were covered by sheets as a form of insulation, and the ground was covered by tarp-like plastic and cardboard. Immediately the Health Team began to sing. I hummed along the best I could and watched another family member of unknown relation to the deceased come in to listen. Zama sang through her weeping, and it was beautiful, the love and compassion these ladies have is remarkable. After the singing, the team each took turns in praying in their beautiful Zulu language, I only caught a few words that I recognized, “He will never leave us or forsake us”, “amen”, “faithful”. The gogo on the ground (who turned out to be the woman’s aunt) cried and then Dad closed in prayer. I’m glad I wasn’t called upon to pray, because, quite frankly, what would I say? I have trouble knowing what to say to people in Canada who lose someone they love in a non-tragic way, so how could I ever think up something here?

The ladies talked to the family in Zulu some more and as they did, a handsome young boy, maybe 8 years old came in and hugged his knees against his chest on the ground. He was the oldest of the children left behind. The youngest was 3 months old, and since they all came from different fathers, their care by a daddy isn’t a possibility. The government doesn’t have any plans in place for orphaned children like foster care, so nobody knows what will happen to these children. I can’t even imagine. The visit ended and we walked out of the home and saw another left behind child, this one maybe 2 years at the very most, and we made our way back to the car. I had heavy boots for the family, and the children, but also for my selfishness. Everything that I have ever cried over or worried about seemed not worthy; I have a loving family, good friends, and easy access to health care and education. I’ll go to college, and I’ll live comfortably until I die.

We stopped at a clinic and the high school on our way back to the Seed. The high schoolers are in the middle of their finals, and the grade twelves are doing their Matric Exams which are worth 75% of their final mark for the year. We are so lucky… 50% seems like a joke to them. If you have a bad day on the day of your final, you’re done.

We got back to the center, picked up mum and went to Woolworth’s to buy lunch, 5 ready-made sandwiches, 5 drinks, two bags of chips and two bags of liquorice all-sorts for my father (gross). It rang in at 246 rand and we made our way back to the center to eat our lunch. When we went to the staff room the Health Team was talking to a boy we’d seen on the playground a couple times, he always looks sad and we’ve taken to giving him a little extra lovin’ and smiles. We asked Ethel what she knew about the boy, and we found out some stuff that made my heart feel like it was in my chest, stomach and throat all at the same time. He technically lives with his aunt and his baby cousin, but sometimes his aunt leaves for weeks on end to live with her boyfriend and get a little extra money from him. They expect the lady to be gone for a long while come Christmas season.  While she’s gone the boy either stays by himself or with neighbours who will take him in. He’s 9-years-old at best. Without the help from her boyfriend, the lady makes 250 rand a month. The boy has a lot of sores on his head, and has trouble making friends and getting along with other kids. It was only after we let this soak in that I realized and voiced aloud “250 rand… That’s how much lunch cost.” Hmm. My boots became heavier and I needed to shake it off with some playtime.

We went outside hoping it wouldn’t rain for the 14^th day in a row. I pushed kids on the swings and started a half-hearted game of touch (tag). As I was running from a kid I didn’t notice a patch of mud and slipped cartoon style onto my back with my legs up in the air. I laughed it off as I do most times that I fall and felt the wet mud caked onto my shorts soak through to my skin. I’m sure it looked super comical, but it didn’t really help lighten the mood of my day. After walking around awkwardly in dirty pants and mud on the back of my legs, we left early to give Ethel a ride halfway home.

As we were waiting for dad to finish packing up, Ethel wiped off my muddy butt with a towel; the mother in her couldn’t help herself. It would have been awkward, but in a weird way it seemed natural, she’s such a motherly figure… After my rear stopped flaking mud and we were getting into the car, one of my friends Sanelisiwe came up to me and said “Have you remembered my promise?” I took her face in my hands and said, “I’ll bring it to you at the Christmas party as a treat, okay?” You see, yesterday I made a rookie mistake; I wanted to give a gift to a kid. It doesn’t sound bad, but it’s complicated. Yesterday Sanesiliwe grabbed my hand and was admiring my bracelets,

“Can I have one?” she asked, “Please, please, please??”

“I don’t want to give one to you if I can’t give one to everybody!” I told her, she has a sister and I wouldn’t want there to be any sort of awkward favouritism.  I should have just left it at that, but then I remembered the gift of a rope bracelet my friend Jorge gave me before I left, telling me to give it to a special kid. I saw a future leader in Sanasiliwe, and I liked her a lot, so I told her “You know what, I do have a bracelet I can give you.” Her persistent asking caused me to promise that I would bring it to her. Now I have the burden of finding a discreet way to give her a gift without hurting anyone… It’s a weird thing we’ve had to deal with a lot so far, actually. I dunno. It’s an Africa thing for an Africa day. Not super important of life changing, but something on my mind.

Ethel didn’t want us to drive her all the way to her house, but we cut down her walk a tremendous amount. The taxis don’t go all the way into her neighbourhood, because despite her being black, she lives in a primarily white neighbourhood and they don’t like the taxis in their area. The taxis stop at least 2 km from where we dropped her off and she told us that she sometimes walks it. We were amazed at that, and she told us “The Seed of Hope touches me too much for me to worry about how I get there. The children, they touch me. It is so important.” And it’s true, it is. The staff at the SOH, and especially the health care team, do so much on a daily basis! It’s not something they flaunt at staff meetings, they don’t scream out “Two people are now educated about HIV and three accepted the Lord!” even though they have the right to do so. It’s just a part of their job. This amazing stuff that would have made last year’s camp director shout for joy and send an e-mail to the board. It’s just their life, and it’s beautiful and sad and inspiring.

We dropped Ethel off, went back to our apartment where I changed my pants, and were off to the mall to shop for games supplies for the Christmas Party next week. I thought about the things I saw today and let them soak in. It made me sad in a way that made me nauseous and made me want to literally puke up the dinner half of the kids on this continent didn’t get tonight. I have so much, and so much will be different and changed when I get home. There is so much stuff in my life, so many material things and so many first world problems that don’t matter. All of a sudden, so much doesn’t matter. It began to pour as we left the mall and I thought about the holes in tin roofs, and boys by themselves, and houses made out of mud.

So that was a day.

God Being Faithful to Faithful People

Written November 13^th 2011 7:53 pm from Cape Town South Africa

Look at the nations and watch--and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told. Habakkuk 1:5

Tonight we drove to Pastor Stu’s Uncle Peter’s new church building. Peter is about the sweetest old man ever and I’ve fallen in love with him and his wife a little bit over the past two days. I saw pictures of the old building last night, a shack made of metal and wood and plastic, so I was looking forward to seeing the new building. We drove off of the highway and into a community of shacks and buildings that resembled forts I had made as a child. I didn’t believe that buildings like this existed, or rather; I couldn’t believe that there were people that actually lived like that. I thought that those kinds of buildings were just sets that the people at World Vision made to get people to call, but they were very real and very sad. It’s crazy to think that there are millions of people living like that. I’ve always considered my family, life and living situation to be average until this trip, but now I know that that’s not the case at all, we’re so rich and blessed beyond belief! We have everything.

Driving along the streets was completely frightening at first, the look on people’s faces as they saw a train of white cars filled with white people entering their community was nothing but confusion. I wish I had the ability to write about and accurately describe all of the things I saw and felt, or that I had the courage to take pictures on the drive in but I didn’t. The houses were heartbreaking… They are pieced together from scraps, and from what I was able to see through open doors, they usually consisted of only one room.

The streets were littered with trash, people, dogs and children, teens sitting on the ground around a hookah, little boys running around holding hands, pre-teen girls in too small shirts, cross-eyed men talking to themselves and the half empty bottle in their hand. Some kids swarmed our car screaming “CANDY! CANDY!” while others stood on the side of the road waving and getting excited over our returned waves and smiles. We were certainly out of place, and certainly noticed. A little boy, maybe three years old, handsome as ever stole my heart and then broke it as he waved to us by himself from the side of the dirt road. He is the only picture I brought myself to take on the drive in.

As we turned a corner, the church came into view and I lit up with excitement. Like a light in the darkness, this cement building amidst the shacks stood proudly! What wouldn’t seem like an important building anywhere else looked more beautiful to me right then than any Notre Dame or Westminster. This thought only became truer when I saw Peter’s face beaming as he looked proudly upon the building that God had blessed him with. Seeing him and his wife Sybil talk with some of the locals I was originally sketched out with was inspiring, as they had clearly done good work building relationships in that seemingly broken community for the past 17 years. It was truly God being faithful to his people, and like the Seed of Hope, I could feel this church making a difference in the community. It was something that made Habakkuk 1:5 seem like it could apply to my life right now as it is. There are things going on not only in that community, but in the country of South Africa as a whole that I can’t even imagine!

Peter excitedly showed us his church, and I got a little teary as I saw how much this old, good and faithful servant was doing in a hurting area. Pastor Stu too seemed to be brimming with pride and joy for what his dear friend had done and had yet to do. Stu prayed for the church and for Peter and Sybil and I left feeling hopeful for the community I had just seen.

There was so much joy and potential for joy in that area, where neighbours looked after each other, churches were built, and where kids grew up. There is so much possibility for good when communities are encouraged to do good and to build themselves up from the inside out. Like we’ve learned at the Seed, our Western ways of helping can be hurtful, and this church was an example of how equipping a community to do great things and become great people makes so much more of a difference.

Despite all of the brokenness, segregation and violence associated with thoughts of South Africa, love is one of the first things I associate with what I have seen of this country so far. There’s love in Jabu’s voice as she sings praises from her toes, love in sweaty, snotty-nosed kids holding my hand, in cement buildings among shacks, in sunrises over the ocean, in Zulu prayers, in Buli’s curry and in cloudy mountains. There is so much love and so much hope.

A wimoweh

If you know me well, you know that I don’t really enjoy animals. It’s not that I don’t think animals aren’t cute or anything, but I don’t really find pleasure in petting a kitten, and seeing people kiss their dogs makes me want to vom. It’s just not my thing. Despite these facts, I sincerely enjoyed our time in Umfolozi Game Reserve these past couple of days, because unlike with people’s pets, I wasn’t peer pressured into petting them or sucked into looking at dozens of pictures of them dressed up for Halloween on friend’s phones.

We left Thursday afternoon with the Skyview Church Team and Scott our animal expert/braii master (Scott works at the Seed and a braai is like a barbeque with less potato salad and more meat than you could ever imagine) It’s about a three hour drive which was long and hot, but full of fun and fighting between dad and I over whose music would be played in the car… “Music died in ’89!”… That’s his only argument.

Anyways, 5 minutes into our time at the camp there was a warthog sighting followed by a chorus of “a wimoweh a wimoweh a wimoweh a wimoweh” in one of our first numbers from the Lion King Soundtrack. It was impressive. We saw a few more animals on our way into the park which was cool, but not nearly cool enough to be mentioned in this paragraph. We got settled in our chalets which were super nice and lovely minus the bugs and the unidentifiable cat sized thing that jumped on Shelina in the middle of the night. We had a braai prepared for us by Scott which was quite impressive because preparing a braai is an art form. It requires skill, timing and a great resistance to the meat sweats.

The two full days we spent there were long and filled with driving and animals, some of my favourite moments included:

-          Our up close Rhino sighting: We saw a whole lot of Rhinos on Friday, almost to the point where we were becoming Rhino snobs and we were caught saying things like “Come on, another Rhino?! I’m sick of seeing Rhinos.” But at the end of the day, there were two giant Rhino’s on the side of the road that we were literally 20 feet away from. It was both terrifying and exciting and I got some golden pictures that will be shared on facebook in the near future. So awesome.

-          Elephants: They are HUGE and beautiful and so scary up close. We witnessed one of them knock down a tree and it made me a little worried for our safety in our tin can Avanza.

-          Lions: Dad had been to the game park twice before and had yet to see any cats, so I wasn’t holding my hopes high for anything, but we saw 4 lions Saturday morning at about 6:30! There had been a kill nearby and there were vultures circling, hyenas and lions watching it all unfold. So wild.

-          Cheetahs!: At this point we had seen Elephants, Lions, Rhinos, Water Buffalo, Nyalas, Wildebeests, Giraffes, Zebras and so many other animals, that we felt like we had gotten our money’s worth. But then all of a sudden out of the blue we got the bonus of three cheetahs sitting under a tree. They are so lean and so beautiful and they really gave me a new appreciation for non-human life. Haha

All in all it was so great and crazy to be 20 feet from animals that could kill you if they wanted to. We also got to know the team better, now I know that Gary Henderson is a mad man and totally fearless (which I’m not always convinced is the best thing for his safety. Ha!)  And Shelina is a lover of animals and can remain totally calm when faced with what could be a traumatizing event. It was such a blast and I can’t wait to come home and bore you all with a million pictures of animals you don’t care about! And then to make it fair you can show me pictures of your pets!

xo

Alanna

Singing

Yesterday after a grey morning of school and drizzling, we headed over to the Seed of Hope to sit in on the staff meeting before the kids started coming. This was our third staff meeting so far and I love them. It starts off with singing, which is amazing. Someone just starts and everyone joins in. Their harmony is effortless and beautiful, and they just sing. There’s no self-conscious mumbling or mouthing of words, and they sing as loud and clear as they can, and no one is a bad singer. Next someone shares a ten minute devotion, and then everyone prays at the same time. Be it in Zulu or English, no one can really tell because it sounds like a beehive mixed with the clicking and hissing that comes with Zulu words. So awesome. And then comes my favourite part of the meeting, HUGGING! Everyone just gets up and hugs each other, which is nice because hey, sometimes you just need a hug. Even if you don’t know that person or only know their name, you hug ‘em. It’s great.

After the staff meeting the kids usually start showing up, squeezing their skinny selves through the bars of the fence or walking off of the road through the gate to the Seed. Yesterday I attracted quite a crowd with my silly faces and hand games and made many friends in the 4-to-5-years-old age range. At 2:30 South African time (which is really whenever they feel like they’re ready to start) Simunye time begins for 3-10-year-olds which I’ve sat in on a couple times and is a total riot. There is also the English class for 11-15-year-olds which the three of us go to sometimes, and yesterday’s class was AH-mazing. Musa, the teacher told us to get in groups of three and we were all going to sing a “gospel” song for the class. If we were in North America and this happened… Well it wouldn’t happen cause 9 out of 10 kids in North America sing like crap and I’m one of them! The kids were magnificent. Their voices are just so naturally strong and full and like I’ve said before, their harmonies will bring you to tears. They have such rhythm that they incorporate as they sing, some just light foot stomps, and some full out coordinated dances. This one kid in particular just got up there and owned the whole show. He opened his mouth and his voice filled the room, deep and proud and sent shivers up my spine. It was so crazy, and now I am mad that half of the people I hear on the radio are employed because they suck compared to 95% of the 12-year-olds down here. After hearing beautiful song after beautiful song in Zulu or English, the Canadians took their turn. We broke it out with a little “Lord I Lift Your Name On High” actions and all, and then finished her off with “Down In My Heart”. Once the kids got over our terrible voices, they liked our actions and joined in on the clapping. It was fun had by all, and hopefully I’ll be able to give you all a demonstration of some of our new African songs when we get back dance moves, clapping, cheering and all!

xo

Alanna

Live Out Loud

Well, we’ve been here for nearly a week and it’s been great! I will admit to sometimes when I felt completely out of place and awkward and thought to myself “WHAT AM I DOING HERE???” After spending two months in Europe this is a culture shock in the biggest way. You have to tip people a few rand everywhere you go, which can be stressful when you have no change. You feel constantly grimy and hot. Other kids make fun of your athletic abilities or lack thereof. But all in all, there are so many things to love about this place!

We’ve been to the Seed of Hope three times now, and I’m really looking forward to spending more time there. The kids are adorable! They’re so smiley and eager to play and talk to you, even though most of the time they can’t speak any English. On our first day we sat in on Simunye time for the younger kids, Simunye meaning “we are together”. It started off with singing, which wasn’t exactly music, mostly just organized hollering on different notes. It was beautiful either way. I made friends with a round faced boy who’s smile is a big as his face who kept on giving me the thumbs up, and trying to say things to me in English that didn’t make sense, like “who’s watch is this?” He was super cute and hilarious, like they all are. We also played on the playground with kids for a solid 2 hours yesterday, a couple of rubber swings and wood pieced together can entertain these kids so easily! They’re so fun and cute and hot and smelly, but great. I’m excited to get to know a few of them over these next couple of months.

Today when we went, we helped our new friend Karen prepare for a year end party for the Live Out Loud group, which is a group of high school students chosen as leaders in their community to be sort of mentored by our new friend Karen, and grow within a group. We set the tables, washed dishes, and served food, which was great, but actually getting to hang out with the students was the best part. We stuffed all eighteen people into three cars and took them to the Galleria Shopping Center to take them for their first time bowling. It being their first time, I assumed that I was going to have a chance to shine athletically. That was not the case. They got really into it, and were surprisingly talented! And let me tell you, bowling with South Africans is a whole lot different than hitting the Deerfoot Mall bowling alley with some buds. Bowling tonight involved jumping, dancing, high-fiving, squealing, rolling on the ground, moon-walking, leap-frogging over the ball return, hugging, and a whole lot of laughter. It was a blast, and they were all so much fun, and very eager to talk to the Canadian girl. A boy even asked if he could marry Lauren. We said we’ll have to think about it. Haha

After bowling, Adam and Lauren went to a youth group while Mum, Dad and I went to help out with the dinner for the kids. It went well and listening to them talk about how the group had changed them was inspiring and made me get a little teary. It’s so cool when people can come together and feel like a family. It made me miss camp a little bit. Mum freaked out when it was time for dessert, because the chocolate sauce was gross and liquidy, but then at the same time really chunky and dry, it kind of looked like dog poop on top of ice cream. If you know my mum, she is a Jedi Master at planning events, and she likes things to be done right, and hey, what’s wrong with that? Bossy yet effective. In the end, the kids were happy with their dessert, and mum didn’t develop any kind of ulcers. The evening ended with pictures, bongos, singing and dancing. I think I’m going to like it here. :)

Halfway Home and All the Way to South Africa

We’ve arrived! After what seemed like days of travel, we have made it to Amanzimtoti, South Africa! We had to navigate cabs trains and cars with our 12 pieces of luggage, but everything and everyone is accounted for and we’re here!

We’re all still a little bit exhausted, because we hardly slept at all on our 10 hour flight from London to Johannesburg. I’m always so overwhelmed on long flights with airplane food and in-flight entertainment and the option of sleep… British Airways also had a fabulous selection of music and I listened to 3 full albums of Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs, Fleet Foxes. Atta be, British Airways. We had to take a smaller plane from Jo-burg to Durban and then some our friends working at the Seed of Hope came to pick us up and take us to our apartment right on the beach! The drive from Durban to Amanzimtoti was amazing! I’ve discovered that there are so many different kind of beautiful in the world. There is the kind of beautiful that you can see in the Rocky Mountains of Alberta, or from the Buffalo Jump at Camp Harmattan, or of the inside of an old cathedral, or of canals and windows with flower boxes… But the kind of beautiful here is different; there are so many trees and plants that I’ve never seen before that cover the ground making the main colour of the land green! There are small hills everywhere and the texture of the land is amazing. And then there is the Indian Ocean and the white sand beaches that surround it that are so beautiful! Our friends say that we’ve got some 30 degree days coming our way soon, so we’ll definitely enjoy our beach lots!

After getting somewhat settled in our apartment, Dad, Lauren, Adam and I wandered down to the beach to dip our feet in the third ocean we’ve visited this year! Pacific during New Years in Hawaii, Atlantic in New York and Oostende, and Indian here in Amanzimtoti (we’re a little bit spoiled)

So I guess for those of you that don’t really know, our purpose for being here in S.A. is to get involved with the day to day operations of the Seed of Hope Community Development which does a lot of amazing things for children and youth in the community of Bhekulwandle. You can check out the website at: http://theseedofhope.org

I honestly have no idea what to expect out of these next couple of months here, and I’m completely out of my element, which excites me a lot. I’ve traded in my leather jacket and boots for flip-flops and shorts, and I’m basically just going to go with the flow and hopefully broaden my mind even further. My days of shopping and cafes are behind me, which surprisingly doesn’t upset me much, because I know I’ll be back in Europe as soon as I get the chance. I think that we were all ready to move on and explore somewhere new again, and I can’t wait to see what amazing adventures come our way in these next two months!

xo

Goodbye to Ghent

Today was our last full day in Europe and I am so sad. As much as I know that South Africa is going to be an amazing experience, I would stay here so much longer if I could! These two months have gone by so fast, and it’s crazy to me that there is only 65 days until I’m home in the freezing cold city that for some reason, I love. This week, Ghent has proved to me just how cool it truly is, with its rad film festival, fun last minute shopping, and charming Flemish restaurants. I LOVE IT ALL. I seriously can’t wait to come back as soon as I get the chance. Ghent is the result of God and 17^th century architects getting together to say “We love you Alanna, you will be happy here.” I’m so sad to leave. We spent our last day packing, making last stops at the grocery store, walking by the canals and downtown, and feeling heavy in our hearts for this city we have grown to love.

This evening we went for dinner at the home of one of dad’s colleagues which was so much fun. Maybe it’s just because I don’t have friends on this continent, but playing with his four children was a blast despite the language barrier. We figured out how to play charades and talk to them that way, and with kids communication is pretty easy. I’ve discovered that there are universal signals kids give you for “hide and seek”, “pick me up and spin me around” and “dance with me”, a signal for piggy backs is simply unnecessary when they can just jump on your back anyways. I expanded my Flemish vocabulary, which is good because before I could only say “slagroom” which means “whipping cream” an important word when ordering lattes, my friend. Now I can count to ten, say the alphabet, and play a weird take on KitKat bar all in Flemish! Their house was awesome, and they had a trampoline, a tree house, a donkey, rabbits, a cat and chickens! There is no way a kid (or mature teen like myself, for that matter) could not have fun there! It was so funny to me how we could become friends without speaking the same language, but with kids it’s easy, especially when Milton Bradley puts out a Dutch version of Twister. So great! It was a fun way to end our time here in Belgium, and we’ll look forward to hosting them in Canada someday.

 I think that I’m getting far too excited about this new relationship with these children. In that department it has been a looooooooooooooong two months. I had a similar experience when grandma and I were on our way home from Spain, and I became friends with a 9-year-old American girl who was also struggling to get a luggage cart. There was two sweet minutes where me and another English speaking girl were equally confused, and equally together. It felt just like real friendship until her Dad helped us both and then wheeled her off to their flight and out of my life forever. I was heartbroken.

I guess that’s what excites me the most about South Africa, is being able to connect with other people and kids and feel a little more at home than we did over here.  I’m also looking forward to thirty degree weather and white sand beaches!!! The tan and freckles are coming back for an encore and I’m overjoyed. It will be nice to get into a routine, and actually accomplish some schoolwork. I’m sitting pretty at an 87% in Bio which is a miracle in itself, and I’m a little bit afraid to touch school and change that. Ha! I’ve decided I want to work extra hard and be finished my classes in December so that I can have time to goof off in January and go on dates with myself while my friends are in school, and do arty, crafty things.

Anyways… wish me luck on school and coping with leaving this glorious continent that I love! I appreciate all of you who have kept up with my blog, because I love writing it! Keep me and my crazy family in your thoughts and prayers as we travel to S. Africa!

xo

Yours from the last time in Ghent,

Alanna