Happy Birthday

Evidence Ministries

A few weeks ago Keith Walker included an entry on his own blog (http://evidenceministries.blogspot.com) about our blog – bloggity-blog-blog-blog. It is in a similar spirit that I post a comment now about Keith (and family). I originally met Keith and Becky (now with kids and dog) some 9 or 10 years ago in San Antonio, TX through a mutual friend. They have been great friends since. In 1995 they founded Evidence Ministries in San Antonio, where they serve as a missionary outreach to Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses (for Christ) as well as educate Christians regarding the differences between Christianity and the these two groups – both emphases often involve a host of activities within the community and afar in terms of education, awareness, and outreach. As long as I have known the Walker’s they have been tireless in their endeavors with speaking engagements, radio guest spots, ministry related travel (e.g., Manti Utah, Pennsylvania, and even Moldova (!), to name but a few places), and on and on I could go. Feel free to view their website (http://www.evidenceministries.org) and blog for further information and/or to contact them with questions or comments.

-Randy

Mammal Drama

What do you get when you mix a horse, a swimming pool, a net, and a large dull kitchen knife? For Randy and I, that would be our afternoon stroll. We were out in a corner of the land we live on, just looking around. We had never seen that area before. Randy and I were standing there talking about BBQ and in less than thirty seconds, Randy is soaking wet and covered in blood.

We could see the landlady’s house from where we stood and suddenly Francoise comes running around the side of the house, her pink robes flapping, her curly red hair frizzing, and she herself screaming at the top of her lungs. We run around the house to find Audrey in the swimming pool with the horse. The dumb thing has fallen right in (the horse, not Audrey). Audrey keeps a net over the pool and now the horse is caught in it. All I do is blink and when I open my eyes again, Randy is in the swimming pool trying to hold the horse’s head above water. It has twisted sideways and is unable to breathe. The net is caught in one of its horseshoes so Audrey screams for Françoise to go get a knife. She returns with what can only be described as a kitchen machete.

She hands the thing to me, so I gingerly step into the freezing pool, and approach the thrashing horse. But then the dogs start barking and Peter the fisherman shows up and the horse goes bananas. Finally we get it untangled even though the one hoof is still caught up. Randy and Peter push the horse towards the steps and it tries to get out. But one end of the net is wedged under the hoof and the other end is wrapped around Audrey. So the horse is trying to run and Audrey is wailing. Suddenly, I find the horse hoof in front of my face with the netting caught on it. I raise my dull kitchen machete and swing it as hard as I can. The horse goes flying one direction and Audrey falls limply back into the pool.

Randy gets out and his shirt is covered in horse blood. The horse has cuts all over her from the net hooks. Audrey, Francoise and Percy (the parrot) are all beside themselves, and Peter is lecturing on the benefits of staying calm under pressure. Randy simply pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and says, “Dang-it.”

They brought the horse over to our paddock and nursed its wounds. The vet is coming later to stitch it up.

But the weather is getting warmer, and the moon has been big and beautiful at night.

Wumpy

Its ridiculous how much I love my dog.

Last night I scrounged up some Rands and decided to go to the store and get a bar of chocolate for me and Randy. Our bargain (and Andrew and Cristin understand how Randy and I bargain when it comes to chores) was that I would go get us a bar of chocolate and Randy would go chop firewood. (Are y’all thinking he got a raw deal?)

So I decided to take The Wump. He got in the passenger side and sat there mesmerized by the mountains and palm trees as we drove along. I parked, got the chocolate, and by the time I got back to the car, he was so glad to see me that he tried to insist on sitting in the driver’s seat with me. I know half the world thinks we’re totally bonkers for bringing our dogs, but they have been a gift from God. When I’m sitting here by myself, cleaning the house or going for a walk, Wumpus is right there ready to do whatever I want to do. Sometimes I think God created him just to give me something furry and compliant to hug. He’s a good boy.

Mexican in Africa

Sunday was Randy’s day off and he spent the entire day slaving over the……camping burner. He made Spanish rice and his very own salsa. We took that over to Audrey and Françoise’s house and finished making fajitas over there. They’d never had Mexican food. Randy grilled the meat outside with Peter (the fisherman), three dogs, two cats and a horse.
This is Peter, Audrey and Ginger

This is me and Percy (the parrot).

This is Audrey and Françoise.

After we sat down to eat, and before we could explain, Francoise piled at least an inch of ingredients to the very edges of her tortilla (including corn chips and rice) and was then unable to roll it. So she added more stuff to it and then slapped a second tortilla on top. Fajita pie.

“This is divine,” Audrey would say in her very British sounding accent.

“Absolutely divine,” Francoise would agree.

Then three minutes later, “This is divine.”

“Absolutely divine!”

Peter just grinned and ate.

All in all, it was a fairly tame evening. We sat around the table and talked until it was so dark that we couldn’t see each other. Then Audrey and I went on a walk with all the dogs and she had me do walking yoga, which made me thankful I am 10,000 miles away from anyone I know.

When these kinds of things happen, I always think to myself, “Why am I walking down a street in Africa so late at night doing yoga with a Jewish drama professor and five dogs. Didn’t I have a normal life three months ago?”

The WWW vs. SA, a Petty Musing

Needless to say for most of you in America reading this, it would not be much of a surprise to hear that technology in South Africa (SA) compared to the US is a bit of a joke. Speaking strictly on a consumer level – no computer savvy 'techy' hack here – SA is both afraid of technology related crime/fraud and is equally ill-equipped to handle or develop it [i.e., technology and technology related crime]. Perhaps I should qualify that by noting how they protect and develop. Here electricity, cell phones, internet, and many other “niceties” are controlled via prepaid packages for the customer. In other words, if one wants electricity to operate the stove and refrigerator, this must be purchased in advance at a set rate per-usage scale and then consumed. There is no electric bill, per se, rather the “bill” is guesstimated beforehand based on assumed usage. This is then purchased from a grocery store like a prepaid phone card.

Of course this has an obvious benefit. Aside from the headache of trying to guess how much electricity you’ll want to buy, it does allow one to keep close watch on how much money is spent, and thus how much electricity is used. In a land where “abundance” is hardly a household term, economy and ration take their turn. Just don’t forget to buy more electricity or out go the lights! But what may work for mere electricity has unfortunately been the pattern for other services as well. I am thinking of internet usage, a tool hardly designed for the strictures of tight prepaid packaging. There are no monthly “plans” (e.g., Yahoo/DSL) for internet in SA, where a customer pays X dollars per/mo for broadband, or whatever. We have Wi-fi in our flat now, admittedly a nice thing to have - especially when we have a signal! But wifi in this case operates with the same technology as a cell phone. We simply receive a signal from the tower exactly as a cell phone does and are thus able to send email.

What is nice at first blush is difficult for those of us now dependent upon internet applications for basic communication, business development/transactions, research, hobbies, and other projects. Here, one must prepay for wifi (or DSL, or whatever the connection) in terms of megabyte usage, not monthly access. For a substantial fee, one may buy 500 mb of prepaid service (or other lesser or greater denominations). Once this is used the service “gives up the ghost” and the beast must be fed again. Internet is “rationed” like electricity and runs dry without notice.

In a way it reminds me of the Gilligan’s Island episode where the crew learns how to generate electricity using a makeshift bicycle. Of course Gilligan’s constant peddling is necessary to spin the wheel, pulley system, rope, and ultimately to convert “man-power” into usable electricity. Where they got the light bulb doesn’t matter. The point is, in practical terms, the current SA system of prepaid accounts actually undercuts the usability, worth, and ultimately the potential for some technology to expand and actually better society. I have been picking on the Internet presently.

Since the US has been the leader in internet and web development, on the whole, one would think that a country with the ability to utilize something as advanced as wifi would develop a user-system compatible with it. As an example (albeit a pathetic one – other more noble enterprises could have illustrated), if I wanted to download a movie from Amazon (yes you can do that at Amazon.com), I would need to have available in my prepaid megabyte allotment, at the very least, the number of mb’s needed to download the movie. Those of you with normal DSL “monthly plans” just do it and don’t worry about it because nobody’s counting down the precious moments of user time you get with every mouse click. So, I simply cannot use certain niceties the www has made available. To download a movie for 99 cents from Amazon (let’s say it is 1.5 gigs) would cost me better than $60 of megabyte usage on this prepaid plan! What are they thinking? The ONE company running the show is thinking about how much money they get in the process. And so you can imagine how much watching a simple movie trailer costs, or even worse, having to fight off the updates that vie for control of my computer, and thus my wallet (I am thinking of the annoying automatic Google and Adobe Acrobat updates). Certainly these free updates weren’t designed to be financially burdensome. And they’re not, for most of you out there.

In America many of us wouldn’t give two thoughts about such things. Is it because we are used to excess? To a degree I’m sure, but then again, just being able to use a computer is a royal excess for many in the world who don’t have running water. I know a few such people. So hear my gripe more as a revelation of difference in culture, not as an affront on humanity! But in this case, I don’t think excess is the issue. Though the www is a global phenomenon, its practical venue is evidently sometimes expressed in ways that undercut its potential. Perhaps underlying it all is an issue of perception. In essence, the Internet [and other technologies] drive(s) American business, communication (both globally and otherwise), and development in numerous spheres. In SA, by contrast, it is viewed still as a somewhat extravagant tool (like percolated coffee!), used primarily for entertainment value. But perhaps I am overstating its presence in the States.

But now, I must count the cost of trying on the clothes before I buy them, so to speak. Perhaps at the end of the day such “on-demand” access simply isn’t yet “genetic” to a culture still trying to stand socially and politically on its own two feet. Needless to say, this culture is behind in offering useful contributions in technology and to/with businesses dependent upon it. I just can’t tell if this is because there is too much money to be made from unaware consumers who don’t have a category for how else it can work (yes), or if the typical “defensive” posture people and institutions alike take toward each other equates into a “pay before you pump mentality” (yes).

What I do (wrong)

For those of you who read my previous "What I Do" entry, here is a short list of activities I forgot to mention.

Whenever I go anywhere by myself, I almost always get in on the passenger side of the car (by habit). Then I have to get back out and walk around to the driver’s side. I’ve done it four times in front of our neighbors. I get out and force a laugh and they look at me and wonder why I’m grinning like an idiot and what it is about the passenger seat that I find so fascinating.

Today I gagged down a hockey puck that South African’s like to call an Aspirin pill. It was enormous and just hard enough to get stuck in my throat. It was also soft enough to leave a trail of Aspirin powder in my mouth. Afterwards, the directions informed me that I was to dissolve the pill in a full glass of water before taking it. (jerks)

At the grocery store I try my best to limit my food purchases to what I can carry myself. The parking lots are full of attendant-men who want to help me and want to be tipped for it. I constantly find myself in the situation where help is forced upon me and then I have no Rands to give and I feel the need to apologize to the man who doesn’t understand a word I’m saying anyway. As the check-out lady is bagging my groceries, I’m looking at the bags strategically and deciding which ones will go on which arm. I'm always confident that this is something I can do, but inevitably, by the time I make it through the mall and outside, I have a split in one bag, the biltong is dragging on the ground, the bread is smashed, and egg yolk is leaking down my arm. Instead of being the independent woman who can carry her own groceries, I suddenly turn into a attendant-man magnet.

What I do

For those of you who are wondering what it is I do with my time, let me tell you.

On some mornings I like to exercise my talent for procrastination. This morning is a prime example. I’m sitting in the sun, its warm, I’m happy. Why mess that up with chores?

On most days I get up and make breakfast, which for those of you who know me well, must be shocking. We eat at about 6:30 and then Randy starts his research at 7. I usually type out some emails and spend quality time kissing and/or berating the dogs.

Then I clean. You’d think with such a small space, our place wouldn’t get too dirty. But considering that we live in a horse-pit, dirt happens. I sweep this up every single day. And that’s just downstairs.

I do the dishes, take the dogs out, etc, etc. Then I spend about 4 hours writing. I told myself if I ever had free time, I would finish the two books I have going. Because I learn so much about my writing by completing a novel, I’m starting with the one least likely to sell. It’s a sci-fi. Pure, fluffy fun. I’ve written close to 300 pages but only 160 of it is usable at this point. Then I’m going on to the heavier book. Maybe by then I’ll have learned a little something about sentence structure. It’s amazing how many words I use that really don’t exist. Oh well.

I also spend at least an hour or two a day getting ideas together for the store I work for in San Antonio. They’ve launched a new web-site and I’m going to be changing it around and adding new stuff. www.MeandMyHouse.com

Really, I do a lot on the computer. I had to cut all my fingernails off because I’ve started wearing off the letters. The “E” is almost a gonner (non-word!)

So that’s my daily life as of now. I’m sure it will change, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts (although I get random urges to push furniture around or climb up a ladder with a drill….).

Here is a picture of a tree growing off the side of a cliff by the sea.

Here’s the picture that didn’t get published of our walk through the neighborhood. We’re just about to take a lovely picture and Wumpy starts gagging on something. (This is his ugly face).

Heather

The Hood

Randy and I both needed to get out of the house today (I know it sounds like that’s all we ever do, but really we spend a lot of time indoors writing). So we walked around the “neighborhood”. There is a long dirt path running between properties that horse riders like to take. About halfway down it, there is an old graveyard that is now grown over.

Isn’t that strange? You would never find an old graveyard stuck in between two houses out in Glen Ellyn. These are just a few shots we took on our walk.

Oh, and here’s a cockroach picture from yesterday (launched by popular demand). This is one little section of the rock that I cropped so you could get a better view.

And another picture taken off the cliffs that I nearly died climbing....

This is the official tip of the cape.

Cape Point

We’ve had quite the weekend here in Africa. On Friday night we went into Stellenbosch and had dinner with Randy’s advisor and some of their friends. It was a setting I would have never pictured myself in(surrounded by an unusually brilliant older crowd). Thankfully I was able to fall back on my, “I’m an artist” excuse and that seemed to make up for my lower IQ and smaller vocabulary. But they were great. We ate Snoek right off a flaming cart in the backyard.

Today, Sunday, we went with Bernard and his brother Ishmael to Cape Point (the edge of the continent). After Bernard was done with work this morning we went and picked up Ishmael and headed out. It was foggy and rainy and we were a little worried, but by the time we climbed the mountain leading to the cliffs at the end of the world, I might have tossed myself into the ocean had there not been mist.

We saw a whale, a bunch of ostriches, and out by a sea-kelp area, we found more cockroaches than I’d ever seen in my life. But not normal ones. At first I thought they were slugs, if that tells you anything of their loveliness.

On the way home we rounded a bend and nearly collided with a traffic jam due to a pack (gaggle? flock? pride? herd?) of Baboons. There were about seven of them laying in a pile in the middle of the road picking fleas off each other. More of them wandered in between cars and one of them even mounted the Isuzu in front of us. Only in Africa.

After that we came home and had soup and chocolate. Those guys are so nice. We discovered that they both lost their parents when they were small children (They’re not actually brothers-Bernard is Ishmael’s uncle). Now they have nobody. Ishmael said that he didn’t know how hard life would be when he grew up (they are 24 and 25). Life here is so limiting for them. They don’t really have the option to go to school. They are both Malawi refugees, which means hard work, very little pay, and an existence that doesn’t involve a refrigerator or running water. But they dress nice and take care of themselves (although I probably outweigh both of them by about 50 pounds)

Overall it was a good day off for all of us (….actually, I have every day off…)

What, the curtains?

(My favorite Holy Grail quote)

Not much going on these past couple of days other than some extra time with Bernard. As I’ve told a couple of people already, we’ve seen a lot of crazy, spectacular things since we’ve been here, but nothing has impressed me like the shanty-town Bernard lives in. I went with Randy to pick him up yesterday and the whole town was off to work and school. The narrow, dusty streets were crowded with people all walking towards the main road, stopping off at the fruit stand, saying hi to al their friends. The conditions are frightening, and yet these people manage to look clean and pressed and ready for work and school. Hundreds of kids ran through the streets in their uniforms on their way to school to try and fit in with all the white kids who have the luxury of toilets, bathtubs; basically anything with running water. It really impressed me.

Bernard came in and had coffee with us and I wondered what he thought of our little house. For once I was glad that we don’t live in absolute splendor. No TV, no stove. But it’s still obvious that even our dogs live better than he does.

I wish I had pictures of his town. I’ll get some and post them. They’re amazing. All I have right now are the absurd photos of the new curtains I’ve made. Here they are.

On another note, the remnants of our American life are slowly running out. Like our last tube of American toothpaste. Gone. They have Colgate here, but it’s weird. I bought a tube of Colgate “Flavored with Eucalyptus and Melissa!” Whatever it is, nobody should ever put it in their mouth. It feels like I’m wiping my teeth off with a plant.

Bernard

Hello, it’s Randy again. I thought I would say a few things about Bernard. Bernard is like many people in South Africa. He is an illegal immigrant trying to find work and to make ends meet. Bernard has twin (identical) daughters in Malawi, his home country, and hasn’t seen them in six months. He works as the horse groom, among other things, on the plot where Heather and I live, making 50 rands a day (= roughly $7 US dollars) for hard manual labor. He cares for the horses, feeds them, shovels manure, digs trenches for irrigation on our “farm” and attends to any and all other jobs the landlady gives him to do. I see him cutting down trees, repairing the roof, and mending fences from time to time.

I ask Bernard how to say various things all the time in his native language, Xhosa (sounds like Koza with a long o), and I think as a result he has come to like me a good bit. His English is rudimentary, but we still manage to communicate just fine. I give him rides home occasionally since his bike ride is 40 minutes each way. He lives in a former “township” (a “shantytown” outside of the main town), which is a place where blacks and “coloreds” were forced to live during Apartheid (Black, white, and colored, are still terms used in this society to designate people groups, the present South African “progressive” politics in other social areas notwithstanding). Blacks are still regarded as the lowliest people group by many. Since Apartheid finally fell a little over a decade ago, the practical daily life of most poor people in this country really hasn’t changed. Those who were formerly oppressed are still economically disadvantaged and in most cases live exactly where they did 20 years ago.

Bernard is a very polite and gentle person who works hard and doesn’t complain. Yesterday I took him home and asked to meet his brother, Ishmael, whom he lives with. Bernard went to get Ishmael and was gone for several minutes. While I waited, I was surrounded by little kids unattended. I decided to look for Bernard around one of the buildings and made my way into a labyrinth of doorsteps, only to think better of it since I could easily step into someone’s house without knowing it. The boundaries between houses are often separated by regular cardboard. I didn’t know where he went so I headed back. When I came around the final corner my car was full of kids, two crammed behind the steering wheel and two others in the passenger seat. Others were in the back. As I approached the car one of the kids quickly locked the door and smirked at me. He then proceeded, in his imagination no doubt, to drive down the road in a shiny 78 Mercedes. An old man appeared and began shouting something in Xhosa, which only made the kids rebel even more. Bernard appeared, appalled, and told the kids to get out!! Of course I didn’t care. I thought it was funny, probably because I also had the keys.

Today I took Bernard home and he invited me in. He had an excessive grin on his face as he opened the door as if to say, “I know this place is a dump and I am extremely embarrassed about it, but this is where I live nonetheless.” I anticipated his feelings about his neighborhood since he had asked me many questions about America as we drove to his place. His flat was roughly 12 feet long by 6 feet wide. He and his brother live there in the single room partitioned by a dirty sheet. They have no bathroom, running water, or refrigerator. Someone must have given him a rather nice TV, but all else was dilapidated and ruined. The walls were made of 1/8 inch pressboard and other cardboard materials. There were open holes in the roof and the whole place looked as though it would fall over in a mild wind. He had a small green plastic tub, barely large enough to stand in, for taking a bath. I don’t know where the water comes from for that. He owns a single electric burner for cooking food. He pays 500R a month for it (=$70), a sizable amount in South Africa, and an exorbitant amount for a place like his. Knowing Bernard is both fun and convicting. It is hard to look at one’s own circumstances as at all lacking when other people truly are poor.

The locals

Hi, y’all

It’s been cold and rainy so I’ve had very little log-time this weekend.

Yesterday Jim and Juliana came over for a couple of hours and we walked over to a fair in the field across the street. It was more of a hippy-fest than anything else and the people were more interesting than any of the booths. We ran into Audrey and Françoise (and the parrot and the dogs) so the Giesers got some first-hand experience with our daily reality.

After they left we had coffee with our psychiatrist neighbors who are creating this new approach to counseling that involves physically acting out your feelings. We were both asked to make sounds and then give the physical manifestation of those sounds. Can you picture it? I’m too inhibited and/or repressed to act out the sounds “Aaar” or “Eeeee”. I did, however, manage “Hmmm”.

So far we haven’t met anyone here who has a normal occupation. Like an accountant. Where have all the accountants gone?

Yesterday I gave a tube of zit-crème to the stable-guy. He’s a 23-year-old refugee from Malawi and he overheard that Randy is doing doctoral work so he came over and asked what the bumps on his forehead were. His English isn’t very good, and he’s usually really shy about it, so its funny that he would come over to inquire about his acne. Randy explained that the doctoral work he’s doing doesn’t involve medicine but Bernard still wanted to know what to do about the breakout, so I brought down some Neutrogena

On-The-Spot treatment and gave it to him. Who would have thought that God could use zit-crème to open the doors of communication? And to think that all these years I have been cursing the very existence of the pimple.

Wumpy’s doing better. (Still going bananas every chance he gets). He’s just a little crusty now but he’ll be healed up in no time. I’m extremely bummed that we still have no phone. Right now we don’t have any power either. Good thing we have a fireplace and a propane-fueled camping burner for a stove.

Meet the Landlady

This is my second blog today, but I couldn’t resist posting this photo. This is Audrey, the landlady and Percy the parrot. They were on their way out for a walk with the dogs and I snapped this picture. Audrey used to be a drama professor at the University of Cape Town, but she is now retired. She lives with her daughter Françoise. Her ex-husband lives next door with the woman he is now married to. Audrey introduced them after the divorce and thanks her lucky stars that they hit it off. We get a daily kick out of this woman. :)

Misc Information.

So today is our first day to get up at 6 and go for a jog. It’s surreal to be surrounded by a spectacular morning display of sunrise, mountains, palm trees and pastures and to feel nothing but pain and nausea. It was our first day, though. Hopefully it will get better.

It’s been cold lately. Yesterday around 5:30 it started to rain and the sun came out while it was still raining. We were eating dinner and I said, “Ooh! I bet there’s a rainbow somewhere.”

Randy said, “Look behind you.”

So I looked out the window behind me and there was the brightest full rainbow I’ve ever seen in my life. It seemed to land right in our neighbor’s backyard. Randy went out and got a few pictures, but of course the pictures are never as bright as the real thing. Still, you get the idea. I was shocked at how intense and separate every color was.

Yesterday I got my first American magazine in the mail. I was so excited to read a little slice of America. I ripped the package open and had to laugh at the fact that there was a South African on the cover. Charlize Theron. So I got to read all about her and her South African self. I just can’t escape it.

Wumpus got into something which gave him an allergic reaction. His snout swelled up as well as his ears and the top of his head and now everything is oozy. Blech! Poor Wump. We took him to the vet and they gave him a shot and gave us medication for him. I was shocked at how cheap the whole thing was. I’m just glad it’s not some weird African disease. But who knows what he stuck his head in (or ate).

No phone yet. Apparently there has never even been a phone line in our flat, so we have to dig a trench. It will be a while…..

Phone Guy

I know I’ve written from the horse-paddocks before, but this time it’s special. Last night Randy found a signal out in the upper paddock, so I can now sit on a log and check my email. It feels strange to be sitting in nature with my lap-top and my cell phone, a pile of horse manure off to the left and 7 roosters to the right. This is actually one of those moments that I’m extremely thankful for. The whole trip was worth experiencing one hour on this log. It’s calm and cool and I’m surrounded by animals that are ignoring me. Bliss.

The phone guy is supposed to be here at 8. Its 8:10 now. Pray for our phone service! I need to call my mama. She doesn’t have internet. Like I told somebody yesterday, I can’t wait to have a few phone conversations and find out how people are doing. We can blab on and on about ourselves on this blog, but we never really know what’s going on there. I have so many questions. How are my siblings? How is my home/store in San Antonio? Is everybody feeling alright? Did Gwyneth really file for divorce? We have our new, cheap little phone, now we just need a phone guy. Come on, phone guy!