10 Suggestons for Helping your YAGM Return Home

Written by Andrea Roske-Metcalfe, the Mexico Country Coordinator

Borrowed From A. Steele's Blog: http://andrewsteelesa.blogspot.com

1. Don’t ask the question, “So how was it?” Your YAGM cannot function in one-word answers right now, especially ones intended to sum up their entire year’s experience, and being asked to do so may cause them to start laughing or crying uncontrollably. Ask more specific questions, like “Who was your closest friend?” or “What did you do in your free time?” or “What was the food like?” or “Tell me about your typical day.”

2. If you wish to spend time with your YAGM, let them take the lead on where to go and what to do. Recognize that seemingly mundane rituals, like grocery shopping or going to the movies, may be extremely difficult for someone who has just spent a year living without a wide array of material goods. One former YAGM, for example, faced with the daunting task of choosing a tube of toothpaste from the 70-odd kinds available, simply threw up in the middle of the drugstore.

3. Expect some feelings of jealousy and resentment, especially if your YAGM lived with a host family. Relationships that form during periods of uncertainty and vulnerability (the first few months in a foreign country, for example) form quickly and deeply. The fact that your YAGM talks non-stop about their friends and family from their country of service doesn’t mean that they don’t love you, too. It simply means that they’re mourning the loss (at least in part) of the deep, meaningful, important relationships that helped them to survive and to thrive during this last year. In this regard, treat them as you would anyone else mourning a loss.

4. You may be horrified by the way your YAGM dresses; both because their clothes are old and raggedy and because they insist on wearing the same outfit three days in a row. Upon encountering their closet at home, returning YAGMs tend to experience two different emotions: (1) jubilation at the fact that they can stop rotating the same 2 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts, and (2) dismay at the amount of clothing they own, and yet clearly lived without for an entire year. Some YAGMs may deal with this by giving away entire car loads of clothing and other items to people in need. Do not “save them from themselves” by offering to drive the items to the donation center, only to hide them away in your garage. Let your YAGM do what they need to do. Once they realize, after the fact, that you do indeed need more than 2 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts to function in professional American society, offer to take them shopping. Start with the Goodwill and the Salvation Army; your YAGM may never be able to handle Macys again.

5. Asking to see photos of your YAGM’s year in service is highly recommended, providing you have an entire day off from work. Multiply the number of photos you take during a week’s vacation, multiply that by 52, and you understand the predicament. If you have an entire day, fine. If not, take a cue from number 1 above, and ask to see specific things, like photos of your YAGM’s host family, or photos from holiday celebrations. Better yet, set up a number of “photo dates,” and delve into a different section each time. Given the high percentage of people whose eyes glaze over after the first page of someone else’s photos, and the frustration that can cause for someone bursting with stories to tell, this would be an incredible gift.

6. At least half the things that come out of your YAGM’s mouth for the first few months will begin with, “In Mexico/Slovakia/South Africa/etc…” This will undoubtedly begin to annoy the crap out of you after the first few weeks. Actually saying so, however, will prove far less effective than listening and asking interested questions. Besides, you can bet that someone else will let slip exactly what you’re thinking, letting you off the hook.

7. That said, speak up when you need to! Returning YAGMs commonly assume that almost nothing has changed in your lives since they left. (This happens, in part, because you let them, figuring that their experiences are so much more exciting than yours, and therefore not sharing your own.) Be assertive enough to create the space to share what has happened in your life during the last year.

8. Recognize that living in a very simple environment with very few material belongings changes people. Don’t take it personally if your YAGM seems horrified by certain aspects of the way you live – that you shower every day, for example, or that you buy a new radio instead of duct-taping the broken one back together. Recognize that there probably are certain things you could or should change (you don’t really need to leave the water running while you brush your teeth, do you?), but also that adjusting to what may now feel incredibly extravagant will simply take awhile. Most YAGMs make permanent changes toward a simpler lifestyle. Recognize this as a good thing.

9. Perhaps you had hopes, dreams, and aspirations for your YAGM that were interrupted by their year of service. If so, you may as well throw them out the window. A large percentage of returning YAGMs make significant changes to their long-term goals and plans. Some of them have spent a year doing something they never thought they’d enjoy, only to find themselves drawn to it as a career. Others have spent a year doing exactly what they envisioned doing for the rest of their lives, only to find that they hate it. Regardless of the direction your YAGM takes when they return…rejoice! This year hasn’t changed who they are; it has simply made them better at discerning God’s call on their lives. (Note: Some YAGMs spend their year of service teaching English, some are involved in human rights advocacy, others work with the elderly or disabled, and at least one spent his year teaching British youth to shoot with bows and arrows. The results of this phenomenon, therefore, can vary widely.)

10. Go easy on yourself, and go easy on your YAGM. Understand that reverse culture shock is not an exact science, and manifests itself differently in each person. Expect good days and bad days. Don’t be afraid to ask for help (including of the pharmaceutical variety) if necessary. Pray. Laugh. Cry. This too shall pass, and in the end, you’ll both be the richer for it.

Favorite South African expressions and Sayings: Lingo for the Linguist

‘n All
 An Indian expression adopted by most South Africans, meaning “and everything.”
“He took my TV ‘n all”, “Things are sometimes better off simple, you don’t always need that ‘n All, ‘n All, ‘n All”

Ag, Nee Man! [ach, neer man]
Oh, No Man!

Amped
 Keen, full of energy, looking forward to.
“I’m amped for the concert this weekend!”

Babbelas [bub-buh-luss]
A Hangover (Derived from a Zulu word).

Baggies [bag-ees]
What Americans refer to as Swimming Trunks, this refers mainly to surf shorts males wear.

Ballie [Ba-li]
Assumed as “Old Man”, also used a term for father as in, “I went to visit my ballie the other day”.


Bakkie [buck-ee]
A Pick Up Truck

Biltong [bill-tong]
Raw meat, salted, spiced and dried – Similar to Beef Jerky but much better. Bilton is commonly made from Cow, but Kudu, Ostrich, Elephant or any other type of meat will generally do.

Biscuit
 Otherwise known as a Cookie.

Boerewors (wors) [boor-uh-vors]
Thick South African, “Farmer’s Sausage”. It has a distinct flavour and is encased in intestine. Also referred to as “Wors” and used in Wors Rolls, which are like hotdogs with boerewors instead of everyday sausage.

Boet [like book, with a t]
Afrikaans word for “Brother” (See Also Bru).
“Hey Boet”

Braai [br-eye]
Similar to a BBQ, but takes longer resulting in beverage consulting and shooting the breeze.

Bru [Brew]
Bro (See Also Boet).
“Hey My Bru!”

Camp
 Gay
“Man, those shorts look so Camp”

Check
 To Look
“Hey, come check this!”

China
 Term of affection for Good Friend
“Hey China!”

Chop
 Idiot (See Also Doos, Plank).
“You’re such a chop you know that”

Chuffed 
To be happy or pleased with (See Also Stoked).
“I’m quite chuffed with the results from last week’s exam!”

Dodge
 If something is Dodge, it is suspect, derived from the word “Dodgy”
“Hey bru, that last pie looks a bit dodge”.

Doff
 Stupid.
“What were you thinking, are You doff ?”

Doos
 Idiot (See Also Chop, Plank).
“Doos!”

Dop [dawp]
Alcoholic Drink or To drink.
“Buy me a dop” or “I’m going to the bar to dop”

Dos [dors]
To sleep or nap.
“I’m buggered, I’m gonna go dos”

Eish [aysh]
A Zulu word used to express shock, wonder, sympathy and on occasion “sigh”.
Peter : “My car was stolen yesterday…” John : “Eish! Sorry Man”
Hendrik : “I got an A+ on my exam!” Owen : “Eish! Well Done” (Really!)

Hectic 
Meant in the usual Chaotic sense, but can also mean to have a chaotic good time.
This word can even be used to express sympathy.
“Traffic was hectic today”
“That party was hectic bru, man you missed out!”
“Hey, I heard you didn’t pass your drivers test, that’s hectic bru, I’m sorry to hear it.”

Hey
 Used for emphasis in South African slang.
“What you up to, hey?”

Howzit 
Greeting for “Hello” can also be a combination of both “Hello” and “How’s it going?”, commonly used in the sentence
“Howzit My China!” or “Howzit My Bru!”

Is it? [izzit]
Commonly used in the sentence “Is it hey?” Translated into “Really?”

Ja
 Afrikaans for “Yes”

Jislaaik [yis-like]
An Afrikaans expression of outrage or surprise.
“Jislaaik, did you see how that taxi just cut me off!”

Just Now 
In the “near” future (See Also Now Now).
No promise of exactly when, a much longer time period is involved than with Now Now.

Klap
 To hit or smack (See Also Bliksem, Donner).
A.A.K – Attitude Adjustment Klap.

Lank
 A lot or extremely.
“This lecture is lank boring.”

Larny 
Posh or expensive. Can relate to anything from houses, cars and clothes to any other possessions.
“That’s a larny house hey”

Lekker [lekk-irr with a rolling r]
The Afrikaans word for “Nice”, has more zing to it don’t you think? Nowadays it can also be said to mean Great, Good, Cool or Tasty. Often heard used in a sentence such as “Lekker soos a Krakker” which answers the commonly asked “How are you doing?” question in a most hearty manner.

Mealie
 What Americans refer to as Corn on the Cob.

Miffed
 Another term for the commonly used phrase “Pissed Off”.
“Wow, what did you say to her?! She looks pretty miffed.”

Mission 
Used to describe when someone is not taking advice from anyone else or if someone is very determined.
Can also be used to describe undertaking a task which is a lot of effort. (See Also Schlep).
“I tried to talk him out of it, but he is on his own mission.”
“She is on a mission to find out what happened last night.”
“Taking out the garbage is always such a mission.”

Mozzie
 A Mozquito.

Now-Now
 In a bit (See Also Just Now).
Quicker than just now, still no guarantee of exactly when.

Oke
 Guy or Bloke, “He’s a good oke”, (See Also Ous).On a Mission
Visible determination to complete a task. Cannot be persuaded.
“I tried to stop him from doing it, but he was on a mission.”

One Time 
More of an Indian term, used to describe something being done quickly and easily.
“Don’t worry, I’ll wash it for you one time!”

Pitch Up
 To arrive (See Also Rocked Up).
“I pitched up wearing my new jacket”

Plank
 An Idiot (See Also Chop, Doos).
“I felt like such a plank hey!”

Rock Up 
To arrive somewhere. (See Also Pitch Up).
“I rocked up at the mall around 9am”

Robot 
What Americans refer to as a Traffic Light.

Sarmie 
A Sandwich.

Shame
 This word is often used to express sympathy in a cute manner.
“Ag Shame Bru”, “Look at that cute little kitten, ag shame man!”

Shot
 Thank You.
“Shot hey!”

Slap Chips [sl-up chips]
Fat french fries, usually soft and oily. Slap is Afrikaans for “limp”, which is how French fries are generally made here. Except for at McDonalds, where they only serve anorexic chips.

Slops
 A type of sandal, you can’t go to the beach without ‘em!

Sorted
 Taken care of
 Hennie : “Did you do the dishes?”
Hendrik : “Ja, it’s sorted!”

Takkies
 What Americans refer to as Sneakers.

Tune
 To backchat or insult someone in an effort to cause trouble.
“Hey Man, Don’t Tune Me Grief!”

Voetsek [foot-sak]
Afrikaans for “Bugger off!” or “Get Lost” / “Go Away”.

Vol Kak [fol kak]
The Afrikaans way to say “Full of Sh!t”
“Jy is vol kak my bru!”

Yonks Ages. "Hey China I haven't heard form you in yonks."

Is the global Healthcare system diseased beyond repair?

A few thoughts from March….Sorry its taken until the end of April to post.

When looking back, I think I can categorize March as a month of visits and events and as such, it was a very busy and exciting month. It was also another month that allowed me to accompany both the “haves” and “have nots” of South African society and continue to struggle with the question who am I hear to be with. In other words, I have come across and spent time with those who have power and privilege as well as those who have little or no voice and opportunity to succeed in the eyes of those with power. The question that many people deal with in this country on a daily basis, myself included, is where do I fit or belong in this mix? By the very nature of where I come from and what I represent I am one with privilege and thus people in town and around my community treat me as such. At the end of the day though, I am bothered by the fact that people treat me differently just because I am white, American, educated, and privileged yet I still take advantage of that very privilege I have done nothing to deserve.

The most obvious example of this came early on in the month when I sliced my hand really quite badly late at night when I was trying to open a window to get some air in my stuffy and hot room. Long story short while I was opening the window it jammed and in the process of trying to un-jam it and in a way force it open the window gave out and my hand went right through the glass. Immediately after I saw how deep the cut really was and that I would need medical attention, I surveyed what I had to my disposal to get me to the hospital. With no car, it being much to late to fetch a taxi, no neighbors around to give me a lift, I decided to phone a friend who I knew would have a car. About 30 minutes later I was on the road to La Verna Hospital, the “best” private hospital in the area, and about an hour from the time in put my hand through the window I was seen by the doctor at the hospital. 25 stitches later, and about 3 weeks of healing time my hand is about as good as new and fully healed with the exception of yet another scar on my already thrashed hands. I am very grateful for how the situation panned out. The fact that I had a great friend who was able to pick me up in the middle of the night and drive me 40 minutes to the best medical care and then on top of that pick up the bill until I could pay him back in a few weeks time is just a small token of the great hospitality and loving nature of the folks in South Africa.

But the accident itself isn’t the point of where I am heading here. The point is what did I do to deserve this type of care? I cant get the thought out of my head of what would have happened if this accident would have occurred to my neighbor or what I would have done if I was part of the have nots part of society rather than the privileged haves part where I have access to money and friends in high places. Should I feel bad about my ability to go to the “best” hospital in the region when I know that if a similar situation had happened to my neighbor he may have not even had the means to make it to a hospital that evening let alone the next day? At the end of the day the best way to get to know your neighbor is to live with them, eat with them, travel how they travel, wait for taxis as they wait. But what about when it comes to ones health and well being in an emergency situation? Is health care an exception to the idea of accompaniment? I have to be honest the first people who came to mind when I needed to phone for help were not my neighbors or anyone who even lives in the rural area. I immediately phone a white person who had money and a car without even so much as a thought to my own community. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to think that I did not go to a public hospital and have to wait like my poor and marginalized neighbors would have if they could even make it there. Yes, I acknowledge that my health is important and with how deep the cut on my hand was there could have been some serious complications had I not sought out the best care, but what does that say about what I represent and the power I have in this country. I can seek out the best care when my neighbor cannot. Is this not a simple matter of human rights and dignity? Why should the poor and marginalized have to suffer just because they cannot afford something? How is it that if this had happened to anyone else in my community they would have had serious complications and risk not ever having full functionality of their hand again? And lastly where is the line drawn when talking about accompaniment and living in community with the poor and marginalized?

In the states we face a similar situation in the form of insurance rather than public and private health care facilities. Every day people are turned away from proper medical care because they can simply not afford to be seen while the people who run the medical world are getting fat off of the profits. Back home it is often not the situation of white and black but of poor and rich. Those with money are able to get care while those without are left outside. And so, the critical question to consider is what are we as a society doing about this? I am not suggesting that taxpayers or re-allocating the American “budget” is the answer to giving everyone free health care or health insurance. What I am advocating for is to shut down the pigs that are making fortunes off of health care and pharmaceuticals. It is just criminal that the health care industry and a very small list of people are making billions while many, if not most, people in the world are without proper care. I mean, the CEO of United health (a NON-PROFIT health provider in MN) made $142 million in the last 2 years. If that doesn’t raise more than a few eyebrows and pose a few questions about fairness then nothing will and this reflection has no point in being published.

January's Reflection

*Reflection from January. My thoughts on the past month (Feb.) will be posted just now. Sorry for the delays.

This has been an interesting month to think back on, reflect and then write about. It has been a time of transition and clouded by frequent visitors. It is the halfway month of my time here and it really hit me as I reflected on the questions that always float through my head of what am I doing here, who am I hear to serve, what can I learn, what is in store for me after YAGM (yes I know, scary question). It was a month of transition in that halfway through the month I returned to my “home” outside of Loskop after being away in the mountains for a month and had to get back into the swing of things. I found myself once again living alone and with plenty of time on my hands to reflect, read, and talk with those I live around and with. Overall it was a bit of a tough month. Cultural differences, visitors, a few general frustrations, looking forward to family visiting and the perpetual question of whether or not I am needed or appreciated around my “home” at the center brought about a few long days.

It can be hard to, in a sense, sit back and work on relationships and solely living with those you serve. That has been one of my major challenges this year. I was brought up to work hard and do the best job I can do at a given task. But at the end of the day I don’t think I am here to work. I am here to be a representative of the Lutheran church and to represent the idea that I have come to learn from those I live around. I still find it a bit strange that there would be no emphasis in really putting a long term volunteer to work daily within the church and community as I work for FREE and enjoying doing so. But I think this is a cultural difference from back home and it is just the way it is. People enjoy just spending time in conversation and getting to know what I am all about. It has been very cool to see what just spending time with my “neighbors” has produced. I am welcomed and greeted by name even so far as 20km from my house by total strangers because I have been living with and among my fellow brothers and sisters from the surrounding areas. I am not saying that my white face has always been welcomed as a friendly face at the shebeen, in Estcourt at the taxi ranks, at the market or in Gorton at the rural taxi rank and market but the first step to loving your neighbor is to choose to live and spend time in their neighborhood, eat what they eat, shop where they shop, travel how they travel, and wait for time to happen as they wait for the same thing. The friendships with my neighbors of a different race and socioeconomic background have been created over time not overnight. It takes time for people to cross barriers and layers of misunderstanding, hurt, and guilt that clouds and clutters many cross-cultural relationships.

Its one thing to visit poor people with donations, advice, and the idea that we are hear to teach “these” people, and we are here to show “these” people how to do things cause they don’t know how. It is an entirely different thing to stay and walk with them, to be willing to show our own needs and humbly admit “we” are the ones that really need to learn how to do things and how to go about living a more fulfilled life, and to take on a piece of their sorrows and troubles in solidarity. I will never fully know what another human who lives in my area goes through on a daily basis. I know what its like to walk on the side of a gravel road and dodge kombis by diving into the weeds and grass as they pass by blaring SA house and hiphop beats. It reminds me of the famous advice to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. But no matter how far I walk around Gorton, Empangheni, the Kwaz, or Estcourt, I will never know what it feels like live and be brought up in a traditional Zulu society where unemployment is high, people scrape by on welfare grants, and the HIV rate is around 50 percent of the adult population. What I do know is that when I get home to the US or as I travel around with my family the next couple of weeks I will think about my brothers and sisters in the rural areas as I wake up in warm beds, air-conditioned rooms, a large breakfast spread, a car, a college degree, etc. and ask the question how I am different and what did I do to deserve this. Its not a guilt ridden question, but it is a question that will remain in the back of my mind as I obviously come from the “developed” world, I will always have the advantages of a good education, a network of (hopefully) employed educated friends and employed relatives, the freedom to walk into a church without feeling threatened, and a lifetime of role models. I think the main benefit and blessing of my time so far is that it forces me to make an attempt to imagine, even go so far as try to experience, what life is like for someone else with fewer advantages in life and to question why. At the end of the day if I don’t maintain this awareness I will be missing a beautiful piece of how god loves people.

Justifying an Adventurous Month

Sorry I havent been too good at updating my blog lately...between the combination of no internet and my computer going down with a broken charger it hasnt been the best couple months technology wise. this reflection was written based on my experiences during the holiday month(s) so it mostly looks at my time in December. the January post will be up just now. cheers

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This past month I was blessed with the opportunity to head to the Drakensburg Mountains and work at the Champagne Castle Adventure Centre for the holiday season and when I think back on this past month I think I could write about 5 different reflections on a variety of topics, yet I struggled to put to words any of the emotions, feelings, and overall reactions from the past month. I think the main reason for this is that it was an amazing and incredible whirlwind of a month. This past month included my first (and maybe not my last) African Christmas and New Years, a whole new “home,” meeting many great people, and working in a whole new environment that drastically varies from my normal “home” and work in South Africa. The month was full of early mornings, long nights, braais, after hour adventures, and too much wors.

Working at an adventure centre was a great fit for me as I have a deep love, to the point of addiction, with adventure sports, mountains, and getting that adrenaline kick. I might go so far as to say that if I go for an extended period of time without getting my adventure fix I find myself getting irritable easily, bored, and generally anxious to get out and “do” something, much like a habitual smoker who has been deprived of their cigarettes. The adventure centre offers activities including: white water kayaking, abseiling, jumping from a 6 meter platform and swinging between trees, zip lines, and white water tubing to name a few favorites. But at the end of the day, the question of how this fits into my year in SA and my role as an ambassador and representative of the ELCA and ELCSA remained in the back of my mind.

The very first thing that any of the clients I took out on an activity would ask after hearing me speak was to find out where I was from. That then led them to inquire what an American is doing in the middle of the Drakensburg Mountains in South Africa. Which, at least the first couple times I was asked, led me to really deeply think about “what I am really doing here.” The response I gave was that I am a long term volunteer from the ELCA in partnership with ELCSA and that I ended up in the mountains for a few weeks working at Dragon Peaks while my normal work was shut down for the holidays. Sometimes that was the end of the conversation and then I would proceed to walk off the side of a 25-meter cliff and that was that. But many times, often times, it led to a much deeper and lengthy conversation about projects I am involved in, where do the kids I work with come from, what kind of church is ELCSA, is ELCSA different than ELCSANT, and what are my viewpoints on faith, religion, and politics. I was also asked why SA and not another country that was more developing or why even leave the US; “you guys have poor people too right?” Now, one of the major parts of the methodology and goals of ELCA- M.U.D is “ministry” and another is “Upstream.” In addition, Throughout my time in SA there have been a few consistent “themes” that have been brought up and discussed around our role here and what are we really looking to accomplish. The theme that repeatedly comes up is rooted in the idea of accompaniment. The idea of accompaniment is that an individual walks hand in hand, in solidarity, on the same playing field with another individual. Now what better to experience accompaniment than to take someone who is deathly afraid of heights and have to “walk” them through stepping backwards off a 25-meter cliff so that they can abseil down, while at the same time discussing my role here within the church and my service with the poor and marginalized people of SA whom are often forgotten about by the very people asking me these questions at Dragon Peaks. By discussing my work, the reasons I decided to become a part of YAGM and how I ended up in SA I was able to change how people view post graduate young adults from the states and bring up important issues like division within the church and why I am a volunteer for ELCSA and not ELCSANT. The last point became particularly interesting when I got into a deep conversation with an ELCSANT pastor about my service here and how it ties with ELCSA while we were out abseiling. I do think it’s a bit interesting that most people, who are within the “Lutheran” church, generally know where I live at Kwazamokuthle based entirely on the fact that there is a VERY nice ELCSANT church just up the road. It always takes a bit of convincing and putting up with some upturned eyebrows when I explain that I am with the ELCSA church down the road before the nice ELCSANT church. Many people in the area have driven right by my ELCSA church on their way to their ELCSANT church and never even seen it.

Another part of my service in SA is to work on becoming “globally formed and globally informed.” Working at Champagne Castle Adventure Centre was like working at the United Nations. Every day I had the opportunity to work with people from all over SA, India, Europe, Asia, etc. This gave me the opportunity to tell people from really all over the world why I was here, who I was working with, about the M.U.D and YAGM program and how my time here fits into the larger global picture. On the flip side I was also able to hear opinions and thoughts about M.U.D and YAGM from entire different viewpoints and cultural backgrounds.

Lastly, when I look back on times I spent at Dragons working in the adventure centre for 4 weeks or so I think of the many blessings I experienced and witnessed. The biggest one for me was working in an environment that catered to a love for the mountains and at a place that was run by a very solid couple who rooted their business in faith. Each day before we went out on our various activities we would start the morning with a scripture reading, mediation on the reading and then prayers for safety and the day in general. Every one of the 8 people working at the adventure centre we rooted in faith so while we were having a late night at our little shack in the mountains we could have good conversations. We were all in the same place in terms of faith, a love for adventure and a love for the mountains.

Identity and Tradition

Lately I have found that it seems that some of the most challenging and fruitful periods of time that have occurred are when I have been able to get completely away from what others think, from expectations and daily demands, and gain perspective on why I am really here. The time alone in my flat in the rural area of Loskop, especially the last couple days, has really allowed me to think over the last few weeks.

I recently had the opportunity to travel with my local pastor deep into the rural areas, about 50km from the community I have been working in, to do house visits and spend some time with people who were no longer physically able to go to church on Sundays due to age, illness, or other physical conditions. We drove from one house to another, sharing the sacrament of Holy Communion and just spending time with elderly people who most likely do not have regular visitors. While I did not understand most of the conversations, there was always the time when the pastor would explain who I was and what I was doing and at that moment there was a certain shared feeling and bond between myself and whomever we were visiting with. Usually it came through in the form of a great smile and a thank you; not that I was the one needing thanks, I should have been doing the thanking for the blessing I received in those moments.

It was very powerful to spend time with these folks but one thing that stuck with me even more than the house visit itself was one of the conversations we had while driving from one location to another. While we were driving along we got talking about some of the most common and important struggles that he faces in the 12 congregations that he serves. Living in a rural environment has its challenges. The same government that can build beautiful multi million dollar stadiums and host a fantastic World Cup soccer tournament often ignores the most basic needs of rural communities, such as wells from which people can pump water, so that it can focus the majority of its attention on building up and maintaining large cities such as Durban, Cape Town, and Johannesburg. It is in the rural areas, much like the Loskop area that I serve in, where the majority of South Africans live. The issues of the community that were brought up by the pastor included lack of proper education or below standard education, heath care, unemployment, water, and sanitation. In addition, while it wasn’t brought up in the conversation with the pastor, it has been brought up before in talking with other folks that many people in the rural areas feel as if they are no better off than where they were 20 years ago; which is a profound statement considering the apartheid laws at the time and the conditions in which people were forced to live.

Out of all the struggles of the congregations within which he works, the one struggle that struck me most was around the topic of identity; specifically, the identity of young Christian Zulu adults. The rural areas have a significant number of people who still embrace and practice traditional Zulu healing and other spiritual practices, thus Christians in the rural communities experience a large tension between their indigenous identity and the “western” Christian faith. To get a scale on how great this tension is, the local pastor estimates that somewhere between 70 and 80 percent of the people who attend a Christian worship service on Sundays and identify themselves as Christians also visit a Sangoma, or a traditional healer in times of crisis or to pray to their ancestors.

The identity crisis, or the uncertainty and confusion in which people are struggling with, lies within the question of whether it is possible to be a Christian and still practice traditional beliefs. While I have no answer to this question, I will try to voice the opinions of those in my community and within my church in an effort to put some understanding behind this major issue in the Christian church in Southern Africa. From my understanding, based on the conversation with the pastor, Church has adopted the viewpoint that people can essentially do what they want in terms of traditional practice and still be considered an active participant within the Christian faith and church. But is this really what Christ calls us to do?

To try and put some perspective on this issue, lets look at one of the most important and significant ways in which one identifies with someone or something which usually is through the use of names. The use of name is always a sign of ones identity. Whenever someone asks who you are the first thing you say is your name; it is the fundamental part of who we are. Yet if you look at times in the Bible when people come to know God, there are many examples of them receiving a new name (GE 32:28). This is symbolic to them leaving their old way of life behind and becoming a follower of Christ. Therefore, shouldn’t someone upon starting a life with Christ leave their old ways behind and only follow the way of life that Christ put forth for them? And wouldn’t this include leaving behind cultural practices that call upon ancestors and traditional healers in times of crisis in an effort to only rely and serve Christ? After all, God’s commands are found in scripture and are binding. The traditions of elders are not biblical and therefore are not authoritative. There is even a warning against following certain cultural traditions found in Mark 7:8: “You have let go of the commands of god and are holding on to the traditions of men.” There is a strong argument that upon getting to know and follow Christ, one must denounce their past ways of life and take up a new life in the eyes of God.

Yet, one would think there must be a way to preserve cultural practices without having it be a way of worship or a way of putting trust in a higher power other than the Lord in times of struggle or crisis. As Christians we are supposed to put our faith in Christ alone and not with anyone else. I think there is a way to acknowledge the Zulu traditions and to keep them within the Zulu culture such that one does not lose their heritage and their way of life. I don’t have the solution to this problem nor do I know if this is really the direction people should go in general. Or is there even a reason that someone should not practice their traditional beliefs, visit healers, and consult their ancestors if they are believers in Christ. Is there really something wrong about that or is it really just a unique expression of faith within a different culture that should be encouraged? The bottom line is that there are solid arguments in favor of both sides of the picture and it is a major struggle for people, as they don’t know who they are within their cultural heritage and their Christian faith.

In addition, I have found that in order to try and understand the identity of others one must understand their true identity first. This identity crisis is seen within our own culture as well. It is not so much of an identity crisis between being American and being a Christian, rather the crisis lies within being part of the secular American culture and being a Christian. I know I am guilty of treading the line between acting in a secular and in a “Christian” way almost on a daily basis. Whether it is the music I listen too, the books I read, the difference between catching me on a bad day and on a good, how I treat others, and generally how I carry myself, it is a constant struggle to identify with the Christian faith within the secular American culture that surrounds me each day. While the question for my Zulu brothers focus on whether or not a Christian can visit a Sangoma, my fellow American brothers struggle with questions such as: can I be a Christian and still listen to the popular filth that comes out of our radios these days, can I got to that party and have a few beers, can I watch that violent movie, can I support a government and a president that is actively facilitating wars in two countries?

It seems to me it would be a horrible thing to have to profess a set of beliefs against traditional and cultural ties, in order to remain in ones religion. Maybe I am too liberal in my religious thought, too worldly, or just confused as to what Christ asks of us. Yet, I have found that in the long run, it does not help to act as though I were something I am not. For my fellow brother and sisters here in rural SA, they are Zulus and they are Christians, and for me that is the bottom line. If the church tells them that they must denounce cultural practices in favor of the western viewpoint of Christianity there are going to be problems in the long run. What is most important is that everyone must try to permit themselves to understand the issues of identity within the Christian faith throughout the world so that we might really understand our fellow brothers and sisters and so that that understanding might change us and how we think. The bottom line is that as soon as a fellow brother or sister becomes a Christian their identity must change in some form or fashion. The question remains though how does that change reflect cultural ties and the deeper meaning who one is as a person within faith and traditional culture.

Lessons From a 6 yr. Old

I have come to the realization that life, in a general sense, is most enjoyed when it is experienced in a free flowing, moving, ever changing process in which nothing is fixed. Now that statement can have different meanings for different people but my feeling is that I find I am at my best and feeling most alive when I can allow the flowing experiences of life to carry me in a direction that appears to be forward and most often towards goals of which I am but dimly aware. Living with such a viewpoint immediately opens a vast and complex number of experiences ultimately shaping who and what I become. It also means that I try my best to live with an open system of beliefs, an ever-changing set of principles that I hold. But after all isn’t that what living and abroad is really all about?

One principle that I have started living by here that reflects this is the idea that when an activity feels as though it is valuable or worth doing, it is worth doing. This has led me to spending more and more time at the Kwethu orphanage in Gourton (small area just about 20k down the road from where I live) and through my time there I have been reminded of some of the most important lessons in life.

There is a popular verse found in the book of Proverbs 27:17, which reads “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” This verse has come up a few times in the first couple months here between other fellow YAGM and our fearless leader Rev. Konkol. Now I have to admit that the first couple times this verse from Proverbs was brought to my attention I looked at it from a real surface level approach without having ever truly thought about it in a deeper sense. Or truly experienced this. To “sharpen another” is to develop and mold one’s character and that is exactly what I have experienced in many ways from spending time at Kwethu. Though, my experience would lead me to re-write the verse (I hope that’s not a sin) to read: “As iron sharpens iron, so one child can sharpen the world.”

I have learned more in 2 months about sharing, hope, survival, love, and kindness through watching a 6-year-old boy by the name of Kwanele than in the other 22yrs I’ve been around. While sharing, hope, survival, love, and kindness are clearly not new ideals for me, I have never seen them acted out in daily life as fully as Kwanele embraces them. Kwanele has lived a tough life for someone who is only 6 yrs old. He was abandoned by his father, is HIV positive, only has 1/3 of a lung left due to TB when he was young, and has some other health issues that have an impact on his daily routine.

Despite the hardships that he has had to experience, Kwanele could quite possibly be the happiest (and cutest) kid I have ever seen. My heart melts a little bit each week that I am at the orphanage and Kwanele provides me with a model of how to live in a God loving manner.

Just last week I made a trek up to a store just a few meters from the orphanage to purchase a ma guina (deep fried dough…its quite delicious really). The first kid I saw upon my return was Kwanele, so I gave him a piece of the cake. While I was breaking off another piece for one of the other boys, Kwanele beat me to the punch by breaking his piece in half and giving it to a boy next to him. While this might seem like a small gesture, think about it a little deeper with me. Here is a boy who only eats a few meals a day and rarely gets a treat like a fat cake and yet before even taking a bite of the piece I gave him, he is ready to make his portion smaller so that another boy can savor the moment with him. In the book of Hebrews 13:22 we are reminded to “…not forget to do good and share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” But the teaching that really brings Kwanele’s act of sharing to light for me is similar to the story of the widow’s offering found in Luke 21:1-4. The poor widow gave what she had not out of her wealth but rather she gave all she had. In a similar fashion, Kwanele was willing to share really all and everything he had with the boy in a similar state next to him. Kwanele has no worldly possessions to share; all he has is the bit of cake I gave him and without even thinking twice he broke it in half to help out a friend. 2^nd Corinthians 8:12 tells us that “for if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what he does not have.” What matters here and in life is the willingness to share or the motive of true generosity no matter how small the amount that can be afforded is.

While there are countless other lessons and stories I could pull from the time I have spent playing and hanging out with Kwanele, I think his simple act of sharing is one that has moved me the most. I feel that many of the problems in the world today could be solved by a bit of sharing and looking out for the person next to you. The person next to you may be in a similar situation as you are, or in much greater need for something than you are. Either way, each and every person is a brother and sister in Christ so we must break off a bit of our own bread and share it with them.

Until next time...Cheers