Kumbambisana - to work together; unity

February, it is so hard to believe that it is February when it is so hot outside. It cools off a little at night, but because of what might be coming in the window, I sleep with my windows closed. Thank goodness I have electricity and a fan! It goes from room to room with me in the afternoon, evening and throughout the night. It is my best friend.

This week has brought more reunions with the people, especially the women of the church and in my Bible studies. It has been so good to see everyone after such a long time away. Either I must have looked pretty stressed before I left or my trip home did me a world of good (or maybe a bit of both) because everyone talks about how much better I look and how rested and happy I am. I thank God for the time spent in the US and for all the time I had with my dear family and friends both near and far - my church families and my biological family.

My friend Thoko and I went up to Lomngeletjane to re-measure the children for school uniforms and check on the progress of the school. Thoko is the woman in a red t-shirt with a black hat in the pictures below. She is the Social Concerns Manyano lady who I’ve come to know and love. It was so good to go back up there and see the teachers and the children. Progress is being made on the school, but there is a lot of work to be done before the school can be finished and registered, dedicated and opened. We would like to have it opened before winter comes because the temporary building will not keep the cold wind and temperatures out. While I was there, I learned that the children don’t have a temporary toilet. There is a pit toilet for the adults at the church, but the seat made out of blocks and cement is too high and too big for the children to use. Therefore, the children are going wherever they want to in what is the school and church yard. It is very unhealthy. I also discovered that someone had brought what looks like a big tractor tire to the school yard for the children to play on. Indeed, several children were playing on it when we arrived. However, upon closer inspection, the tire was full of very gross standing, green water. While we were there a member of the newly formed school committee which is comprised of parents and members of the community came to have a meeting with the teachers. I was able to point out these areas of concern and ask that they be rectified. He was also very concerned and said they would resolve the issues. He suggested maybe someone could puncture holes in the side wall on the tire so that the water could drain and that a small pit toilet could be dug for the children to use until the formal school is finished. It was very encouraging, but I will see if those items are actually resolved and how long it takes. Thoko and I came back after about 4 hours at Lomngeletjane. We thought we would be there for about an hour and a half. It was time well spent and several issues were raised by the school committee members, the teachers and I. We discussed the issues so that we could all work together for the common good. Kubambisana.

Today was another lesson in the ways of the Swazi’s. One of the things I learned today is the process used to verify that a child is an OVC (Orphaned and Vulnerable Children). The chiefdoms have “home based carers” appointed by the Chief’s inner council. These people are responsible for knowing and checking on the health and welfare of the members of the community. Each Cheifdom also has a Cheifrunner who does just what his name implies. It is his responsibility to make sure documents which need to be filed or obtained from the government are obtained. I am sure he has many other duties. But for the purposes of my work, he is the person who should have or obtain the death certificates to verify if a child is a single or double orphan. I will work with the teacher and school committee chairperson from Lomngeletjane to learn the process and then work with it to verify and register the OVC’s (orphaned and vulnerable children) that are and will be attending Lomngeletjane. This process is the start of what has to be done to register the children as an OVC so that the school can receive government subsidy for the children’s school fees. The subsidy isn’t enough to pay the entire fee, but it is better than nothing. It is a start to get services for the children.

What a day. Every day and each situation brings something new to learn and process.Thoko, Tembie and child being measured for school uniform.

Children singing at start of class.

Children playing on the tire at Lomngeletjane.

Back in Swaziland!

Sanibonani! (Translation: Howdy ya’ll!)

Thursday afternoon, February 21^st, I returned to Swaziland after 2 ½ months in the States. It was so good to visit with family and friends both old and new. I flew back to South Africa on Feb February 15^th. Unfortunately, I came down home with a stomach virus the night before I left. The few days in South Africa gave me some time to recuperate and meet with some people from the church in the Johannesburg area before heading back to Swaziland. Richard Bosart, of South Africa Methodist Volunteers in Mission (SAMVIM), drove me over. We arrived hot and tired around 4:00 in the afternoon. It was in the low 90’s and more humid than South Africa or than I anticipated. When we entered my cottage, we found it stifling hot and covered in layers of dust, cob webs, dead spiders and ants and no electricity or hot water. Richard and I unloaded his pickup and the trailer that was full of suitcases, and borrowed furniture. It was not fun. We didn’t know where to put things down because everything was so dirty, but we had to hurry and unload so we could be at a meeting at the church at 6:00 and there wasn’t a secure place to leave the trailer full of furniture. Sweat was pouring off both of us and we were filthy but we stopped what we were doing a few minutes before 6:00 to go to the meeting. It was wonderful to see familiar, loving faces, but in typical Swazi style, they were just starting to set up chairs for the meeting and most of the people hadn’t arrived yet. Finally people started coming, and then a few people left to go get some food, and more people kept coming. I still didn’t catch on. I assumed the meeting was to go over the status of the projects, some of which are running behind. When everyone had gathered and the food arrived, the welcome speeches started. They had arranged a welcome home dinner and gathering for me. It was so special! As I was greeting everyone and hugging those I had missed, I realized that St. Paul’s has become my second home and family. It was so good to be back. They showered me with love and a gift of a TV so I could keep up with news from home and the elections. (People here are more concerned about the elections in the US than most people in the US! Isn’t that a shame?) It was a wonderful evening, although I felt so bad that I was dirty, sweaty and had on pants when everyone was dressed up in their Sunday best.

Friday was spent driving to four of the schools to check out possibilities for projects for future teams. It was hot. I forgot to bring my straw hat back with me from the States. Luckily, Richard had packed an ice chest with some tuna fish for lunch and lots of water. After seeing the schools, Richard helped me get a few things done around my place and put up a shelf in the bathroom for me and changed out the shower head so I have a chance at getting a decent shower, when there is water of course. His acts of kindness were probably the most precious gifts of all! That evening we had an impromptu meeting with Rev. Kanana Nyameka, the new Superintendent of the Central Circuit, regarding on-going projects and what he would like me to focus on. Finally around midnight, we realized morning would come early and all said good night. Richard left Saturday morning after jumping my car which of course died about 5 minutes after he left. When my neighbour couldn’t get it to start using his battery, I called Bethuel and when he was able to come in the afternoon, I discovered that my battery is one that uses water and it was bone dry. He took the battery someplace to be charged over night. I spent the rest of the day unpacking, cleaning, and organizing. I have never sweat so much in my life, but I got it most of the way done. I feel like for the first time I really moved in and that I am much more prepared for life in Swaziland. Although, I must confess, there were a few times yesterday when I was so hot and sweaty that I wondered why in the world I have made this choice. I’ve been told that things will start cooling down at the end of March and then we will have liveable weather until October. I’m not banking on it, but am trying to keep an open mind.

Today is Sunday. I am finishing up a few things, but mainly observing the Sabbath with a day of rest. I even took a little nap after church because it is so hot at night, sleep isn’t very easy. I will update the blog with updates on the schools over the next week or so. Stay tuned.

Thank you so much to everyone for your love, support and prayers. I miss you all, but know you are with me in spirit. The little bit I understood of today’s sermon was about the need for companions during our walk of faith. I am so blessed to have so many companions to share my walk with, even if we are over 9,000 miles apart. God Bless you all.

Yesterday (Wednesday) was a “meeting” with the Bishop in Ermelo, South Africa, about two hours from Manzini. All I knew it that there were six of us going and therefore I was going to have to drive. Rev. Ngema said we should leave at 7:30 am. I wasn’t real thrilled to be going. One reason is I had made plans to have someone help me apply for my work visa before I come home for the holidays. Wednesday afternoon was the only time she could assist me. Also, Wednesday morning is my bible study and I would have to miss it which was the last one before leaving for the States. And, I must say, I have been getting increasingly more irritated with “things” in Swaziland. I miss home more than ever, probably because I can allow myself to miss it since I am coming home. This week has been full of ups and downs, but Wednesday morning I was particularly down.

Rev. Ngema called about 7:00 am and said someone wanted to meet with him at 7:30 so we would leave at 8:00. That was great. It gave me more time to relax and try to get more up beat. I had cut my prayer time short to be ready, so I had a few more minutes given back to me. I went to the church to pick up my car at 8:00 and there wasn’t any sign of anyone. Irritation set in. About 8:15 Rev. Ngema came out of his house and said he was still waiting on two of the people to come so I should get Siphiwe and Kabella and go on ahead. That was fine because I know the way to Ermelo.

The morning was cold and drizzly. On the way up the mountains to the border and then for a long way once we were in South Africa the fog and clouds were very thick. There were periods of outright rain. It was beautiful though. It reminded me of Northern California with the trees, mountains, green grass and thick, thick fog. It made me more homesick. It brought back so many memories of my childhood through adult years. We drove most of the way in silence. Siphiwe and I talk when we are alone, but Siphiwe and Kabella don’t talk much when they are around each other even though they are roommates. In a way I was glad, but in another way it just made me feel more alone and out of place. I was alone with my thoughts which I was struggling to keep somewhat positive, or at least not negative.

We arrived in Ermelo about an hour early. Come to find out none of us knew where we were going or what time we were really supposed to be wherever we were supposed to go to. (This is Africa.) Luckily we were able to get a hold of Rev. Ngema and find out the restaurant we were supposed to meet at. (This was no minor miracle since Swaziland phone cards don’t work in South Africa.) The occasion was not a meeting, but a thank you lunch for the clergy and their wives in Swaziland and a few of the neighboring communities. The restaurant was very nice. South Africa is such a different world than Swaziland. It never ceases to amaze me how different the two countries are. The Bishop thanked the clergy and the wives that were present for their service. He also introduced me – the missionary to Swaziland – and said some very kind words and thanked me leaving my home and family to come serve. I don’t think of myself as a missionary and I certainly wasn’t feeling very “missionaryish” at that moment, but I appreciated the kind acknowledgement. The luncheon was very nice, but I felt very isolated, alone and mixed up. It was very interesting to watch the two worlds trying to come together, but still staying very separate. The white clergy and wives pretty much all gathered together and were obviously all good friends. The black clergy, who were probably all from Swaziland, all stuck together on the other side of the room. Juliet, one of the local pastors from St. Paul’s and I sat together, but both of us were pretty much ignored by the other pastors and the two wives. I’m sure the Bishop could tell I wasn’t really part of either side and could probably sense my mixed emotions. He came over to me and asked me how I was doing. At first I fought back tears trying to say “I’m doing okay,” but then I had to admit that I had been struggling the last couple of days. He asked if I had water in my cottage, and I told him yes, I had it again. He then suggested that part of what I am experiencing is culture shock. It usually hits 2 – 4 months after someone has arrived in a country and is a general irritation of the way things are done or not done. He reminded me that Rev. Ngema is getting ready to leave his post on December 1^st so things are a bit more out of sync than usual. His words helped, but it was just one of those bad days.

When the luncheon was over, the three of us drove home in more silence. At one point I put on my sun glasses even though it wasn’t real bright out, but I wanted to hide the tears that just kept coming. By the time we arrived home I was tired, drained and had a headache. After sitting for awhile, I amazed myself by getting up and doing a few things in preparation to start packing. I went to bed but I didn’t sleep very well. I woke up tense and grumpy again.

I had things on my schedule for today that I wanted to accomplish before I leave to come home. Especially since Rev. Ngema is leaving and they are trying to get things organized and cleaned up for the new Superintendent. I needed to make it an early, fast, productive start of the day. However, once I started writing in my journal and praying, I just kept at it until I was ready to stop. All of a sudden, I didn’t really care what time I started to do other things. I needed my time with my journal and my God. I then went for my 20 minute walk around the soccer field next to my cottage. I could feel my shoulders relaxing as I walked. I had a great shower (Thank you Lord!), took the time to check my e-mail and was blessed to have notes from a few of my friends anxious for my visit home. My day started later than I wanted it to, but when it is all said and done I still managed to accomplish what I wanted to. As I drove first to Lomngeletjane (the new temporary school) to take them some food and then out to Khalakahle Primary (my favourite school) to take them some donations of books, I was in awe of the beautiful country side. The crops are beginning to grow and they finally got some rain out in the low veld near Khalakahle so the countryside was green. Once again I realized how much I have come to love certain things about this country. The children’s faces are so beautiful and they smile so easily. The head teacher was so happy to see me and of course was grateful for the books I brought. She wished me a very safe journey and happy holidays with my family and friends back home and said she is looking forward to seeing me when I return in January. That meant a lot to me.

When I got back to St. Paul’s I called a friend who is with Children’s cup to ask about someone she said they use to help get people’s work visas. The person called me back immediately. He has already come by to pick up all of my paper work. He is going to walk it through the process while I am gone. Hallelujah! This is another very big and important to-do off my list. St. Paul’s is a buzz of activity as everyone is preparing for the farewell service, meeting and celebration for Rev. Ngema on Saturday. Many of the people I have come to know were at St. Paul’s busily working so I was able to say “hi” and chat for a bit with many of my new friends. What a difference 24 hours makes. What a difference prayer makes. What a difference it makes to open up and let the tears out so that the beauty and joy could come in. I hear the little voice saying “you are not alone” and realize how blessed I am to have people in the United States who love me and are praying for me and people in Swaziland who are doing the same.

Please pray for me as I prepare to leave Swaziland and pray for travelling mercies as I fly from Manzini to Johannesburg and then after a 5 hour layover fly to Washington/Dulles with just two hours to clear customs and catch my flight to Austin.

Mawelawela Women’s Correctional Institution

I had the most amazing morning this morning. I was one of about 10 women from different denominations who visited Mawelawela Women’s prison to bring the inmates gifts, cakes, and worship with them. Unfortunately, this is one of those occasions when even if I could have taken pictures, it wouldn’t have been appropriate. This was the time to experience the moment up close and personal, not behind the lens of a camera.

I have never been to a prison before. I so admire people who do prison ministry, but the thought of it scares me to death. I think mainly because I wouldn’t know what to say or do and I am afraid I would say or do the wrong thing. So the way the Lord gets me to reach out to those who are imprisoned is to bring me to Africa, put me in a prayer/fellowship group of women who go at least once a year. The words “whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.” (Mt 25:45) kept going through my head. So I graciously accepted the invitation to go. I was nervous at the first thought of it, but I went with a deep sense of peace.

The prison is nestled in the hills out in the countryside of Swaziland. It is in the middle of very fertile farmland. We have had so much rain that everything was green and beautiful. We pulled into the prison and on top of the green gardens and hillsides there were beautiful multi-colored flowers and plants lining the road and path ways to the various buildings. Everything was kept very trim and clean. The guards and wardens were very pleasant and welcoming to us. They all had on a green skirt suite uniform with a black hat. They were very official looking and very impressive. Their welcoming smiles and greetings were very incongruent with their formal appearance. There were the obvious signs that we were in a prison - the tall fence with lots of razor wire looped around the top and the two sets of locked doors we had to walk through to get into the prison courtyard, which was also beautifully maintained.

There were about 60 women. All were dressed in a burnt orangeish-brown dress uniform. (Pants are generally not acceptable dress for women in Swaziland.) The funniest part was that those who were wearing sweaters under their uniform had a black and white striped sweater on under their uniform. If a prisoner has a child under the age of two when she is sent to prison or if she gives birth while in prison, the child stays with the mother until she is two when she must leave to stay with relatives. There were close to a dozen children under the age of 2 present.

We had our worship and fellowship in the dining hall. When we entered it, everyone was sitting patiently at the tables. There were guards sitting around the perimeter. The room was simple, with a high pitched ceiling and furniture that was anchored to the floor. The room had windows on three sides. The room was spotless. You could have eaten off of the floor. We brought in boxes and bags full of cakes, cookies, individual size bags of chips as well as individual bags each containing a washcloth, soap, Vaseline (for their skin) and a little booklet with a testimony about turning one’s life over to Christ. We also had stuffed animals and baby clothes for the children.

After we got everything situated, we started singing praise songs. The prisoners led the singing. As I watched the prisoners and guards joining in praise and worship, singing and dancing I could hardly contain my tears. The joy on many of the women’s hearts was overwhelming. The dancing of some of the guards and the warden is something you would just have to see to believe. We sang a couple of American praise songs and a couple of Christmas carols. There were a couple of testimonies and a short scripture reading with a sermon of sorts. When we were finished, the ladies came in a line to receive their gifts and so we could give each one of them a hug. Then they got plates and piled them high with cakes and cookies. And then it was quiet.

The women were so genuinely happy to have the time to worship. I think they were probably also so eager for that personal touch – the hug with the few simple words of “God Bless you.” It was so hard not to cry. I enjoyed receiving each and every hug as much as I enjoyed giving them. We were there for probably 2 ½ hours. In black Africa, you just can’t worship God in anything under that! On our way out, the Warden proudly showed us the building where the ladies sleep and the crèche for the children. I think the time there was as much of a lift for the guards and wardens as it was for the women. It was a prison and while I saw many sad eyes I saw so much love and gratefulness on the faces of each woman – inmate or guard. In a way I would have loved to hear each of their stories, because you know they all have them. But on the other hand, that wasn’t what I was there fore. Their story is really irrelevant. They are a child of God away from their family. That is all that matters.

I thought we would have some one on one time with the women, which not only frightened me because I wasn’t sure what I would say, but I was looking forward to it. We didn’t really have that one on one time, but the time we shared in song, dancing and worship was so precious. I wish you could see the video that is stored in my brain and in my heart. This was just one more day that I felt so honoured to be in Swaziland receiving God’s gift of love and fellowship.

Praise be to God!

The events of the last few days have been overshadowed by rain and car problems. My car overheated again on Thursday. We (Siphiwe and I) were stranded out in the middle of no where trying to figure out what to do. We finally decided we had no choice but to drive it a little further to see if we could find a house with water tanks or something. We found a small store that had a water tank truck in front of it. Luckily they sold us some water from the truck. Those that were in the store were right there with their buckets catching everything everything that came out that we couldn’t catch or use. I had to stop one more time before eventually making it back to St. Paul’s. By the time we got back I was hot, tired and not very thrilled about my car. I SMS’d Teresa to tell her I couldn’t attend the Thanksgiving dinner, went home to shower, but there wasn’t any water. I was a real happy camper. Luckily my best friend Laura called from California to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. It was 7:00 am her time, so she got to wake up to my tale of woe. Bless Teresa’s husband because he dove down Mbabane to pick me up so I could join them all for Thanksgiving dinner. It was wonderful even if I was hot and sweaty. Another couple brought me home. Coming down the mountain from Mbabane to Manzini it was very foggy. Then just as they reached my place it started raining. It thundered and rained all night long.

Friday morning was clear, hot and muggy and I had a car to deal with. It was clear that the person who looked at my car didn’t really know what was going on or how to fix it and it was also clear that I needed a radiator shop. However, I had been given the name of a good auto repair store in Matsapha (which is where the radiator shop is also). Matsapha is an industrial town not too far from Manzini. The guys wouldn’t take me to the auto repair place I wanted them to take me to (I don’t think they knew were it was but wouldn’t say.) but they did lead me to the radiator store. A big guy came out to look at it and said “take off the radiator cap and there won’t be the pressure on the radiator. It will be fine.” Well you can imagine I almost lost it. I didn’t, but they knew I was not happy about what they were doing and the fact that they hadn’t taken me where I asked to go. Friday was not my day of patience especially for auto repair Swazi style. Either the owner heard my response to their “solution” or happened to see a white woman at a car with three Swazi’s and decided he better come and see what was going on. Luckily he seemed to be knowledgeable, explained things that were along the lines of what I thought I knew, and he was very professional. The bad and good news is the radiator has to be replaced. I hope he doesn’t find anything else wrong.

I called one of my friends from bible study to come bring me home. I was so blessed that she could drop what she was doing and drive all the way to get me. She took me to the ATM in Manzini so I could start getting the money together for the repair bill. We forgot, the 23^rd, a Friday, is a payday in Swaziland. The lines at the ATM were very long. When I finally got up to the ATM, I pulled out the daily limit from the Swazi account I am using and then tried to pull the rest out of my US account. I forgot the pin. Great. (I think I have since remembered it, but now I don’t have transportation back to the bank to try it.) My friend took me home and I just sat down and decided to read a novel that one of my friends in the States sent me. It was wonderful to bury all my thoughts into the characters lives in a book. It was almost as good as going to a movie, except that this took longer, which was even better.

It rained again Friday night. I got up Saturday morning and didn’t have even a drop of water in my place. Go figure. It had been raining and it was still misting, but I didn’t have water. The mist continued most of Saturday until the middle of the afternoon when it started raining hard again and continued raining hard into the middle of the night.

The rain provided me a good excuse to curl up on my sofa chair and read until my book was finished. It was a treat.

The bad thing about the rain is that there was a church dedication of Nsuka Methodist Church which is in the hills about 12 or 15 km from here. And of course about half of the road is dirt. Because of the rain they weren’t able to completely finish the church, but the dedication and celebration went on anyway. This church is a very unusual design. It goes with the slope of the mountain. Therefore, the inside has natural stadium seating (benches) sloping down to the front of the church. The congregation has about 200 members. The church also had more children than I have seen at any of the church functions. They were so excited. It was a great service. The food, of course, was amazing. The ladies had to cook it in the old sanctuary because of the rain. Then they quickly cleaned it out and set up tables for the honoured quests to eat. Right as we pulled out of the church grounds to head back, it started raining pretty hard. I watched the torrents of rain washing down around my cottage for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. It was amazing. I hope the lowveld received some of this rain.

So far today there hasn’t been rain and I have had water. Luckily I have enough food in my refrigerator since I don’t have transport. Please pray that my car is fixed in the morning, that the overheating didn’t cause other issues and that I can find someone to take me to the bank and then to pick up the car.

This has not been the most encouraging or heart warming last couple of days. This is Swaziland. Nothing makes sense sometimes.