Skaapkop

Christo, my co-worker, said he brought a treat to share. It was in the microwave, he said. When the microwave beeped, I opened the door to find a... sheep head! Half a sheep head, to be specific. "This is skaapkop. Look - here's the brain, here's the eyeball, and here's the tongue! This one's peri-peri flavoured." (deep breath) Okay....

The brain tasted like livers, but I like livers, so that was okay. The eyeball... Christo got out a knife to flick the eye out of the socket, and when he did this black gel bulged out of the centre. Elsabé piped up, "We don't eat that part in Namibia." Christo said, "Well I do," and popped it into his mouth, leaving the rest of the gelatinous eyeball. I didn't want to eat the eyeball - I REALLY didn't want to eat the eyeball - but I had to admit (to my shame) it was delicious. Elsabé and Christo just laughed at me. "Not bad for an American," said Elsabé. The tongue tasted like roast beef, but I've had beef tongue before, so sheep tongue wasn't that different (except that Christo was sitting next to me saying, "I wonder what that sheep has licked in its lifetime...." ).

Dan joined in the fun, and when every last bit of meat was picked off the skull I said, "I think I know what vultures feel like." "Come on," Dan said. "We're carnivores!"

Maybe... but I still can't believe I pulled a sheep head out of the microwave.

We're Still Not the Nel Family

Remember the bad day I wrote about in which someone by the name of Nel (who owes a lot of money to the city) put our address on their electricity bill? That problem still hasn't been solved! Our electricity has been cut nearly every day this week.

Trying to figure out bureaucracies in one's home country is hard enough, but when you're in a foreign country, where do you go? Who do you talk to? How do you handle things? We pay our bill every month, but to a different company. It's weird that some other company can just come in and cut our power.

So today we drove out to Akasia to the "Finance Building" of the City of Tswhane. We met with a woman who tried to help us for an hour. She did all she could and then said we had to phone an "Inspector" to come out and inspect our property, make sure we are who we say we are, that our property address is our property address, and that we are not the Nels. Dan has been with the inspector now for over an hour. They've gone through a pot of coffee, and the problem still isn't solved.

Amazing how one typo can adversely affect the wrong person. It's also amazing that we only care about what affects us directly - I care about this injustice because it affects ME. But do I care about others? Jesus commands us to care. "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?" - Isaiah 58:6-7

This whole electricity mess has caused me to realise that I need to care not only about what affects me, but about what is right for everyone.

Mid-Week Prayer

"O God, You are my God,
earnestly I seek You;
my soul thirsts for You,
my body longs for You,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.

I have seen You in the sanctuary
and beheld Your power and Your glory.

Because Your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify You.

I will praise You as long as I live,
and in Your Name I will lift up my hands."
- Psalm 63:1-4

"I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." - Philippians 1:2-21

One of My Favourite Shops

We pass this shop often when we go out to Soshanguve. Public phone, chicken pies and umbrella repair - all under one roof! I love the entrepreneurial spirit in South Africa. With a little creativity and a good attitude, there are opportunities around every corner.

Just Because You Found a Shop....

... doesn't mean its shelves are stocked!

On first glance, Pretoria looks like any large city - shopping centres, infrastructure, rugby stadium, etc. But every now and then something is there to remind me that I'm not in America anymore.

Yesterday I went to four different ATM's before I found one that actually had money to dispense. Sometimes the supermarket will be completely out of meat, milk, or whatever I happen to need that day.

Last week I went to the photo counter at a shop to have some photos printed from my flash drive, and the man who helped me didn't tell me until after I had placed my order, paid, and had the photos printed that the printer was out of ink. I took a look at my photos (which were all a sickly grey-blue colour) and asked him why he didn't tell me that ahead of time. His reply - "Some people don't mind if their photos look like this." I then had to go through the process of getting a refund, which involved filling out form after form and was almost as much labour as trying to get a work visa from the Department of Home Affairs!

I really have to fight the tendency to complain because the truth is - it has been good for me to learn to improvise, be resourceful, find creative dinner solutions when there is no meat or milk to be found. When you don't have what you need, there are almost always other options. I am also learning to be patient and content. If I don't get my photos printed today, is it really the end of the world?

Growing up in the United States, I had access to everything I needed or wanted. I am learning now that not having everything at my disposal can actually be a blessing. The people of South Africa are so good at finding ways around their challenges, their lack, their frustrations. If I had never left the U.S., I would never have seen that, and I would have missed out on some amazing ingenuity.

Philosophical Musings on Cross-Cultural Experience

Yesterday Dan and I were talking about what it's like to live in another culture. Dan, of course, has more experience in this arena as he has lived in three countries. I was telling him that living in another culture, for me, has been one of the loneliest experiences of my life, but also one of the most enriching. He asked me how it was enriching, and I had to think for a while before I could articulate it. Here's what I came up with:

1. Living in another culture has shown me more than anything else that missions (and life) is all about living somewhere and loving people with the love of Jesus. It really is that simple. All of the -isms and -ologies, while good, can't take precedence over the simple act of loving your neighbour.

2. When you live in another culture you are neither in your home culture nor fully at home in your "host" culture. In some ways you are "outside" of all culture, which allows for an interesting perspective on both cultures' strengths and weaknesses. It is like standing on top of a hill and looking down to see something: you get a completely different perspective when you're on the hill than down in the valley.

I have to wonder - no, I have to think - that Jesus often felt lonely and outside of culture while on earth. He could fully identify with man, to be sure, but He was also fully God and in that regard, not understood by man (at least, not by most).

It is strange and yet comforting to see loneliness as being one of the most enriching experiences of my life. It is also strange and yet comforting to see Jesus in a completely different light. It makes the Bible come alive all over again for me.

Why Macadamia Nuts are So Expensive

I got this bag of macadamia nuts thinking it wouldn't be so bad to crack the shells. I was feeling smug because the bag of nuts was cheaper than a can of shelled nuts. I was trying to enjoy one of South Africa's foods (South Africa is one of the world's largest producers of macadamia nuts and the single largest planting of macadamia trees is also in South Africa). I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong!

I have never struggled so much to crack a nut before! I finally ended up holding the nut in one hand with a pair of pliars, and then beating the nut to death with a hammer in my other hand. After about 15 blows (per nut!), the shell finally fragmented and exploded all over my garage floor. I needed muscles, I needed a macaw parrot (they are apparently the only animal that can crack the shell), I needed protective eyewear... I needed the can of already shelled nuts!

This morning my daughter came in from the garage holding half a shell. "Look at this, Mom! I don't know what it is, but isn't it pretty?" Grrr.....

All I can say is, whoever invented the machine that commercially cracks macadamia nuts deserves every cent he/she gets!