Cast of characters

We have met a cast of characters while on this adventure.  Rufus Luttig, who spoke at Birchwood in January, is the real deal when it comes to African hunter, missionary, host and liaison.  I told him at dinner one night on his “farm” that he would be the archetypal Great White Hunter except for his way too soft hands.  (We were all holding hands while praying and I couldn’t concentrate because of them).  I am a pastor and my hands are twice as rough and calloused.  It became a running joke.  Rufus would just laugh and say “Oooohhhhh!”  He explained that it was his gloves from America that made all the difference.  His wife Almarie is a picture of grace with strength.  They are an incredible pair. 

Michael is a bachelor living in Port St. Johns who adopted two Xhosa daughters.  He makes his living battling the torrent where the Umzimvubu River bangs into the Indian Ocean; taking brave (or naïve) groups along the Wild Coast.  Until that day I had never “surfed” in a boat.  Michael comes alive on the ocean.  He marvels at God’s glory in creation and testifies to his authentic relationship with the Maker.  

It was while we were out on his boat bouncing across the peaks and through the troughs of 2.5 – 3 meter swells (looked like three stories to me), that I realized some people know how to live.  Some people exist and some people live.  I think I pass a lot of my time somewhere in the middle.  I want to learn how to live!  Sorry if it sounds too much like a beer commercial moment.  But really, isn’t that what John is saying when he says of the incarnation, “In Jesus was life and his life was the light of men.”  No one has ever been more truly alive than Jesus - more fully engaged with the Father, with people and with his surroundings in every moment.  Something to think about when we let the moments just pass by.

Reflections...

South Africa is a land of contrasts.  On our way to Addo Elephant Park we drove through the township of Motherwell (among others).  Townships are the very depressed areas outside of the major cities.  During the apartheid era, only whites could live in the cities and the townships were for the blacks that could enter the city only during specified times and with proper papers to work (serve). Across the road from the township is the most massive cemetery I’ve ever seen.  We didn’t get a chance to get out and walk through, but I’m told many (hundreds/thousands) of the graves are for the very young.  AIDS has taken and incredible toll on the black population of South Africa.  “The sickness” as it is called is a taboo subject; misinformation and superstition abound.  Upon our return the orange-yellow lights on tall poles dotted throughout the township cast the most eerie and haunting glow over the shanty houses that stretched as far as I could see.  The condition of the road and the attempt to concentrate on keeping left while sitting on the right side of the car kept me from spending as much time as I would have liked taking in the surreal panorama. 

We arrived back in Port Elizabeth and had Nandos fast food Indian cuisine.  I’m planning on opening a franchise in Lee’s Summit; I think it will go over fabulously.  From there it was to the hotel and a look over King’s and Hobie Beach as the Indian Ocean powerfully said farewell to the day.  As I said… Contrasts!

Port Elizabeth R&R

Abbey and I stayed behind the rest of the group a couple of days in Port Elizabeth before we start the long trek home Sunday.  We journeyed through Addo Elephant Park and will do a little shopping today.  And yes, the beach is about 100 yards from our hotel!

I'll start putting up some posts reflecting on this incredible experience soon.  I think they'll kind of bubble up and out.

I want to thank everyone for their prayer and support.  It's always difficult to know if something is life-changing until you have time to reflect upon the memorials and memories.  I believe this experience will prove to be life-changing but I'm hesitant to overuse and overused expression (although I think I just did).  

Back to you soon.  

You've never seen anything like this

Jehovah-Jireh!  It means "God is my provider."  Abraham named the place where he almost sacrificed his son Jehovah-Jireh.  God provided a ram caught in a thicket to take the place of Isaac on the alter of sacrifice.  Jehovah-Jireh is the name of the orphanage in Port Alfred that is run by a wild-woman of faith named Molly.  Orphanages are officially against the law in South Africa, though the authorities reluctantly allow Jehovah-Jireh.  Schaun (with Oceans of Mercy) came across her after she had committed to God that she would never turn an orphan away.  By the way, she and her husband had only one child of their own at the time. Kevin Costner heard a voice say, "If you build it they will come."  Well, if you commit to take in orphans in Port Alfred in the Eastern Cape they will come.  Pictures cannot do justice.  (And you must not think with an American mindset about standards, codes, cleanliness, blah... blah... blah.  Life and love are better than death and neglect.)  Jehovah-Jireh houses anywhere between 75 - 100 children, many are infants.  All this in a home roughly the size of an American three bedroom ranch with a couple of rooms crudely added!   More children are left at the front gate every weekend because their parent(s) are drunk and there is no food.  It is a sight that cannot be explained, only experienced, smelled and felt.  After we left Roy mentioned that many of the littlest ones that we saw would probably not be there in the next year or two.  If God loves AIDS babies, I guess his people (his church) should too.

  

YEP!

Adventure Africa!

Magwa Falls and KFC

Wrong side of the van - stay left (shift left)!

Bukwini Village (Sorry i can't get captions to match pics)

        

 

School lunch - no corndogs and fish sticks

Abbey's a big hit with the girls

Hippo Rollers to Bukwini

Finally some pics!

They call me Mister Pig!

Warning: parts of the following will be offensive to certain readers including card-carrying PETA members and those who wax nostalgic while singing “Akuna Matata” (think Lion King).

We woke to an incredible (over-used word this week) sunrise over the African hills at Rufus’ farm.  After breakfast it was off to hunt some wart hog.  If you were to see one of these satanic-looking little things I would not have to explain the following: We were hunting for meat to take to feed the Bible school students at Port Alfred’s.  We jumped into the safari seat in the back of the Landcruiser and bounced over the hills.  Rufus’ helper Fuyani, who has the most incredible “bush eyes”, spotted a couple of wart hogs and the stalk was on.  I shot one and when we got him back to the house all I heard was how cute he was (from some of the women) and how much smaller he was than the one Roy shot last year (from Roy… over and over again!).*  I reminded Roy I was shooting for Jesus and to feed the young men and women who were doing his work and that I gladly forwent the glory of a personal trophy for the tender meat of a younger smaller Satanic-looking animal. 

On the public road near Fort Bofurt we drove by an old game preserve.  We saw a giraffe and a pair of black rhinos just off the road. Like goofy Americans at a petting zoo, we all got out and walked toward them to get pictures.  One of the rhinos must have gotten aggravated and charged! We piled into the van just before he reached us.  Then he came after the van and caught the side door with a two-foot horn…

JUST KIDDING!  We did see them and get out – like goofs – but no charges.

We wrapped up the evening with an incredible dinner and reflection on the time in the village.  At this point, everyone is having difficulty articulating exactly what they’ve experienced and are feeling.  Tomorrow we’re off to visit the Bible school and Jehovah-Jireh orphanage.  CAN’T WAIT TO GET SOME PICTURES UP!  

*I saw the skull of Roy's pig and it was really big (but i still think he shot it for glory and not for Jesus)

Later that day...

What a day… to begin on the Indian Ocean and then have lunch at Magwa Falls.  We waded across a the upper stream and hiked up a bit.  The payoff was an unbelievable view of a 400 foot waterfall and gorge.  Careful – no rails or ropes here; i.e. no tourists.  Of all things we had KFC at Magwa Falls, Transkei, South Africa.  It tasted like chicken (unlike some of the things we ate in the village).  After an incredible lunch we said goodbye to our JAM friends and began the seven-hour drive (more like roller-coaster ride) to Rufus’ farm near Grahamstown.   Upon arrival we had a quick snack and crashed in our second real beds of the week.  

Lean in and take it like a man!

We made the drive into Port St. Johns last night and stayed at the Spotted Grunter. Wow… showers and real toilets! We met Michael Hale. Several years ago Michael packed up a couple of donkeys and hiked into the Transkei to do ministry. The faith I’ve run into is amazing & humbling. Michael took us on his boat, a 5.5 meter that is inflatable above the hull. You sit on the side and hang on! We put out in the Umzimvubu River at around 7am. The mouth of the Umzimvubu bashes into the Indian Ocean with a violence I’ve never seen. It takes skill and guts to select the right waves and troughs to negotiate passage. Michael reads the sets of waves, picks the right line and hits the throttle. Derek and I were seated near the bow; Michael said to us, “when we hit a big one, lean into it and take the impact like a man.” It was an incredible ride. We went 20 kilometers down the Wild Coast. I now understand why it earned the name. Several times bottlenose and common dolphins swam in front of the boat or jumped around us as sea birds dived like bombs falling into the water. I wish I could describe the rugged beauty of the untouched coast.
Next its off to Lusikisiki to meet up with the JAM folks for a KFC lunch.

Day 4 Bukwini Village

Many of us went down sick… I’ll post more about the day later

 

Day 3 Bukwini Village

This is what we came for.  No group that has come to Bukwini has stayed in the village at night and no group has made home visits.  (Back to staying in the village in a moment). Today we divided into teams of three to four with a Xhosa-speaking interpreter and visited the homes of the caregivers of sponsored orphans who are on the food distribution list.  I wish I could describe what we saw… heard… smelled.  Rufus, Ghehardt, Roy and I stayed behind in the morning and talked (I mostly listened) strategy for the Transkei.  When the first team returned from their morning round of visits, several immediately burst into tears when they entered the room.  What they experienced was overwhelming.   

Small round mud/dung huts, hot…hot…hot – oppressive and dark.  18 people lived on one, with a mother who was dying of AIDS.  She was scared.  The hopelessness of the situations was overwhelming.  In some houses though, we encountered joy, especially in the children.  We measured and weighed the children, took blood pressures, and measured the heads of babies.  We were checking to see if they were malnourished.  In one hut a team encountered a 13 year old boy whose dad had died and his mother abandoned him.  Basically she was a prostitute.  (Odd, because in most of the homes there are no fathers.)  The boy was completely alone and fending for himself.  He had only what he was wearing.  I’ll post more about these visits later.

We’ve taken over the home of the village committee leader Ndinjani and his wife.  They seem honored to have us feeling at home.  “At home” is relative.  I won’t write about the bathroom situation here, but will let the pictures speak for themselves later.  We are eating things we would normally not eat… sleeping on the floor of a thatch-roofed hut… washing (or attempting to) by standing in a small bucket… and generally living like the villagers.  Man, it would be a tough life.  Did I mention that it’s HOT?  And then it pours down rain.