From Joey: South African News: Edition 4 September 1, 2006
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Edibulisa u Tata u Mama u Bhuti u Sisi u Abu Undwani,
Nkosi Sikelela.
I just realised that I have yet to use any Xhosa in my email (for
those who are wondering, Xhosa is technically pronounced with a click
for the first syllable, but those who cannot pronounce the click will
often just say Ko-sa). I just said that I greet the fathers, mothers,
brothers, sisters, and little children, and may God bless you. Simple
enough, but seemed like an appropriate beginning to this letter, since
I am writing about a rural area of South Africa called the Transkei
and very little English was spoken there. I learned some basic Xhosa,
including greetings and words like Sorry and Come Here and Pass and
Well Done, all of which came about by playing soccer with the local
boys. Even out in these dusty hillsides the boys have remarkable
natural soccer skills… it makes me a bit envious. But I get ahead of
myself.
Sae-yun and I drove up to Transkei together, which is said to be about
a 12 hour drive (we made it in 10.5, seeing as how we often hit 160
km/h). I was allowed to drive, despite the switch to the left side of
the road, and I ended up driving during the hour that we were in snow.
Yes, it snowed in Africa, but you must realize that Cape Town is
about as far south of the Equator as Oregon is north, and we were
driving through mountains in the middle of their winter. At any rate,
Sae-yun was kind enough to let me drive in the snow, seeing as how he
had never done that before.
We were staying in a town or area called Qotubeni (another click in
this one), which consists of many round huts (made of mud bricks, but
usually plastered and painted a bright teal or pink color) around
several taps on the side of a hill. Most of the huts were in groups
of 2-4, based on families. The floor of the huts was compressed dirt,
covered in cow dung that had dried there (apparently it was good
insulation and protected against something– once it was dried it
didn’t smell at all). Strangely, nearly everyone had a cell phone,
even though some of them owned nearly nothing else. Perhaps it was
early materialism, or just the overlaying of modern on an area that
looked so tribal and primitive, but it didn’t seem appropriate to hear
ringers in every mud hut.
Sea-yun and I arrived early to help with the building of a clinic,
but the necessary supplies hadn’t arrived on time, so we spent time
preparing for the team and just enjoying the slow, quiet lifestyle.
The team would be staying along with us in the hut of a remarkable
woman named Mama Silvia. She was the pastor of a church in a
neighboring town, and was also helping the church in Qotubeni after
their pastor passed away several months earlier. She had an extra hut
in which she ran a pre-school, and this is where most of the team
would be staying.
The team consisted of 7 Canadians from Toronto (3 brothers and 4
girls, all in their 20s) and 4 translators, all of whom were coaches
for the netball league ran by AfricanLeadership back in Khayelitsha.
They were supposed to arrive at 2 am via bus, but it was delayed and
Sae-yun and I waited for 3 hours at the bus stop along with our “taxi”
(which is actually a small Nissan pickup with a cover on the back–
typical capacity: 12 people). The drive back in the dark with only
one headlight working alongside 40 ft drops was a bit harrowing.
The team and I were in Transkei only from Monday through Thursday
noon, so we did our best to maximize our time. Every day a 3 pm we
had a Sunday School (held in the local church building, built by
Pastor Ohm et al. several years before), then a Youth service at 4:30
and a church service at 6 pm. The first day was sparsely attended,
but at the 2nd and 3rd Sunday School we had upwards of 80 kids attend.
Playing games, learning new songs, hearing a Bible story, and making
a small craft were the typical activities, always followed by improptu
soccer sessions before and afterward. Jess, one of the girls from
Toronto, did a series on how God can make each of us a new creation,
using simple nature lessons as an example. I am not sure who enjoyed
the Sunday Schools more, the local kids or our team. Nonetheless,
seeds were planted. Pray that these may be watered and grown by the
faithful women in Qotubeni and later teams.
The Youth and Adult services were a bit more challenging, partially
because it would begin to get dark and many of the people had to walk
a considerable distance to get to the church. We shared songs and
testimony every night, as well as having someone preach the Word, but
except for one night, the number of local people was typically equal
to that of our team and the local ladies of the church. The church
that I visited in Transkei consisted mostly of older men, children,
and a few mothers. Very few young men and women were active in the
church– partly out of the need for looking for jobs, but also it
seems like they don’t understand the need and see church as something
for old people and children. The young men are often involved in
heavy drinking and marijuana is becoming a very valuable commodity–
this was all quite discouraging and needs our constant prayer– that
the ministry of the church could reach these young men and that the
children’s ministry could be effective in preventing these
self-destructive habits.
On Tuesday and Wednesday mornings we walked to a neighboring area (I
forget the name) and split into groups of 3 (2 foreigners, 1
translator) to do door-to-door evangelism. Going door to door meshes
quite well with the culture, as they are very welcoming of visitors
and love to talk about anything. I went with Jess and Nokuzelo to
several houses, and 3 in particular stood out to me. At one, a young
girl name Busiswa was there alone. We talked for a while and found
out that she and her mother were Christians, but her father was
indifferent. She talked about how he didn’t like them praying for
him, and that he simply was not interested at all in Jesus and what he
had done for her. She was only 16, and yet wanted badly for her
father to know the Lord. Jess shared some encouragement from the Word
and we prayed along with her. At a second house, there was a woman
who was injured in one leg (perhaps a stroke?) and another woman who
we quickly discovered was a witch doctor. She had been trying to heal
this woman, and as we talked with them both, the shaman kept
interrupting and subtlely opposing what we said and did. Jess and I
really had no idea what to do, so we just talked for a while and then
prayer over the woman. The witch doctor left after about 20 minutes,
so we were able to talk more freely with the woman, but pray for the
hold that spiritualism has on these people; they still live in fear of
spirits, and some native beliefs often get mixed in with Christianity
to make a strange, disconcerting religion.
The final house was a man who was a Jehovah’s Witness, and we engaged
for quite some time in debating (which was difficult to do through
translation). No progress was made on either side, but we left on
good terms with the man. But pray for this particularly: these people
are looking for something more than the materialism that is slowly
taking hold, and Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses and Muslims are
moving in to try and fill that void. The harvest is very ripe, and
the workers are few. Pray that God will provide the messengers to
carry the Gospel, and that the laborers there already will be able to
show the local people the Truth and the Way.
One more very important thing: I am sharing a slideshow and will talk
about the trip this Sunday, the 3rd of September, at Sprague Community
Church in the town of Sprague, WA. I apologize for the short notice,
but the scheduling changed just yesterday. If you are in the area, I
would love if you came; many of you are far away so you will just have
to get by on these few words that I send in email. (if anyone wants
directions, email me and I will get them to you– it’s right off of
I-90). Pray that God will speak through me as a share several times
in the next month or so, at home and at Stanford.
And remember, even though summer is over, there is a bright spot: football.
For The Kingdom.
Joey Klein
