This Time for Africa

I don’t even know how to start this post.

 In the most un-cliché way possible, these past two weeks have been an once-in-a-lifetime experience. And this is coming from the girl who hates anything described as “life changing” or any other cheesy idiomatic expressions people use to depict trips and mission work. But here I am, using those words to illustrate to you what I experienced. God has shown me not only a lot about him, but also a lot about myself. Some of these things were easier to discover than others, and some were frankly difficult to swallow, but all needed to be explored, examined, and addressed.

Well, in case you haven’t figured this out already, I survived the planes flights. They were looooonnnngggggg and I have this chronic inability to not sleep on airplanes unlike many of my friends who took their naps for granted while I stayed up and watched on average three movies per flight. We had a day layover in London where we literally bolted through the city to get as much as the highlights in as possible in the 9 hours we did have. Which by the way, LOVE London. Not necessarily the touristy Picadilly Square, but more so the more local areas away from all the action packed areas that were filled with Olympic preparations. Definitely need to make it back there when I have more than 9 hours to spend.

Taking London.

We made it to Cape Town at about 8 AM on Friday morning and headed straight to The Team House. This house is located on the beautiful Noordhoek Beach and is perfectly stocked with Magnum ice cream bars, tea and coffee, and space heaters. Literally, I keep looking around and wondering if this was real life. Check out my pictures and see for yourself. The next two days were spent sightseeing, and it seems like we weren't really getting any of our work done, but I PROMISE, that comes later!

We look like angels and I dig it.

Seaside just isn't going to cut it. Ever.

Our boardwalk.

Oh, you. Casually standing on mermaid boulders.

To complete my Nelson Mandela biography (which by the way readers, is kind of a slow read, especially when you are reading it in a silent plane over the western coast of Africa), we got to go to the District 6 museum and get a history lesson on the Apartheid. After, we went to Green Market Square to souvenir shop. While others grabbed their rugby jerseys, bracelets, headbands, Zulu spears, and other such items, I got one coffee mug. So what if I'm not big on souvenir shopping! But I was a pro at bargaining...got my mug down 50 rand from original price. Get on my level. We also ate lunch at the Old Biscuit Mill, which was pretty much my favorite thing out of my entire life. I might be exaggerating, or I might not be. I had waffles with caramel, bananas, and whipped cream and they were glorious. Much of our sight seeing consisted of going up tall mountains and look at the many views. Breath. Taking. Day 1 was at Chapman's Peak, where it was too cloudy to see at all but we later returned when it cleared up. Turns out there was an ocean in that thick mist! Who knew! We also went to the Water Front Mall to do even more souvenir shopping. And I went against my own personal philosophy and got a t shirt. Come on guys, it was in the back of the rugby store, on sale, and says, "Pure Protea, 100% South African". I look like such a baller in it. Dinner that night was at Marco's and I sampled ostrich, kudu, and springbok (antelopes) and to answer your question, they all taste like steak.

District 6 Museum

Chapman's Peak.

Green Market Square. Check out that Inviticus themed scarf.

Old Biscuit Mill with my main gal.

The Water Front.

Old Biscuit Mill waffles from heaven. PS I'm not fat, Anne is just picky and doesn't like 90% of food.

That's the world cup soccer dome, what can you see from your mall?

Day 3 was spent going to church at King of Kings Baptist, and a local Cosi church in Masi. The Masi church was my favorite because it was all in Cosi, the clicking language of South Africa, and I think I sat down for 30 seconds total. We were up dancing, singing, laughing, and simply praising the same God that I worship at home in my church at home. It reminded me that God is a God of energy, and enthusiasm, a nice reminder especially for the week ahead. After church, we ate one of my favorite meals EVER at this farmers market down the street from the team house. I ordered the pie of the day, which was chicken, and it was exactly what I needed to warm me up and to accompany my cafe americano. My table also purchased a fresh baguette and dipped it in a bottle of olive oil. Divine.

Farmer's Market.

The view. Wowzas.

My lunch. Check out the heart! Oh and french fries = chips.

Our next item on the agenda was to go to Cape Point and Cape of Good Hope, the most south western point of South Africa. I  was very thankful that I opted for the skinny jeans and sweater route rather than maxi dress as we hiked up to the lighthouse on Cape Point. And while we trekked up, I was mainly trying to keep my breath, as well as keep my eyes peeled for baboons, and didn't really understand what awaited me at the top. When I finally arrived, I looked out over the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, on the tip of Africa, and for one of the first times ever, the view took my breath away. Until this point, I would awaken in the midst of a nighttime storm, shaking and terrified about being so far away from home on the tip of a very, very big continent. But as I stood there overlooking, well, the world, I finally understood the phrase,"When your heart is full of love, what room is there for fear?"

It clicked.

I had my friends, some new, some old, all around me and all who sincerely loved me. They desired to see me succeed, and to be the light that Christ called us all to minister. I didn't travel this far away for nothing. When you get to the root of it, I came because I loved God and came to love His people who deserve to know the warmth that I often take for granted. What do I have to fear? It was with this thought that I walked down the hillside, and into the van to drive back to the team house. This thought danced through my head as I cuddled up in my bunk bed and Wayne's football sweatpants in the middle of a howling windstorm, with a hot meal from Nadine (our cook) filling my stomach, and began to enter the next four days.

Werking on the most southeastern point of Africa.

I really like them.

LIGHTHOUSE. I'm currently in my nautical obsession phase.

Side note: our job here was working with Living Hope, an organization started to combat the HIV that plagued the area around Cape Town. We ran the holiday clubs for kids, and also, gave the full time staff a much needed break from being the center of attention. Trust me, after one day of camp, I couldn't comprehend how they could handle months or years of this exhaustion and sometimes heartbreak, but also the whispers of hope that come quietly each day at different times.

Every day followed the same schedule. Wake up in time for breakfast at seven. Leave by 7:30. Devotion at the Capricorn center at 8. Leave for Overcome for kids camp at 8:30. Play and encourage mass chaos until 10:30. Possibly have a craft, or go straight to share a Bible story. Help serve lunch. Leave by 11:30 to meet up with the other half of our team that was at Capricorn for their kids camp. Eat lunch of sandwiches on the best bread known to mankind with fresh fruit at False Bay, watch surfers, and get a coffee and pastry from Knead. Head to Capricorn for teens camp to chill, play net ball, make bracelets, and have a devotion. At around 4:30, we'd all pile in the vans and pass out on the way home.

One thing I might not have publicly blasted about myself on this ranting outlet of mine is that I tend to think children don't like me. I was kind of freaked out about having to entertain 60 kids for 2 hours every day, and also had the fear (there it is again) that they wouldn't like me. After about five minutes, I realized this fear was useless. They hug, they hula hoop, they dance, they kick a ball, they smile, and they do all this while wanting to remain in a 5 foot radius of you. I discovered I'm really great at their favorite game of "put me on your neck!" because, after all, I was the queen of shoulder sits in cheerleading. I was also a human roller coaster, and I would grab their hands and spin them off the ground. Nights at the team house were spent getting neck massages and downing Advil PM's to cope with my job, but I loved it.

Meet my friend fondly known as Smiley. I'm a positive influence I swear. 

Balloons = filling up with the holy spirit. 

Me and Smiley again. 

The spinning game.

"Put me on your shoulders!" Alright.

After our last day of camp.

On the first night, after camp, we were gathered around the living room before we had devotion. I was praying and journaling (aka getting caught up last minute) and I was convicted by what my motivations were. Earlier in the day, I started to think about giving my testimony at teen club, but I wondered if my motivation was to bring the glory to Him, or to myself. I decided then and there that my aims weren't appropriate, and until God presented an opportunity, I would remain hushed publicly. We had our devotion, and right as we were about to break, our leader, Caleb, asked if anyone would like to lead devotion the next day for the entire group. As in our team, and all the Living Hope staff members.

Silence.

No volunteers spoke up. I think to myself, "God, we've talked about this. I don't need to speak so I'm good to sit here quietly."

More silence. Caleb threatens to volunteer one of us himself.

Silence. Then, a creaking feeling entered the back of my mind.
Allison.


I volunteered.
This was a God wink in it's fullest. With God I kept my motivations in check, and allowed him to stand at my side to give me the words I lacked. I don't tell you this to say, "Look how great I am! I volunteered to speak up as a visitor in the youth group and I felt God move through me! I'm literally such a giver! Give, give, give." I'm sharing this story to show God's methods, and His perfect timing and presence.

What did I speak about?
Fear.

I did my best, and it wasn't standard with the usual speakers, but I was elated that my heart was pure. To HIM be the glory. Not me.

The week flew by, and before we knew it, it was our last day. We said goodbye to the kids, and I felt that awful sinking feeling of conviction again. Some of my friends were crying over leaving these kids. And I didn't. Tears wouldn't come. Did I care about each and everyone of them? Yes. Was I said to leave? Yes. But then why wasn't I racked emotionally like my friends? I still don't know the answer.

Our week concluded with a tour of Living Hope, in which I saw the organization not just as a one aspect of showing love to kids. But other components of Living Care, Living Right, Living Way, and Living Grace, all of which were formed to address every single issue that the people of these communities face, such as poverty, job-lessness, disease, sexual immorality, and apathy. I realized that I didn't have to serve purely in kids, but I could serve in a number of ways utilizing my talents that God has graced me with. I love to write, I love to organize, I love to clean kitchens and serve others in basic ways, I love to create anything and everything. The tour showed the areas across the town that they work in, and also reiterated that if we do decide to come back for an extended amount of time, they would work with us to perfectly place us to serve.

While my friends were certain they wanted to come back, I was hesitant. They were talking for sophomore year second semester, or next summer, or even in January, but I had that feeling of guilt come back that I felt leaving the kids when I didn't possess that deep desire. When we first flew into Cape Town, my first thought was, "I better enjoy this trip, because odds of me coming this far away on a long plane ride again are slim to done." By the end of the two weeks, I knew that I will be coming back. I can't tell you when, or what I will be doing, or even if it will be while I'm still young. But just as I allowed God to tell me when to speak, I'll allow Him to tell me when to return. And as long as it is in His plan, I will be back.

Other sights we saw on our last two weeks were Table Mountain, another trip to the Water Front, Penguin spotting, and my favorite, a scenic drive through the beautiful city of Cape Town. My favorite area I saw was Camps Bay. Hills and mountains were dotted with beautiful homes overlooking the water, accompanied by shops and cafes. Sunday, we went church at Capricorn for one last time and had our last meal at this habor-side restaurant in Simon's Town.

I can't even begin to tell you how much I love these people to pieces.

Chapman's Peak minus mist. Oh look we're angels again!

Meet my new bestie, Sarah. You can find her here.

Last girl picture.

Seeing some penguins.

So, to wrap this extraordinary long post up, what have I taken home with me from South Africa? I have a strange obsession with cafes and bakeries, and I want to take up baking bread. Now that I have flown for 43 hours total, over three continents, I'm starting to lose my fear of flying. If the plane was going to crash, I'm pretty sure it would have taking off in a storm in Cape Town. Cut back on coffee and your teeth and caffeine levels will thank you, but chai tea is an adequate subsitute. While my gifts might not be with children, that doesn't mean I'm not strong in shoulder rides, swinging hugs, and other areas of service. I can't go into new places with new people assuming they automatically hate me, because no normal human being thinks like that. God surprises you. It's never too late to reconcile. Being present, fully and wholly present in a place across the world, is the most freeing thing one can do. As I sit in a mountain house in Cashiers, NC, comfy and content, I remember that my friends are sound asleep, preparing for a day of kids camps, serving meals, having to tell someone that they are HIV positive, and craning for the energy to pour into the people they care for so much. I have a massive respect for these people, and I greater appreciate for what's important. Dorm room duvet covers aren't. An added day of rush isn't. Gaining a pound isn't the worst thing that can happen. I'm thankful for the opportunities I have to enjoy, but aware that they are not my own, but God's to use through me.

It's good to be back, bloggers, but I think part of my heart is left in a storage container in a community called Overcome, on the outskirts of Cape Town.

Allie

"I've learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."
- Nelson Mandela

"For I have not given you a spirit of timidity that makes you slave again to fear, but a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline."
- 2 Timothy 1:8