Learning to eat all over again

(This meal incredible- salad with feta cheese and cherries and egg plant with chicken, cheese and ??? some other things that were really tastey!)

Next to my 'accent', the 2nd hardest way to hide that I am a foreigner is when it comes time to eat. I don't know how many times I sat in the dinning hall, and had to turn to ask a friend, 'what is this and how do I eat it?' At my first meal off the plane, Almarie (and every South African I've met after her) excitedly asked if I had ever tried Biltonge. The first time I heard it, in my ears I heard 'bull tongue'- and instantly I felt my stomach sink and I thought, 'I just landed in Africa and already they're offering me strange animal parts to eat!' Ahh! Since then I've learned its actually a prized, higher quality type of jerky. Unfortunately, it just so happens jerky is one of the only foods I can not stomach, so with a big smile I've received and regifted a few gifts of Biltonge since I've been here.

I was freaked out when I was first offered milk for my 'pourage' (cereal) that had been left out over night. Their milk is processed differently here in a way that makes it long lasting- it can go days without being in the fridge- that took some getting used to!

I've been served a lot of interesting combinations here as well- one was a croissant with graded cheese and jam for breakfast. It was surprisingly 'nice'. It's so interesting to me how they never use the word 'good', always 'nice'. And it's definitely 'jam', not 'jelly'. One day at lunch I mistakenly asked someone to pass the 'jelly' and I got a whole table of funny looks. Their 'jelly' is our Jello, so you can only imagine their confusion (& mine!). Also when they eat Jello, they pour hot vanilla custurd on top which is weird.Their 'crisps'/'chips' are so interesting to me- with flavors like Thai Chili, Tomato, and Spring Onion and Cheese. Fast food around here is also a lot more exciting, you can order pizza with sausage in the crust, and your hamburger choices include ones with mushroom sauce, fruit chutney or even a fried egg if you'd like! If you order 'chips' (fries) with your meal they even include a tiny fork to eat them with- and that is a perfect example of the 'cutlery' manners and expectations around here. Wow- eating has become an art form! Through early and kind teasing from Rufus I learned Americans are 'confused' in thinking the side of their fork is actually a knife to cut things with- that's not the case here. A knife and fork are in hand through the whole process of eating until your done, and then you set them down together diagonally on your plate. Heaven forbid you ever pick something up with your hands! One day out to lunch, Almarie stopped and took my picture because she was so proud of how I've learned to use my knife!

I am becoming quite accustomed to my Robust Tea and rusks as well as the scones, 'biscuits' (cookies) and chocolate they have here- they're all so 'divine'! With all these new and exciting things to try I don't think I'll be coming home looking like I've been in Africa!

Allow me to introduce you to my Host Family

Almarie, Rufus, Justus, and Inge. It's absolutly unreal how lucky I am to have been connected to these people and been counted as a member of their family since day 1. Almarie, who is excitedly holding her much desired Starbucks travel mugs from my family, may be one of the single most meaningful reasons why I'm here. I just don't feel like I can rightly express it in words. I love watching how her faith seems so real and simple. On any and every occasion she is sharing and living wisdom, making wise cracks that get me laughing, and taking more than an incredible amount of care of me. She has become a priceless friend and mentor and I already have this inkling she's going to be the hardest thing to leave when I come home.

Rufus, who I promise is the Crocodile Hunter, SA version, is much of the same. He is a man that gets very squeamish if kept indoors too long and is always willing to tenderly share what he's learned about life and God and ministry to anyone who will listen. A few times I've got to help him write his emails, which was funny, because apparently it shortens the process for him a great deal! I appreciate how he too makes such an effort to be apart of my life here. I am spoiled to get calls often asking how I'm doing and if I'm happy.

If you were wondering- it's real- Justus and I are definitely holding some homegrown Transkei Marijuana in the picture!

That's one thing I'm thinking probably shouldn't make it into my

souvenir collection.

Transkei- Take 2

A few weeks ago I got a special treat to tag along with an American team back into the Transkei. They were coming to do a variety of projects, one being going back to the school I visited before to do a course on AIDS awarness. My mom, being the compassionate and go-getter she is, arranged for the team to bring a suitcase from her filled with school supplies

(posters, blocks, chalkboards, atticus, balls, books) for me to take to them. What an awesome time to be the messenger! I really enojed showing the teachers everything and I know it will bless the kids and the school tremendously. It was an experience for me to have to show them what could and couldn't stick to the magnent board- something new to them!

I had such a light hearted and playful time with the kids this trip. My first trip I honestly really struggled to connect to what I was seeing and I became regretably stand off-ish. It was like I was seeing things in a picture- it had no deapth, if that makes sense. There was nothing I could relate to, we couldn't communicate, their culture was strange to me, and I was hesitant to even what body language was acceptable. This time was different and a connection was made through the little girl that is on my lap in the picture below. You know how most of the time when you pick up a little one to just squeeze and love to pieces, they normally lay there limp, unresponsive. When I picked up and hugged this young girl, I felt her little arms and tiny hands and fingers sqeeze me back. That was the first thing I understood in this village all day.

I spent most of my time surrounded (mobbed - in a good way- more like!) by little ones soaking it up. I would start to rub some backs, and all of a sudden someone was at my back giving it a good rub and even a masage! I would attempt to walk around, but I always had at least 2 kids holding on to my hips, so it was quite a slow, but sweet process to get anywhere. I was holding hands and playing tag, I was tickling and having my hair styled by their curious fingers. I got out my MP3 player and I had a line of tiny-big people hoping to get the chance to listen. They would all bob their heads and pretend to know the words as they sang along to Lifehouse and others. It's incredible how powerful a thing touch is, but it's a tragedy how rare and special it is to them.