Life as a Fish

2010

2010-01-02T08:45:00.000-08:00

This year I want to...

Breathe more deeply,

Give more freely,

Laugh more hysterically.

Remember more birthdays...

Hurt more profoundly,

Encourage more assuredly,

Break in more places.

Allow myself to be beautiful...

Care about the small things,

Release more of the big things,

Enjoy the people I love.

Take some amazing photographs...

Work harder,

Swim faster,

Spend more time by the sea.

Live life LOUDER, by falling more in love with You.

Letter from Heaven

2009-06-01T04:53:00.000-07:00

After a short time you will feel my presence with you once again and I will fulfil my promises of grace to you. I will carry you back to the place of freedom and peace. Things may look bleak now, but even if all you see ahead is cloud and darkness, it is sufficient for you to know that I AM GOD and I've got plans for your life. My plans bring fulfilment and richness of life, not disappointment or despair. My plans give hope and a future.

Rejoice! At present you don't feel me with you and where there's unbelief I turn a deaf ear. Then, you will be persistant in your devotions, give up trying to live for me in your own strength, put aside all pride and call upon My name daily, faithfully lifting your hands to Me, until you realise that all along I am listening, that I have heard your heartfelt prayers. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.

Beloved, believe that you will find Me, because I am not hiding from you: it is I who pursue you in unfailing love. I ask only for your heart, complete and pure, offered to me in love-surrender so that I may open My heart to you, that my glory be reflected in the unveiled face of My bride.

I will be found by you. This is my hearts desire. Then I will gather you into my arms and bring you home to the place of security, of deliverence. Now, at last, I can fulfil all the promises I ever made to you and you will know what it is to live in fulness of joy.

For Possum

2009-02-12T03:33:00.000-08:00

Well, I have finally got around to updating my blog from the last 6 or so months... if anyone is still interested! You might want to go right down to "It's Over" and read from there. Don't be fooled by the dates, as they refer to the day I made the post, not the day I wrote the blog.

This is all for Paula, who continually pesters me to update and without whom I probably would have not bothered at all. I am blessed that she is so much a greater part of my life than my blog.

Enjoy!

Moving On

2009-02-12T03:31:00.000-08:00

So its here… time to move on again. I’m feeling a bit mixed. Not quite sure which way it’s going – should be more excited about getting back to Harlesden because it’s always been all about moving there. Should feel better about leaving Pompey behind because there’s never been anything worth staying around for here.

I’ve always prided myself on my honesty – being who I am and everyone knowing that. No masks on this girl!! Sure, it can take me a while to let people in but I’ve never tried to be something I’m not. But then again, I’m realising that who I am is not that straight forward. And as I move from one experience to another, who I am is developing and growing and getting more complicated!! I have had so many different roles in different contexts with different people over the past few years that it’s not really that crazy that I should have a couple different versions of myself. In fact, people have commented on my ability to fit in with all kinds of people, and just a brief poll of my friends shows a considerable variety. I love that!! And am so thankful for it, because each and every one of them adds another amazing dimension to my life.

But I’ve never before felt like I’m living two different lives. I’ve never felt split in this way before… not quite sure if my old friends will get the person I’ve become, or my new friends really understand the full extent of who I am at the core. I like the new confidence I’ve found, the friends I’ve made, the way I’ve lived my life while I’ve been at home… but I’m unsure about how it’s all going to fit when I move back to Harlesden. Because will those people be expecting the Susie from a year ago? How will they deal with the girl she is now? The differences are probably subtle but they are there, even if no one knows exactly what they are. Is there space for them without judgement? How are these friendships going to feel now? How much can I share?

You know sometimes and you just want to curl up in a hole and sleep until the sun comes out again, and things seem a bit easier? Yep, that’s right where I’m at. But I shouldn’t have anything to be worried about… should I?

Broken

2009-02-12T03:27:00.000-08:00

I am a woman. And there is a part of me that’s broken.

It’s a really small part. So small that I can hide it away in the deepest place within me. So small that I can forget that it’s there, and that it’s still broken.

But it’s the smallest things that bear the most potent poison… manifest in a single question, the brokenness resonates upwards through the many layers of complexity that comprise my womanhood to subtly taint every aspect of my being. The question is simply this… am I enough?

The core of my very existence is crippled by this one doubt… As it permeates my life, it fractures into an array of variants. Am I enough to be useful – am I needed? Am I enough to be valuable – am I wanted? Am I enough to be enjoyed – am I desired?

I hate neediness – often to the point of contempt when I observe it in others. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. I have been told that the things that frustrate or annoy you in others usually cause that reaction because they are actually a problem within yourself. And if there is one thing I seek, it is to be useful, to be needed. If I am needed there is less chance of me being rejected. In order to understand my role or purpose, I have to validate my presence within any kind of circle by being a useful, contributing member. While on the surface this is a constructive aim to have, the motivation of avoiding rejection leads me to cultivate independence. It is important for others to need me, but for me to need others (particularly if they DON’T need me as much) is a sign of weakness. There’s too much hurt to risk in not being needed.

In striving to be needed all the time, I have struggled with the concept of being wanted. By that I mean wanted for who I am not what I do… To just be, in a friendship. Not to function in any other way but to be me. To be loved. My God of grace has much patience with me, and has been turning my heart round to the idea that just maybe I am enough to be valued, worthy of His love and interest. I haven’t the faintest idea why that may be, except for an inkling that it’s the great mystery of Love. Allowing this Love into my life has begun to seal up some of the fractures caused by this question. I have begun to heal, to be restored. I can now accept love where I don’t understand it.

Of course, to love is to risk rejection, and often to suffer it. So I can only love to the degree I have allowed this Love to re-build the broken parts within me, to strengthen me against the fear of it all coming crashing down, of rejection – the ultimate answer NO to my question.

Still causing me trouble is the last one – am I enough to be desired? Am I beautiful, am I lovable, am I enough to stir a passion? Some say the time has not come yet… you will not get your answer until it does. Yet I still seek it! Waiting for a husband is not the solution, as my hidden brokenness is crying out with a fervour that demands to sated… ignoring it does no good. There have been those that seem to offer an answer, but so far not one with enough integrity that I can lean into and be supported in the full knowledge of acceptance. Yet still I seek it, at times with almost a single-mindedness.

I know where I should get my answer

“The King is enthralled by your beauty…” Psalm 45 v 11

Now the question is…
Do I believe it?

Cards

2009-02-01T04:51:00.001-08:00

A major part of my job has just become selling credit cards. I know... I'm supposed to be working in a ladies clothing dept. Go figure. I was supposed to be a Christmas temp, just tidying up clothes and watching the fitting room BUT all has now changed.

Firstly they have realised how awesomely amazing I am. To be fair to them, it didn't take long. So they have decided to put my awesome amazingness to good use, and train me up for the tills and the account card. I was quite keen for this, because let's face it, even 4 hours a day tidying clothes gets a bit much. On Mega days I did get to hand out leaflets, but that also is annoying after about 5 seconds.

However, part of me is wondering what I have let myself in for. I now have targets. TARGETS! To open one card per day I work. I don't think we have enough customers for us all to reach that target. More like one a week... In an effort to mobilise the workforce into reaching these lofty aspirations, we are now expected to spend at least half an hour every day "clipping", which basically means we have to walk around the shop with a wadge of application forms on a clipboard and pounce upon our blissfully unaware customers, who happen to be perusing the exciting range of ladieswear we have on offer, and try and convince them that their life will end if they don't open a store card with us.

"Hello madam, how are you this fine day? I was hoping to extol the virtues of our wonderful new reward scheme with you... all you have to do is hand over some very personal information so the bank can run a detailed credit check against you, and soon you could be earning not only more credit-induced debt but also great value reward points that are only valid in our store. And once in a while we will hold an exclusive 20% off day, so you are encouraged to buy loads more things than you really want or need purely because you get a discount on that day. Would one be interested in such an arrangement? Yes? Wonderful, sign your life away here please..."

Ok, so my main problem is that I am morally opposed to pressuring old dears into opening new credit cards during one of the worst economic crisies in history. Sorry, I just think that's wrong. But my managers think that it's because I don't like approaching people on the shop floor. Clearly I don't have an issue with that! So I am having to bite the bullet, put on my fakest smile and chat my way through the LONGEST half hour in the world every day. I have developed a couple of avoidence strategies... being 5/10 minutes late to take on the clipboard is sometimes workable, especially if you are in the middle of a big job and loose track of time; jumping on the till during busy periods is the lesser of 2 evils; helping a customer on a non-account card related issue can kill a lot of time, especially if you have to go down and check for size options in the store; sometimes you are lucky and land one of the sweet old things that wants to talk the hind leg off your donkey - of course you don't want to be rude, do you?!

At the end of the day, I don't need to agree with everything in order to do the job. Especially when I'm just after some short term cash, not looking to build a managerial career. But it makes me wonder where you draw the line on such a question...

Pompey Life

2009-02-01T04:39:00.000-08:00

Whenever I meet a new peson and I'm introducing myself, I always answer the question "Where are you from" with some reference to Portsmouth. I grew up here. I was born in St Mary's hospital, have lived here all my life (except for the couple years in Brunei, right up until uni) and I still refer to it as home, even if that is out of habit more than anything!!

When I was a teenager, I developed a disdain for Portsmouth that grew to the point that I couldn't wait to leave. I seriously could not think of anything worse than becoming trapped into a life centred around this city, which I saw as one of the most depressing places in the world (clearly I had not yet been to Dungeness...). I'll admit there was probably a good portion of teenage melodrama shaping that particular worldview, but nonetheless, I was looking for my first ticket out of here...

Thankfully that really wasn't too much of a problem, as my priviledge and wonderful parents practically entitled me to go to university. And my academic success meant I could go pretty much anywhere. Naturally I didn't even consider Portsmouth Uni, and ended up in Egham, of all places, at Royal Holloway. But that's another story (or maybe even an epic serialisation...?). As I grew older and had more opportunity to travel and visit, even to live, in other places around the world I found my distaste for "home" melting and gradually being replaced with, dare I say it, a fondness?!! Maturity has brought with it an understanding of the value of where you came from in shaping where you are going next.

Imagine my surprisethen, when I realise that after 25 years of believing that I came from Portsmouth, and even more than that, understanding what it means to come from Portsmouth, I actually have had very little to do with the city. I lived over the hill in Waterlooville or Cowplain, as did most of my friends... I went to school in Havant and then Chichester, and I always seemed to work nearer Southampton. In reality, the only time I went down into the city while I was growing up was to go shopping or to the cinema, or going to church with my parents in the dockyard. On such occasions, we would be in and out as quickly as possible!!

The past few months have been somewhat of an education in "Portsmouth". Working in a retail environment in the heart of the city, travelling in and out every day on the bus... it has opened my eyes to what Portsmouth is really like. I have made friends, people that I care about, that have lived less than half an hour away from me my whole life but have this completely different experience. And I am now convinced that the best way to get to know the character of the area you live in is to work on a shop floor!!

The funny thing is, to be brutally honest I haven't been that surprised at what I have seen... it's just the first time I have actually experienced it myself, rather than assuming. BUT what has knocked me for six is the way I feel about it. From hating to indifference to a degree of fondness, my journey is now moving on to a level of compassion and love that I would NEVER have expected. The way I see my city has changed, and the people who live there have become part of my life. For the first time I have become involved, and I care about it in a way that moves me. So now leaving will be that bit harder...

Friendships... Are Better Than Normal Ships.

2009-02-01T04:20:00.000-08:00

Today I got a text right out of the blue from my friend Chelsea. It was more a surprise than your average random "Hey we should meet up!" because Chels is American and had significant problems with her visa last time she came to the UK (stupid immigration people) and I didn't even think she could come back here. Yet here she was... in Southampton of all places and free for a coffee! How incredible...

Seeing her again after over a year got me thinking about friendship. I realised I have quite a high expectation of friendship... sometimes it's quite unrealistic! As I move through life and bat from one place to another, I have collected a variety of friends from different circles. It always seems to be time to leave some behind, or time to get to know someone new. Both of these are incredibly daunting tasks, involving no small amout of risk and vulnerability. Yet I know how essential these relationships are to me while I try to cope with life...

I am a people person. I love to be involved with people, to get to know them, to share with them. And one of my love languages is quality time - so I tend to feel closest to the people I spent the most time with. It's maybe a bit ironic (or unfortunate? or interesting?) then, that my life tends to lead me back and forth between different groups of friends every few months. How do I view the friendships that I don't get to invest time in?

There are obviously those that are a fundamental part of my life - I can't imagine ever not being friends with some people and don't really consider that we would ever loose touch. However, there are many more I would love to spend more time with or keep more up to date with... but life just doesn't stretch that far!! It's these friendships that continually amaze me. Some you think are pretty solid but eventually end up just drifting away into nothing, until you become as good as strangers and there's little hope of reconnecting - those make me sad in a way I don't feel sad about anything else. But it's part of life I guess, everything has it's season. Learning to let go is as important as learning to hold on.

But for every friendship you have to let go... there's one that endures in the face of whatever seperation life's lottery calls in, and continues to bless and enrich your life despite distance or circumstance. These are the ones that yield untold joy in my heart, at the most unexpected times. I can never tell which friendships will stand the test of time in this way, and I think that part of the joy is that surprise when you discover another one :)

Falling Falling

2009-02-01T04:19:00.001-08:00

A few months back I was looking at this website with my friend Tessa. It’s called ASBO Jesus and has loads of cartoons on it, mostly trying to make some amusing but deeply satirical point about how the church relates today. There was one that I initially reacted against, it was entitled “Stepping Out In Faith” or something like that and was a little cartoon stick man falling off the edge of a cliff. That’s not cool, I thought… having faith in God doesn’t mean you fall off a cliff. When you step out in faith He’s always there to catch you. I pointed this out to Tessa, and she suggested that falling off a cliff is exactly what it feels like sometimes. In hindsight, of course we can see how God works out situations in our life but the reality we deal with “in the moment” is not always what we can tangibly attribute to our perception of safety and security.

So now, about 9 months later, I’m sat here thinking about my life and what I want it to mean, and I remember this cartoon. And I understand it. Over the past few years I’ve had some pretty out of control experiences… some up, others down, some were by my design, others not exactly my first choice of valley to walk through. For a while it felt pretty non-stop, like I never really had time to come up for air. All the way through I’ve been learning about trusting in God… what that means in many different ways. Taking risks, in faith, has been a big thing that I’ve seen, faced and grown through. I even preached about it once!! Yet in this moment I sit and feel the most like I’m stepping out over the edge of a cliff. Because I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen…

Spleepy

2009-02-01T04:17:00.000-08:00

So I’m back in England… wow it’s cold!! Thought we were still in summer here people? August? A bit of sunshine too much to ask??

Oh well, the glories of the motherland…

So I’m staying with my parents for the foreseeable future. Bear in mind that my future is only really foreseeable about 2 weeks ahead at a stretch currently. More like 2 days, 2 hours most of the time. I probably could/should make some plans, but that would involve a degree of alertness and the motivation to get off my bum and be a little pro-active. What with still being well and truly in the clutches of jetlag, I don’t think that’s an option yet.

I learned something about myself while I was away (phew – not a waste of time then ;)) and that is that my coping mechanism for stress is sleep. Whenever there is something that’s too complex to handle, I fall into this state of lethargy and physical exhaustion which results in me moping the days away in-between naps and long periods of doing nothing.

Some days I have made it through til bedtime without falling asleep, but on others I manage to sleep for 5 hours during the afternoon. It doesn’t seem to matter how well I sleep, or what time of the day/night it is, I never wake up feeling refreshed and my energy levels expire at the mere thought of doing something productive. I’m too exhausted to make any decisions or sort my life out, which has been put on hold in the most abrupt manner by my return home to a very-much-still-in the-process of being redecorated room, lacking not only curtains and a carpet but also a proper bed.

There are many people I should be catching up with… loads of really valuable and dearly loved friends who are (apparently) dying to see me and hear ALL about my trip. Which is awesome. Except for the completely overwhelming fact that I don’t know what to say. Where do you start explaining what you’ve been through, how do you even begin to communicate what you’ve seen and who you’ve met and how that’s changed you? I don’t know if I can… I don’t know if I even know that yet…

How can I describe the friendships I have left behind, the memories I have made with people I might never see again? The places I have loved and hated, the struggles and the joys that God has pounded my heart with…?

I’m feeling tired. I think I’m going to have a nap…

Home Sweet Home

2009-02-01T04:14:00.000-08:00

Spent about 10 days of 2008 in UK so far… and nearer 4 months in Indonesia!! That’s 1/3 of my year… God certainly has written that country on my heart during this time away, although not sure what that exactly means!!

In this time I have mostly been...

reading Irresistible Revolution (should be canonised) and Isaiah – there’s some amazing stuff in that book!;
eating rice and tuna, and Cha Chas (fake peanut M&Ms – they saved my life out there!);
listening to Robbie Seay Band, Newton Faulks and Shane&Shane (Give thanks to the Lord for He is good…);
watching Greys Anatomy (yup that rights Bodes, right there with ya girrrrl!) and Lost Season 3;
travelling in boats – speed boats, slow boats, fast (6hr boats) and overnight boats. If you ever need any advice about going on a boat journey in Indonesia, I’m your girl (but do yourself a favour and just don’t!!);
living life without email and texting – surprisingly refreshing;
learning to speak Indonesian, still a loooooooong way to go!!
visiting the doctor – ear aches, infected knee, gastritis and stomach cramping – I was there a lot!
realising my actual rubbishness in the face of the awesomeness of God, and how amazing it is that I can know Him despite that, how intensely He loves me still and desires to use me maybe even because of my weakness.
having my heart break over friends that don’t know this and desperately need to!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh that’s pain, right there!!

And now I’m back. England, are you ready??!

Reflections on an Island Paradise

2009-02-01T04:13:00.001-08:00

I managed to get through 8 weeks on Hoga without writing one blog, so here is a little summary of my time J

Daily schedule would involve 2 or possibly 3 dives… I was normally on science dives, which basically meant supervising the students underwater, making sure everyone who was meant to be on the boat got on, and the same number of people got out of the water that went in… ensuring the boat left on time (easier said than done with certain science staff!), filling out all the paperwork and seeing that everyone followed OpWall rules. So Susie the Divemaster had to get a bit no nonsense!! Another fun part of the job… radio duty! Not every day but on a rota, we would have to sit by the radio in case of an emergency. Always a lot more fun when Ali came and played guitar…

I lived in the same little pink hut that I shared with Chrissie 3 years ago! Except I had it to myself this time – which was BLISS after sharing with 5 of us on Nias (sorry girls, I love you but… personal space!). And my own hammock J and my own bathroom!!! Overlooking the boat bay, and caught some gorgeous sunsets.

The welcome I received from my Indonesian friends was amazing. So humbling… I was hoping they would remember me but didn’t expect such excitement! I have had wonderful opportunities to deepen existing friendships and start new ones… spending time with the kitchen ladies especially, as previously most of my friends were guys. The generosity of the Indonesians is incredible… both in the way I never needed for anything, however small, and the way they opened up their hearts and lives to me. I felt so much more comfortable hanging out with the local staff than I ever did with the westerners…

Anna B was a saving grace… as was Bridget! I miss those girls!! It was interesting to observe the interaction between the Westerners and the Indonesians. It had clearly changed since the last time I was on Hoga. 3 years ago there were a couple of western staff who made an effort with the locals but generally the two groups were quite segregated. This year it was almost a popularity contest with some people… who is the most “in” with the local staff?!! I didn’t really like that attitude, it felt really fake and it frustrated me. However, I feel that my friendship was considered genuine. I spent a lot of time with Anna, which was very cool and I feel I have found a little sister there – someone who maintained my sanity on numerous occasions!

Right in the middle I had a period out of the water – very frustrating when you are living on an island totally focused on diving!! I came off a motorbike with a friend on our way to a BBQ on our day off – got a friction burn across my whole knee. Stubbornly continued to dive on it, and it got infected – gross!! Took a while to heal up – about 10 days, which is a long, long time on Hoga. While that was going on I also suffered from another bout of gastritis, which meant I was up for about 3 nights with stomach cramps, puking up bile. Wonderful fun. Thankfully there was a clinic and doctors on site… I had the joys of 2 injections in the bum which left me with a lovely bruise. The funniest thing was the contrast in western and Indonesian treatments. I will never forget Dr Tri’s insistence on my prescribed diet… “Rice, Susie! Have you eaten rice? Why not eating rice Susie?!” Didn’t you know – rice is the answer to all medical ills!!

Leaving Hoga was the most traumatic experience. Mostly because OpWall offered to extend my contract a further 2 weeks til the end of the season. I really didn’t feel ready to leave and so jumped at the chance… in the end though, I couldn’t change my flights because it was such short notice. I left the island planning to do the first leg of the journey in order to buy extra time for the change to be made but it didn’t happen. Excruciating, because I hadn’t said goodbye properly in my heart, and so I felt I had been wrenched out from the situation with no closure. Hard, hard, hard.

Annoyingly I lost my camera on the last day... so I have no pictures for you!!

Hoga's Calling

2009-02-01T04:12:00.002-08:00

I'm nervous... but in that really excited way!

Back in Bali, about to start the loooong journey back to Hoga. Don't get me started on the amount of boats and planes I will see in the next 48 hours... but it'll be worth it. I've waited 3 years to be back here!!

It's just dawning on me that I'm actually going to see these guys again... Arif, Ade, Azrul - and his baby girl!! Not to mention Pips and John... Last time I left I didn't even know if I would get the chance to come back, so this is really special. The edge of panic creeps in... what if they don't care that I'm back? Oh, don't be so silly. Go to bed, you've got a long day tomorrow.

It's over...

2009-02-01T04:12:00.001-08:00

Wow – it’s time. DTS is over (what?!) and my plane leaves tonight. How do you say goodbye like this? I’m at the end of myself. I don’t want to leave these people, I feel like I’m just getting to know some of them… guys the last few moths have been AMAZING. Thanks for everything you have put into them, because you have all touched my life. This time will not only impact the rest of our lives, but will reach out into eternity, and I am deeply grateful for each and everyone of you. I LOVE YOU!!!

Say Hello goodbye

2008-05-23T01:30:00.003-07:00

Our last night on Nias was pretty exciting. We headed into Teluk Dalam to Herman’s house to have dinner with his family (lobster – he owns some lobster fishing boats, yum!!). His wife Tety was about 2 weeks off her due date, and despite plenty of pleading on our part, we had resigned ourselves to the fact that baby would be staying put until after we left. When we got to their house though, Tety was in a lot of discomfort and was pacing around and couldn’t sit still. We had to go and run a Cell Leader’s meeting, but at the end of the evening we had some frantic phone call from Herman because he needed the car we were using to take Tety to hospital.

We were still a little unsure as to what was exactly going on, as no-one ever actually said that Tety had gone into labour, and also everyone was fussing around with really worried looks on their faces, completely opposite to the reaction you would expect if a baby was on the way!! Anyway, we eventually got a ride home and went to bed full of anticipation as to what the morning would bring.

I woke up that morning about half an hour before I had intended to get up, with that particular feeling of sicky butterflies that I always get when I have to say goodbye to someone or leave somewhere. We still had a bit of packing to do and a car arrived to take our bags to the airport, but not before a wonderful phone call from Herman telling us that Tety has had her baby and it’s a little boy!! Woooooooooo!! Extra special J So we got to meet baby Jessa (named after Jeremy, who missed the birth by going to his friends wedding in Jakarta) on our way to the airport. It was so amazing to actually see the baby but it also made it so much harder to actually get back in the car and drive away. Leaving Nias was very emotional that morning!!

Presents

2008-05-23T01:30:00.001-07:00

Even though Teluk Dalam is not really the poorest area of Nias, our friends don’t have much materially but they still managed to give us endless gifts, usually random bits of jewellery and such. Two presents, however, really stick in my mind…

On our last evening at cell group they gave the three of us matching shirts, the same pattern in different colours. Mine was bright pink with yellow trim and 3 huge yellow flowers on the front with big plastic bling centres. It has to be seen to be believed. Jade’s was white with black trim, possibly the easiest on the eye, and Reba’s was all Christmassy in red and green trim. Not only did we have to look really excited by these, we had to put them on and have about a million pictures taken with various members of cell group. Plus they insisted that we leave a copy of those photos with them so they could always remember them…!! I haven’t worn that shade of fushia pink EVER in my life, despite futile attempts by Tessa at uni. Trust the Indonesians, hey?!

We were in the village on our way to pray for our man with the paralysed legs, and my friend Tipan gave me the most beautiful Cowrie shell I have seen in a long time… it was black freckled and really shiny. I totally wasn’t expecting anything, let alone something so lovely, and was quite taken aback at first. Then I turned it over only to discover that there was still an animal inside!! Ummm, Tip…!!

Confusion ensued as I tried desperately to suss out what Tipan really expected me to do with a live slug in a shell – suggestions from the Indonesians were to eat it (I don’t think so!), to leave it until it smelled (I think that meant to wait until it died), to take it away with me in my pocket, or in a bottle of water… they didn’t really understand the concept of not taking live animals out of the country. All the time I was trying to explain that these options were completely impractical, I was acutely aware that Tipan had given me a gift to remember him and was so unsure as to how any rejection of the shell would cause offence to him. In the end I agreed to clean the shell once the creature had died (despite actually wanting to leave it in the nearest rock pool) but when I looked for it in the hole I buried it in (so as not to stink out our bedroom) it had mysteriously disappeared.

Jungle Family

2008-05-23T01:29:00.001-07:00

I feel it’s only right to include a note about our jungle family. They are the family who owned the losmen we stayed in, cooked our food and were generally awesome. Moris and his wife Matiana have 3 ADORABLE children Endi (boy aged 7) Seralin (girl aged 4) and Alfek (boy aged 2). Moris spoke really good English from years of business with the boulehs, and used to come up and hang out with us when we were chilling. He was pretty funny too… it must be said!

It took a while for the rest of the family to warm up to us – I think we were always objects of curiosity for the children but it wasn’t until the end of the trip that they really seemed comfortable with us. Alfek was the cutest thing (cuter than Legato? Hmm… maybe!) and used to run after our car every time we left shouting “Dada dada” (means bye bye) with his plump little legs and toddler excitement. One time he pooped his pants right in front of us. It was a pretty surreal moment, but hilarious as well – a weird look came over his face and all of a sudden there was a little pile of poop by his feet. And he just stood there, obviously not so sure about what to do. Awwwwwww!!

Saying goodbye to our jungle family (Moris used to call his kitchen a jungle kitchen in Nias jungle, hence the nickname) was possibly one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while. It’s funny how much of a relationship you can really build without even speaking the same language. I really miss them!!

Dwi

2008-05-23T01:28:00.002-07:00

Dwi was a 4 year old girl who had malaria. When we first met her, she had already been really sick for about 4 days. The family didn’t have any money to take her to hospital, so she had been running a fever for that time with no medicine. She was wrapped up in blankets, just lying still and gazing off into space, not responsive at all. Pretty much the only thing that showed she was still with us was her awful teeth grinding!! I seriously thought she was going to die right in front of us…

We took her to hospital and organised a prayer vigil through that night with the young people from the church. It was a pretty confusing time for all of us on a personal level, wrestling with a God of compassion and mercy with a healing nature yet seeing this sick little girl not getting any better. Once she was in hospital and they diagnosed malaria and put her on meds, and then she did start getting better – but this meant that her mum took her home and interrupted the course of medication, so she quickly went downhill again. We visited her again in hospital and it was harder because we knew that mum had taken her to see a witchdoctor that afternoon. Apparently according to this guy there was a demon on Dwi’s back that had made her worse, so her mum was in a right state by now! It was so frustrating. I can’t really explain it. Jade and I both felt God asking us to stay the night in the hospital, so we set up camp bedside and prayed through the night. It was still pretty confusing, extremely heart wrenching and completely exhausting but God taught us a lot about not having the answers and still believing in his promises.

It wasn’t resolved while we were on Nias. The next morning the mum still wanted to take her home and even though we paid for a few more nights in hospital, it really didn’t look like she was going to get any better, but all we could do in that situation was pray.

Painting

2008-05-23T01:28:00.001-07:00

So for 2 days we set about cleaning up and repainting the concrete banisters surrounding the steeple of the church (which bizarrely was set next to the church and not on top of it). It was a fun time really, although hard work and also lots of sacrificing and submitting to the Indonesian way of doing things! From the colour (blue and yellow) to the neatness (paint drips and smudges everywhere) I was continually reminding myself that it’s their church, not mine, and I have to give up my idea of how it should be done and what it should look like… it was an interesting challenge for someone who is a bit of a control freak and perfectionist!!

It was a really fun time to build relationships though, and I seriously don’t think I laugh as much with anyone than with Indonesians…

Medan

2008-05-23T01:27:00.000-07:00

Halfway through the outreach we had an opportunity to travel to Medan, the capital of Sumatra, to serve at a Pastor’s conference that was being held there. I thought it was a pretty sweet idea to begin with, but when it was time to go we had just begun to get to know everyone properly and it seemed like really bad timing to leave Nias then.

The journey was pretty long, lots of driving and an overnight ferry. The roads in Indonesia have no law!! There were a few times I thought we were going to see our Father face to face!! But we survived and got to Medan on schedule. We stopped at Lake Toba on the way up, which is a huge lake in the crater of an extinct volcano… awesomely amazing. We stayed on an island in the middle of the lake and it blew my mind trying to imagine what that place has been through from the beginning of creation to now. It was so huge, and thinking about it full of larva or erupting was insane!!

I didn’t like Medan that much. It was big and dirty after the calm of Nias. We stayed for about 10 days, as after the conference ended 5 of us had to fly out and back to Kuala Lumpur for a visa run as we were on 30 day visas. We slept on the floor of a church on squeaky foam mattresses with one stupid fan (with a timer that switched it off after 3 hours, not what you want in the middle of the night!!) and far too many cockroaches keen to share our beds. It was a bit frustrating because we thought we were going to serve the conference but in reality there wasn’t really anything for us to do except sweep the floor each evening (and truth be told we probably didn’t do this very well!). We sat in on the conference every day and got a lot of sweet teaching on leadership, and we went to the plaza every night and had Starbucks so we could use the internet. I found myself singing back up vocals in worship one morning, in Indonesian. How did that happen…?!

We did quite a bit of travelling that week. As well as getting there and back, Bree, Becaa, Jade, Paul and myself had to make a random trip to KL to get new visas. It was quite annoying but KL airport is one of the best airports in the world, with free wifi and really comfy seats, so I figured that it would be fine – a chance to catch up on major emails and skype my parents at a normal hour, plus a fairly good chance I could find a comfy place for a nap. It turned out though, that we were flying Air Asia, into the Low Cost Carrier Terminal, rather than the international all-singing all-dancing one we were expecting. On arrival we found only MacDonalds and a REALLY expensive coffee shop (which sold me the most disgusting cup of peppermint tea I have ever tasted) open, no seats to sit down on let alone stretch out on and most annoying of all was that the wifi didn’t work on my computer (it seemed to work on other people’s, but not on mine. Typical). I was not a happy camper!

The journey back was interesting… we first endured an overnight road trip all the way down Sumatra to the port, before getting the “fast ferry” across to Nias. Of course as it’s Indonesia, nothing is really “fast”, and this trip certainly wasn’t speeded up by the guy on the boat who insisted on taking our passports away to photocopy them. After a lengthy argument over whether we need passports for a domestic ferry trip (Kodan didn’t even have his, as he never left the country!!) I refused to let him take any of them away from us, and his superior sorted it out. What a faff!

Praying For The Sick

2008-05-20T01:12:00.000-07:00

Part of our time there was spent going into the more traditional villages surrounding Teluk Dalam and praying for sick people. Sometimes we went and it felt a bit weird, like they were more interested in meeting some white people (they call us boulehs (bu-lay) which translated is a reference to our long arm hair, apparently!!) than actually seeing God move in any major way. Sometimes they weren’t interested in God at all, and wanted us to answer questions or sing for us (yep, singing is big out here!).

There was one family in particular, who we visited on the first week. The father had been paralysed for three years – we couldn’t ever work out what exactly caused it but he had lost the use of his legs and with that any hope of supporting his family. They had been to visit the witchdoctor (sadly for a “Christian” island, they still put an amazing amount of faith in the traditional tribal medicines) and the treatment he had administered had burnt a huge scar on this mans right leg, that started in the shape of an S. We prayed for him and God spoke to a couple of us about persistence and we decided to visit him every week to pray for his healing. At the beginning we were all hopeful we would see him walk, and even though that didn’t happen, each time we visited we saw small steps of improvement which were so exciting. First he started getting feelings and pain back into his legs, then they were worried that someone was cursing them, so we prayed for protection over the family and later that week he saw an angel in his house!! About half way through he managed to sit up on his own for the first time and by the time we left he could wiggle toes on his right foot!!!

I felt a peace that this was going to be a gradual healing which we probably wouldn’t witness the end of. I think God wanted it that way so He would get the glory in that village, not us – which is completely absolutely fine with me!! The first time we prayed God told me that the sins had been forgiven and the healing was done, so I have ever confidence that his health will continue to get better and better until he can walk again and support his family.

The most amazing thing was seeing how encouraged and supported the family felt by our commitment to them, and feeling how much closer to God they were by the end of our trip. It’s funny how we have our ideas and agendas about what we want to see happen, and how often God has completely different plans!!

Favourite Indonesian Words Beginning With M

2008-05-20T01:11:00.002-07:00

In no particular order:

Mimpi (dream)
Mungkin (maybe)
Monyet (monkey)
Makasih (thanks)

Snorkelling

2008-05-20T01:11:00.001-07:00

I was a bit disappointed when I saw the reef. Having had a certain idea in my head about Indonesian coral reefs and what they should look like (from Hoga, not that that helps explain anything if you haven’t been there…) Sorake beach was a bit of a shock!! Since the earthquake, the whole island had lifted up and most of the reef was now dead and sitting above the water line (except at really really high tide) Because of the waves pounding against the reef wall it was pretty hard to swim close to where we were staying BUT further down the beach there was a crack in the coral that created a cleft between the rocks where the water was clam and clear, so we went there a couple of times. It wasn’t really big enough for a good swim but nice to float around in, and sometimes just getting wet was enough to make you feel better!! Not that many fish due to the waves and the deadness of the coral but I guess I have 7 weeks on Hoga to enjoy that later on J

Cell Groups

2008-05-20T01:10:00.002-07:00

On the other hand, cell was sweet! Jade and I were lucky, as a lot of the people in our cell were the guys that hung out with us anyway so we could really build up good relationships. Tipan could translate as well, so we were always really involved in what was going on, and every week they asked us to share from the Bible (usually with less than about 5 minutes notice). Kardin, Sayangi, Dara, Meli, Berkat, Jeni, Fanolo, Yasman, all became a really special part of our time in Nias. More than that though, God really put a burden on me for the cell groups as a ministry… it was so cool to see how He brought through my experience in cell at uni and while working for St Johns to benefit the work on Nias. I had been feeling for a couple of weeks that I would like to do some kind of training/envisioning for the Cell Leaders, as they had only been running for about 6 months so everyone was quite new to the idea, and I was getting really excited at the potential for growth there. I spoke to Jeremy, my leader, about this and that night we were at a prayer meeting with the cell leaders and Herman (our contact – the youth leader we were working with) asked Jeremy if the team could do any leadership training for the cell leaders… so God spoke pretty clearly in that moment and I was given the chance later on to run through some training based on the Fusion cell values we had used at university.

Church

2008-05-20T01:10:00.001-07:00

Indonesian church was an interesting adventure. Every week we attended cell groups, youth group, prayer and worship meetings and church. Church started at 7.00 on Sunday morning, and was the only thing that wasn’t translated for us. It was a special youth service that was attended by about 500 young people and usually went for about an hour and a half. And I had absolutely no clue what was going on for 97% of the time.

It reminded me quite a lot of Brazil… lots of energy and they love singing in worship! Randomly they took a collection twice every service – I never worked out why. The sermon was always given by a pastor from the church who was generally of the sombre yet shouty variety. Sometimes we were asked to contribute but not always with a lot/any notice. I usually looked forward to the end because it was always hot, and I was always hungry (we didn’t have breakfast until after church!!).

Legato

2008-05-20T01:09:00.002-07:00

Legato was our monkey. She wasn’t actually ours, but belonged to a local restaurant owner who let us babysit her for the 7 weeks we were there. She lived on our balcony and there was a rumour that she was bipolar…

Most of the time she was cute as a button. Still a baby and SO affectionate, her name in Nias language meant “leech” – not quite so cute but she did attach herself to you with incredible force for such a wee thing. She responded well when you picked at her fur, going into an almost trance like state which usually ended up in sleepy time for a while. And that was the CUTEST thing (Jade: ”So cute I could punch her in the face” – these Americans are violent!). Until she woke up and peed… I was a particular favourite for toilet time it seemed, but I think it was because only I really held her long enough to go to sleep and thus wake up on!! I caught on to that particular habit quite quickly.

Gradually she got more confident and bit by bit better at climbing around on stuff. After some adventures in the roof chewing through the electrical wiring we restrained her on the lead a bit so she would stay safe. I found it kinda hard having a wild animal tied up and restricted from doing what it would naturally do anyway but it was the sad truth that it was for her protection. Occasionally (when she had been good!) we would take her for a walk on the beach, which was always fun! She got demanding though, and would freak out every meal time because she wasn’t getting any attention. This really high pitched screaming/hissing noise would start and she seriously looked like a toddler having a temper tantrum. She would jolt like she was having an electric shock. The funniest times would be when she threw herself on her back, sprawled out on the ledge and then fall off landing on her head on the floor!!

Nias

2008-05-20T01:09:00.001-07:00

Soooooooo… We arrived!! All good things come to those who wait, and Nias would certainly be classed as one of the beautiful places in the world’s great masterpiece. Sorake is a famous surfing beach, with one wave in particular that is world class (apparently!). We are staying right on the beach, in a losmen consisting of 2 rooms with a shared balcony overlooking the reef. There is a large wave right opposite us but since the earthquake in 2005 the island has lifted up and the coral is now exposed above the water – it means this wave breaks too shallow to surf safely, although it’s still pretty cool to sit and watch! Everyone now surfs the next one down the reef, which we could also watch from our balcony.

We will be working with the Lutheran church in a town called Teluk Dalam (the BKPN) where there are a LOT of young people but sadly due to culture they are expected to conform to and respect the traditions of their elders. Obviously this is not resulting in a particularly relevant church environment for the youth to grow closer to Jesus. The problem on Nias is that everyone claims Christianity but hardly anyone knows Jesus (it sounds quite similar to England at some times). Kids grow up going to church but not having a relationship with God and currently the church doesn’t seem too interested in discipling the younger generations into a genuine and transforming walk with Christ. In this context, a guy called Herman who is clearly filled with the Holy Spirit and burning with God’s passion for the young people of Nias has started a youth group, cell groups and working as closely as he can (is allowed to) with the church elders to introduce the kids to Jesus in a meaningful way they can actually engage with and find ways they can express that in worship and fellowship. We are basically going to be supporting this work as much as we can, mainly by building relationships and investing in the kids while we are there, and by sharing what God has done in our lives.

We took the first couple of days to settle in and meet everyone. It’s quite intimidating as in Indonesian culture the girls and boys don’t hang out together in the same way we do, and girls also tend to be a lot more reserved and shy. I got really frustrated early on because it felt like we shouldn’t hang out with the boys because it wasn’t “culturally sensitive” but the girls were never around, so the girls on the team ended up just sitting around talking amongst ourselves. Later on though I could see how it was more just a case of getting to know us, and I made some really good friends with both guys and girls (although it would be fair to say I got to know the guys better because they would come and spend time at the losmen with us). By the time we left I know they had stolen a part of my heart, and I know that I genuinely would miss them. It was such a privilege to even meet them in the first place, and they welcomed us in as part of things so completely and wholeheartedly.

I didn’t think a chronological account of my time there would be so interesting, and as I’m going to be posting all this at once anyway (due to lack of internet access on Nias) I have picked out some highlights in the following blog entries.

Enjoy!!

The Road Goes Ever On And On...

2008-05-20T01:08:00.000-07:00

Our flight was due out on Friday 21st March from Brisbane, travelling to Medan in Sumatra, Western Indonesia, via Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. We were due to arrive in Nias from Medan on Sunday. However on arrival at Brisbane airport we soon discovered that due to technical difficulties our flight had been cancelled and we would have to spend the night in a hotel in Brisbane, catching the next flight to KL in the morning. This turned out to be a MASSIVE blessing as one of our team had managed to leave her passport and ticket on the lounge floor at our house on the Sunshine Coast (approx and hour away!!). My goodness me, we would have been stuck if the plane had left on schedule!! As it turned out we had a fantastic treat, sleeping in a 5 star hotel for the night with our own rooms and showers and didn’t have to pay a penny (or cent, I guess – we’re in Australia after all…) Check-in the following morning was a bit hectic just because we had a couple of sticky moments with all the different visas the team were on. It was sorted out ok though, and because it took so long to sort out it meant our huge amounts of excess luggage were waived through without being charged, which was a huge blessing. With the missing passport safely delivered courtesy of the Africa team (who were leaving that morning too) we were finally on our way to Nias!!

Little did we know… As we boarded the plane we noticed that our flights had been routed through Penang inbetween KL and Medan. That was quite annoying as it’s effectively going up just to come back down again, and an extra flight to cope with. But it wasn’t until we got off the plane at KL and started looking for the gate we would board to Penang that we realised that the date of that flight was the next DAY!! Brisbane had omitted to go through the new flight schedule so hadn’t told us we also had a night over in KL. According to the desk there, the transit hotel was full and so we had to get a taxi an hour into the city and stay again in a 5 star hotel for the night. Oh the trails of outreach!! Thankfully this was all courtesy of the airline as well, so we just enjoyed our luck and I got to have roti canai for breakfast J

I think we were all getting slightly weary of airports as we got on some tiny planes first to Penang and then Medan. Arriving at Medan airport was once of the most overwhelming experiences as you are literally enveloped by baggage porters and taxi drivers once you get through security. Thank you Jesus that we had people meeting us who took care of every little detail, as all the travelling and faffage was definitely getting to us!! Jenni and Mulia were our angels!! Because of the re-route through Penang we had missed the afternoon flight to Nias, so we found a hotel (a little on the expensive side but it’s only one night, right?) and then found we couldn’t buy tickets to Nias until Tuesday (it’s Sunday at this point, so no, actually it’s going to be 2 nights) and had to move to a cheaper one on Monday. After spending a couple of days in Medan we arrived early Tues morning to catch the plane to Nias… only to discover that Becaa and I had to wait for the second flight as there wasn’t enough space on the first one. By this point even little things that weren’t a big deal were feeling really stressful…! But eventually we got on the little 30 seater with plastic flowers adorning the stinky toilet (as if they would make it smell better or something?!) and a worrying white mist pouring down from the ceiling the whole way (Becaa: “I thought they were trying to gas us!”) and about an hour later arrived at Nias airport in Gunung Sitoli. This was when we learnt it was a 4 hour drive to Sorake Beach on the south of the island, where we would be staying…!! Hahaha!!!

Here We Go...

2008-05-20T01:06:00.001-07:00

Introducing the team…

Jeremy and Reba (fearless leaders/mum & dad)
Jade Anna Banana Lemonhead
Bree (Cali surfer girl)
Becaa Boo (my Canadian roommate)
Kodan (Sunny Coast surfer boy)
Paul aka Foreman (think That 70s Show)

And myself :)

Last Minute Annie

2008-05-20T01:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I got most of my outreach fees about 4 hours before we left for the airport. My friend was so matter of fact about it… “oh, well I have $1300 you can have, if it helps!” It was sweet because the difference I can pay nearer the end of outreach once my tax rebate has cleared… what a lesson in how God works!!

Twin Day

2008-03-19T15:29:00.001-07:00

Today is Twin Day. We had to dress up as twins with someone else. I went with Bree, dressed up mostly to look like her. We looked good. I got compliments all day because I straightened my hair and it looks so different!!

We have an unfortunate guest in our house. A mouse is living in the wall in our kitchen. Gross!! The most upsetting is that Becaa and I woke up this morning at 4 to find it running around in our bedroom, euuuuuuggghhhhhhhhhhhh!! One of the most frustrating things about living in a community house is trying to keep it clean, as there are so many people always messing it up. But our house is particularly bad at keeping the kitchen clean and leaving old plates and food around, so it’s little wonder we got a mouse (I actually think it’s a rat, as it was big and black, but fear for Becaa’s sanity should I suggest this!!)

I don’t want to go to sleep tonight. Ratty in my bedroom is not a good alarm clock.

Team Indo

2008-03-19T15:28:00.000-07:00

Outreach is one week and counting!! Crazy. I’m excited, especially after such an awesome prayer week, but also not really sure what we are going to be getting up to. I know we are going to be staying for 7 weeks on Nias, an island off the west coast of Sumatra. We then have a week at the end on Bali before heading back to Australia at the end of May.

So the final preparations are upon us… as are the final payment deadlines. I found out that I am now the only member of the team that hasn’t got the $2000 ground fees. This leaves two options – if I can find $350 for my insurance and the team agree, I can still come and the rest of the team carry me, which will mean a stretched budget and probably missing out on some travelling around towards the end of the trip. Otherwise I can’t go. Mortified by the situation (especially as I wasn’t originally put on the team anyway) I find some comfort in the immediate response that leaving me behind is not an option. But that leaves me in a very uncomfortable position for independent grown up Susie to deal with, firstly not feeling like I can contribute towards the trip but also feeling like I am causing my team to miss out. It’s a very humbling place to be in, and I can see how God is working through it to break my pride and self-sufficiency. I am also having to rely wholly on His spoken word to me that He wants me to go to Indonesia for this trip, as the circumstances are not exactly supporting this view at the moment!!

Feelings of guilt, inadequacy, almost cheating are creeping in… I confess with my mouth that God is sovereign over all situations, that He wouldn’t call me somewhere and not provide for me, that he is more than capable and WANTS to bless me so that that I have more than just enough to get by, in order that I might be generous and bless others. But in my heart the doubts start to whisper – what, has He forgotten you? Maybe you got it wrong… obviously you can’t hear Him as well as you thought you could… maybe He doesn’t even bother to speak to you at all!! The voice of the accuser echoes around my head, speaking words of deceit and distraction in to the situation that will inevitably lead to death – death of a dream, the quenching of the flame of intimacy that is growing in my soul, the crumbling of confidence in my communication with and trust placed in my Father in heaven. And it’s all lies. I know that, so why do I listen??

... and Diamond Dust

2008-03-19T15:26:00.000-07:00

Over the week we spent time looking at the gifts of the Spirit, and praying into and for those that we either thought we had or those we desired to have! Across the 30 odd students on the course there is a wide range of experience with this kind of thing. It was an amazing privilege to pray for my roommate and watch her receive the gift of tongues!! And an even bigger surprise to find that I was given an interpretation of a tongue spoken corporately one night, when I have never desired that gift at all. Random, but ok!! Whatever God has for me, bring it on! I don’t want to miss out ;)

I can be a bit sceptical about the more bizarre manifestations of the Holy Spirit, probably because I don’t have much experience of them and tend to be more suspicious of the unknown and untested. But since when is God completely known and testable?! So when they first start talking about diamond dust, my initial reaction is, hmmmm… not sure. But as soon as people started praying for those who didn’t have it to receive it, I figured why not? If it’s not of God then it won’t be a big deal, but if it IS then I don’t want to miss out! A post-prayer inspection of my palms did indeed reveal specks of glitter on my skin where there had been none previously. Apparently it’s a sign of anointing, a gift from God to His church, a manifestation of the presence of the Holy Spirit… I’m not sure what it is but I do believe it is from God and it’s kinda cool – pretty sparkly fingers!! I find a great encouragement from it, especially when I notice it during the day when I might be more distracted with other things going on. I’m not sure we are supposed to have all the answers, and I think that retaining and celebrating some of the mystery that surrounds God is an important thing. For me, at this moment, the diamond dust shows me how I can’t figure God out, how creative He is, and how generous – I only asked once, and I got it. So it helps me with all those other things I have to ask many times for, it helps me remember that God hasn’t forgotten.

Pentecost...

2008-03-19T01:42:00.000-07:00

So, as always, God was faithful to His promise. We waited, and the Holy Spirit did indeed come with power. I would consider myself to be of quite a charismatic persuasion, albeit from the Anglican church, but I don't think I have ever had a week with the Holy Spirit quite like this one...

The momentum was building from the beginning. A strong theme of the school has been Freedom, and this was certainly continued through Prayer Week. On Tuesday night we were challenged to face up to our fear of Man... first to admit it and then renounce it. Later on in the week we talked about obedience (i.e. doing everything that God asks you to do, and doing it when He asks you to!) and this was then tested by a challenging time of worship where God asked some of us to do some crazy things to honour Him during that time, and to break this fear of Man. Mine wasn’t such a weirdo request, but it was so hard for me.

As soon as we started, I felt God wanted me to play the djembe, an African drum, with the worship team… now I have really sucky rhythm when it comes to hitting things, and I really didn’t want to have to join in the worship team and start playing an instrument I had never touched before. So I didn’t. I just stood there trying to make excuses for myself. I actually couldn’t shrug it off, I was so sure that it was what God had asked of me in that moment. And I felt AWFUL. So hideous that I couldn’t even step out and do this one little thing. Everyone else was experiencing this incredible freedom in worship and dancing around and calling out crazy things but I was stood in the corner feeling miserable, on the verge of tears because I knew that I was being disobedient. However hard I tried, I couldn’t enter into that spirit of worshipTo make things worse, after a while someone else started playing the drum.

I saw so clearly in that moment that God will raise up someone else to fulfil His purposes if you are not obedient to His call. It’s His plan after all, and it’s a privilege that He chooses to use us not a right… if we choose to not be involved then He will still accomplish His plan, using others. The only one who misses out on blessing because of your disobedience is you!

This realisation broke me. For a moment I thought it was ridiculous to get so upset about a stupid drum, but I knew that if I couldn’t get up and do what was actually a very small thing in amongst a room of people who know me and love me, then bigger challenges that would come later would be impossible. And I didn’t want to miss out!! I didn’t want to be holding back from God, I wanted a piece of everything that He had for me in that moment. So weeping tears of regret and frustration I asked Him what I could do to make this right. Would I be able to try again? Or had I really blown it?

Almost immediately I heard it, that still, small voice in the depth of my soul… yes, of course you can try again My child, but this time you have to confess to the room first… so I went up to the microphone as soon as I could and shared. I felt so stupid, but also really humbled and encouraged. I knew that it was a first step in actually breaking the hold that other people’s opinions of me has over my life. And of course the whole room watched me as I hit that stupid drum for the first time, knowing that I was scared but watching me as I found a new freedom, and celebrating with me in the graciousness of God.

Hallelujah, grace like rain
Is falling down on me again
Hallelujah, all my stains
Are washed away, washed away

Mary Of Bethany

2008-03-19T00:57:00.000-07:00

Every time I have done a 24-7 prayer week, it’s been a special time. There is something about pressing in to spend time with God that blesses your life… especially when you are part of a group or community that is setting aside time to do this together. I would encourage anyone who has never experienced it to give it a go!

Our prayer week consisted of corporate prayer and worship times from 8 – 12 each morning (when we would normally have lectures) and then 10-12/1ish every night. In between these times we were divided into groups of 4 to take 2 hour shifts in the prayer room through the day and night. My shift was from 4-6 am every day, which meant I had practically no sleep the whole week!! It was amazing how much strength you got from prayer though - at the start of the week I was falling asleep in my sessions but by the end I was staying up all night to watch the sunrise!!

My first couple of prayer slots were fairly low-key. I was expectant but felt God really impress on me just to wait on Him and spend time with Him, rather than coming into this with a whole heap of preconceptions or even worse a shopping list. Of course there were things on my heart that I was concerned about and needed to present to Him during prayer, but I felt that this week was going to be about more than just what I wanted, and that it was going to be important to lay aside all of that and spend time seeking His face. The next day we had a talk on being like Mary of Bethany... you know the old story about the sisters Jesus visits, Mary and Martha. Martha is busy in the kitchen while Mary sits at Jesus' feet... Martha complains about having to do all the work herself and asks Jesus to tell her sister to help. Jesus' reply however, is this "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." Luke 10 v 41-42 This spoke to me so much, because it really helped to clarify what I had been chewing over, that God's first request of us is to spend time with Him. That is what He loves above and beyond anything else that we might do or achieve... He desires worshippers rather than worship. I was indeed worried and upset about many things, but I knew that my priority was to spend time with my Father, drawing close to Him in intimacy, and that everything else would follow on from that.

"Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about... you will recieve power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Acts 1 v 4&8

Random Beach Day

2008-03-19T00:40:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I was invited out for the day by a random family from the church YWAM rent office space and lecture rooms from... it had come about because we had been talking about how it's been a bit of a bubble here and I hadn't actually meet that many Aussies while I have been here. So the very generous offer was extended to me to join them and 2 other families for a beach trip to have a genuine Aussie family experience on the Sunshine Coast.

So I was picked up at 8 in the morning and we set off about an hour north to this spectacular beach only accessible by 4 wheel drives. It was reminisent of Fraser Island, with less devil horse flies (this time we used the wonders of insect repellent), and a beautiful clear blue day.

It was quite awkward, I'm not gonna lie. There were a young married couple my age but they had just been through quite a hard time and so were pretty subdued and kept themselves to themselves... next down were 2 teenage girls who DEFINITELY didn't want to be there on a "famiy" day (far too cool!!) and then there were about 6 boys under 12 yrs, who obviously didn't have much to say to me!!

Despite this, I had a really nice day. I was quiet and the adults definitely picked up on this, but it was no reflection on how I felt about the day, I just needed to have some time where I could just sit and be looked after in a different space to my house!! I also really appreciated spending time around families again, and conversing with older adults which is not something we get much opportunity for here! A lovely time of refreshment.

Noosafest

2008-03-10T03:44:00.000-07:00

This Friday was FUN!! I think oneof the funnest days so far.

We kicked it off with intercession, which actually was quite intense and a time for looking inwards at what God wanted us to repent of... but what amazing freedom when you realise where you have been going wrong and that in the next moment you understand that God has already forgiven you. Incredible.

After that we headed to a beach called Mudjemba, where the YWAM base from the Gold Coast had come up to cook us a BBQ lunch just to bless us! How sweet. It was a beautiful day, bright blue skies and clear water (at last, yay!!). We chilled out on the beach, had lunch and then went in the waves. It was so much fun swimming through these huge waves, once I got past the whitewash anyway!! I managed to get quite far out but there were a few guys from the DTS out there too, so I always felt quite safe.

After that a few of us piled into a van and headed up north to a place called Noosa. It was big for surfing in the 60's and is still a popular site with good waves. This weekend it was hosting Noosafest, a surf comp/festival which included the Australian premiere of Walking On Water, a surf movie made by Bryan Jennings, an ex-pro who has a vision to impact the surfing community worldwide with the Gospel. There was music and a bit of testimony and then the film, which was really cool. Basically Bryan had been taken to Hawaii when he was a kid, by an older surfer he really looked up to, who had mentored him in surfing and life, sharing his faith with the boy. And this film was documenting Bryan's turn to do this for the next generation. He took 2 young surfers (11/12 yrs) from California to surf with Christian professionals in Peru, France, Australia, South Africa and Indonesia. There were various points when bits of the gospel were shared, but the most powerful was a group of township kids who surfed with them in Mossel Bay, just outside Cape Town, South Africa. They literally had nothing but were sitting on film declaring that God was the one who looked after them, and showing such a spirit of exuberance and love for life, despite their situation. All attributed to the hope they find in Jesus.

Awesome!!

English Rose

2008-03-10T03:27:00.000-07:00

Being English is quite a novelty here. I don't think I have been anywhere where my accent has been so imitated... it's quite amusing, particularly as often it sonds nothing like me. But then there are moments when I come out with a particular word or something that does sound very British and it is immediately relayed back to me, accompanied with a grin or some giggles.

The communication barriers between British and American English always fascinates me. They don't understand what loo roll is, they think arse is an awful word and you get a blank look when you ask for the hoover. And they just don't really get the British sense of humour, which can backfire sometimes... just ask Giles!!

In return, things I don't yet understand about Americans... their obsession with peanut butter -bizarre. Country music - enough said. George Bush... not a universal one but have definitely been surprised by some people's defence of their president. Although I have to admit they had some good points about loyalty etc (I'm still glad I don't have to be loyal to the President of the USA).

However all this is really meant in jest... I love all the guys here!! Plus it's really making me appreciate my own culture. And they get their own back singing songs about the war for independance, about how they shot the bloody Brits... don't they Reba?! Hahaha!!

Money Money Money

2008-03-10T02:58:00.000-07:00

Last Monday was Giving Day.

The idea is this... none of your money actually belongs to you, it has been entrusted to you by God. We are merely stewards of His great resources, and should look upon financial blessing (of any magnitude) as a way to bless others and further the work of the Kingdom of God.

No one at YWAM is paid a wage, even the guy that founded it. Every single staff member on any base across the world pays their own way and is supported by their church or friends or even random acquaintences that God moves... so you can imagine it's not that unusual for a YWAMer to not have any money! I decided before I came here that I needed to use this trip to learn about trusting God for finances, and so I earnt as much as I could in the job God gave me while I was in London, and stuck to my conviction that for this season I wouldn't appeal for support - I wanted to be sure that my focus remained on God providing, rather than specific people I had asked. Due to a hiccup with a tax rebate form, I found myself strapped for cash rather earlier than I had anticipated, hence my current situation of not having enough money to go on my outreach phase. However, I am not the only one in this predicament...

So the whole base was together after Monday morning worship, and we put up different peoples financial needs on a white board. There were some pretty huge figures up there - one girl needed $8000 (about £4000). Having done this, we all spent some time praying into what God was asking us as individuals to give and who to bless it with. Pledges were written down and given to Rob, the base director, and he marked down the adjusted "need" figures next to names on the board. I felt challenged to give all my money away... that was scary. I don't think I thought about it too much... and I certainly felt a little sick afterwards. But we had been singing about surrendering everything to Jesus, and how God is more than enough for us, and I felt God asking me to show Him this was true by giving to others all that I counted "mine". I got pledged it all back plus $100, which was pretty cool. There was an overall total of $21000 released in that room (full of "unemployed" YWAMers) in 45 minutes... what a testimony to the power and generosity of God!!

BUT I still needed some $500 to pay for my airfares... the due date was pushed back a bit until last Wed but Tues eve I was still short. This was such a big thing for me, money has always been the hardest aspect for me to trust God with. But at this point I had truely come to the end of everything I could do for the situation except sit and trust God that He would come through. So I woke up on Wed and went to lectures. No money miraculously in my bank account. Not that I could get it out anyway, as my card had been blocked. It was clear that the cash needed to come from Australia. After lectures we had small group and we chatted about our experience on Giving Day, and everyone prayed for me cos I was the only one still needing funds. Later that evening one of my housemates told me she still had some money from her business that she wanted to give away and could make up the difference for my ticket. Just like that! It was wierd, such an amazing answer to prayer and show of love yet it felt kinda normal... like, thanks, that's really cool. I felt God was saying "Well, what did you expect, that I would forget about you?"

Such a relief to know that was sorted... but I still need to find my ground fees and they are $2000 (£1000ish), so the waiting is not over!! I am learning so much by putting myself in this position though I know it sounds rather foolish. Who goes to Australia without enough money??! Well, I guess I do, because I want to be able to go where ever my God calls me without any hesitation, including worrying about finances.

I guess all that's left is to wait for the next miracle...

Erk

2008-02-25T00:39:00.001-08:00

So I found out today I need to get £800 by Friday to pay for my "outreach phase" airfare.
In cash.

Should be interesting...

Fraser Island

2008-02-12T00:21:00.000-08:00

So last weekend we all took off in a bunch of 4x4’s for a camping trip to the world’s largest sand island – Fraser Island. It was about 3 hours drive north of us, and we had to leave at 4 in the morning (eugh!), pick up the 4x4’s and get a ferry across. There’s nearly no tarmac on the island, so most of the weekend was off-roading to various degrees of extremity. It’s a pretty amazing place, with different stop-off points where you can swim or climb or take pictures. The most stunning of these was a place called Lake Makenzie – a huge freshwater lake in the middle of the island, with white sand beaches and crystal clear water. No kidding – it looked like the Bahamas or somewhere, but the water was sweet! Incredible beauty but no saltiness!! It was one of those surreal, dreamlike places that you would never have imagined could actually exist. Such a testament to God’s awesome creativity and beauty. The place we camped out at was along the beach (you aren’t allowed to swim in the ocean because there are so many sharks – didn’t deduce if this was for our protection or theirs…) which was another epic scene, windswept sand dunes with huge waves crashing as the sun goes down in a pinky murk of cloud. Pretty special. As were the 2 inch devil horseflies that plagued us all day… nasty!

A Day In The Life

2008-02-11T18:41:00.001-08:00

For those of you who are interested in what I’m ACTUALLY doing here…! The Discipleship Training School has a motto – “to know God and make Him known”. And that is the overall aim for this training, to release the students on the course into leadership and work on your character to produce integrity and passion for what you were created for.

The first 10 weeks are the “Lecture Phase” and during this time we have speakers visit the school for a week and take us through various topics. The day on the base (YWAM rent space at a local church) starts at 8.00 with worship or prayer, or outreach preparation time. Monday to Thursday we have lectures from 9.00 to 12.00 and then lunch together. The day is then “free” time until dinner at 6, but we are all assigned work duties at various times – I have to help out manual stuff at the church like cleaning and moving boxes. Wednesday afternoons we have small groups, and at some point during the week I will have a one on one with lovely Ashlee. Fridays are a bit different, we head out to a local spot of natural beauty (plenty to choose from around here) and get into small groups for a time of intercession, usually followed by messing around and silly games. Tuesday evenings we have lectures after dinner on “missional living” which is basically looking at what it means to live with a mission focused outlook. Wednesday evenings we have another worship session and Fridays a bunch of us go and hang out on the beach up the road in Mooloolaba.

In amongst all this we have to keep a journal of what we think about the lectures, do a study of a different character of God each week, and book reports, as well as all the time required to process and personally respond to what we are being taught in the lectures. It takes up a lot of headspace and despite it seeming like there’s a lot of free time during the week, I am actually exhausted by the time it gets to the weekend!! Just as well there’s a beach to lie on ;)

YWAM Sunshine Coast

2008-02-11T18:40:00.001-08:00

I guess it’s a bit silly to apply for a course when you are not sure what it really consists of, never mind flying half way around the world to turn up to a school without fully understanding what the organisation stands for. Arriving in Australia for my Discipleship Training School, I was full of anticipations but also a bit nervous because I had realised shortly before I left that I actually didn’t know much about Youth With A Mission as a whole, and was about to spend 5 months of my life subscribing to whatever it did stand for. Thankfully we did spend time in the first week looking at the story of how it all began and the values at the heart of YWAM international and YWAM Sunshine Coast. At the Sunny Coast base, they quickly tell you that they live by a set of values rather than rules. This stems from an expectation that we are all adults and able to look after ourselves without having details of our lives dictated to us. It is a call to a higher standard of living, one that requires you to think about how you act and how that will affect those around you rather than just blindly following a set of rules. Their belief is that learning to follow rules won’t make leaders, it just conforms you to a certain way of doing things. There is no thinking behind your change in behaviour, therefore it won’t last once you have let that situation that enforces it.

One of the most interesting things I have been taught here so far is that the Bible is not an instruction manual – that’s a popular description I have been brought up with, that it tells you how to live properly. It’s also one of the biggest criticisms I have heard from non-Christians, that they don’t want to subscribe to a set of rules. But if you think about it, the Bible doesn’t tell you what to think or do – there are so many situations that just aren’t covered, especially in modern culture!! Rather, it shows you how to think about what you do. Romans 12 v 12 talks about a renewing of your mind, and the Bible is a tool for transformation of our minds to a more Godly way of thinking, rather than for constricting them with a set of rules.

Answers eliminate the need for trust. If God desires a relationship with us, to see us grow and develop, then He is not going to just give us a load of do’s and don’ts because if that’s what we have then where do you go from there? There is no engagement in that scenario. Instead He challenges us to a lifestyle of values, constantly using our judgement and knowledge of Him, within the context of a loving relationship, to affect the world around us in a positive way.

Sweet.

Australia

2008-02-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

Flying has lost it’s romance. Yep, as hard as it is to say, I’m over it. Whilst still a traveller at heart, the mechanics of the air journey have started to rust and this last long haul to Australia only compounded the issue. I think the main problems stem from cramp when you are trying to sleep, and airports – so much faff in such a short distance. Aussie customs are particularly harsh, I’m surprised you are allowed to bring in your hairbrush. It doesn’t help when your bags get lost though. And although as a Brit I should probably love queues, when you have been awake for 24 hrs plus I think it’s understandable to be a little peeved whilst trying to make your way through passport control.

Stepping out of the airport at last, (more like dashing for the door as soon as I see it!) I have nearly an hour to wait for the bus that will take me up to the Sunshine Coast. The heat hits, by now a familiar embrace, leaving me unsure as to how I best receive it. The sun is bright, and the air humid, and I’m here… at last!!

So what do I think of Australia so far…? Very chilled out – Maroochydore is a quiet suburb, I feel so safe here. It’s a super affluent area, where lots of Aussies come for their summer holidays. The schools are back now, so the season is quieting down. The food is the same but different… always the thing that catches me out is looking forward to something I enjoy at home (like Greek Yoghurt and honey) and finding that it actually tastes gross. It’s the middle of summer but also cyclone season, so really hot and humid with random monsoon style flash floods. Bizarre to think there is a drought an hour south of us!

Aussie’s are very open and friendly, especially compared to London culture where people do their best to ignore you completely. It’s a fair bet that someone will say hi to you when you’re walking down the street, and it’s the first place in the world where you will get a random smile returned, rather than a weird look. They are also crazily patriotic… that impression might have something to do with Australia day being on the first weekend we were here (make that Australia weekend!!). Maybe it’s just a culture clash, but it was so weird having the patriotic kick in church on the Sunday… can’t ever imagine that happening in England!!

Yet despite the affluence, the great weather, the opportunities and the lack of poverty, something is missing here. 30% of Australians suffer from depression, and the suicide rate here is the highest in the world amongst young men in particular. You wouldn’t know it from surface appearances, but I guess it’s a case in point that material stuff isn’t what the soul needs…

Baggage

2008-02-11T00:37:00.000-08:00

Leaving home gets harder the more I travel. I worked out the other day that I have been on 6 long haul flights and 3 short haul international flights in the last 7 years, 7 of which have been for a month or more. I can certainly see that God has been faithful in His promise that I would travel! Sadly I haven’t improved on my packing technique despite all this practice. Preparing for the flight to Australia was probably one of the most stressful periods in my recent history… not happy days. A succession of small irritations gradually became overwhelming and I spent my last day in a state of denial that a) all these things were happening and b) I was actually leaving for the airport at 5pm. I think I started packing about 2.30ish.

The most annoying and stress inducing factor was the discovery on confirmation of my flights that while Singapore Airlines do allow an extra baggage allowance for sports equipment, you have to pay for the first 6 kg at £35/kg. Which is still over £200. Which I didn’t have floating around, as you may well imagine. Having alerted the prayer troops, I managed to sweet-talk my way around paying it once I got to the airport. Which was considerably later than I had wanted to arrive because after 20 mins on the first attempt we realised my passport was still sitting on the stairs… I think by the time I actually made it through security I was in such a daze I didn’t notice much!!

Anyway, this trip has been percolating for so long that it surprised me to feel so unprepared when it came to actually leaving. I guess the material things don’t really matter, and I can get whatever I desperately need in Australia (even though it’s SO expensive here!!). And it’s probably a good thing to not be so reliant on the stuff you carry around with you, however scary it is when things go missing, like when I arrived in Australia to find that my daypack (which is designed to zip on and off from my main backpack) had disappeared somewhere along the way. I was so jetlagged that I didn’t notice at the airport, and it wasn’t until I arrived at the YWAM base on the Sunshine Coast that I figured out something was wrong. Sadly because I had checked the bags in as one item, I hadn’t labelled up the small bag and so it’s floating around out there somewhere with absolutely no way of getting back to me. The annoying thing about it is that there is nothing in it that anyone would want to steal – just my Bible, prayer journal (which is 2 years old) with cards from friends and encouragements stuffed in it, and a notebook, hat and hairbrush. So it’s just been a random carelessness that has separated me from a record of my most private thoughts and the ways God has moved in my life over the past 2 years, which is only of value to me but leaves me feeling quite exposed and vulnerable knowing that someone could have picked it up and read it. All I can do is trust God that He guides it into the hands of someone who needs to hear how He loves people through the words they read in it, and that they can see through the venting of a private space and understand to treat it with discretion. His strength is made perfect in my weakness and powerlessness.

Plant Church

2008-02-11T00:36:00.000-08:00

Celibacy, celebrity, cake, cuddle… many have mused on the possibilities for the first C in our church name. The significance of the true meaning however stands at the heart of our purpose – Community Church Harlesden. I’m not sure how many people I talk to about joining a church plant really understand the idea. I know my mum struggles with it… she kept calling a plant church for ages (conjures up images of us meeting in a greenhouse amongst the potting compost), and I find it quite hard to explain really what it looks like as so much of that is just daily life. Nothing too grand - just a bunch of friends who try to bring a daily offering of sacrificial living; loving each other and sharing life together, loving our town and attempting to share life with the people who live around us.

I love being part of this church. It was hard when I first moved in – having spent nearly a year living either with my parents or totally on my own, it was a shock to the system to have to consider others and adapt routines to accommodate housemates. There are also other sacrifices – missing big worship sessions with loud drums and guitars (especially after Newsong!) was one I felt in particular, just because of my love of worshipping with music. And however romantic and idealistic it sounded in discussions, actually living with people with the intention of “doing life” is so difficult. A continual dying to self, is required as well as a servant heart, and there’s nothing like living with a bunch of people to show you the parts of your life and attitudes that are not so great! I arrived thinking that it would be easy and fun, mainly because I knew most of the people beforehand, but community living takes friendships to a whole new level!! Still, I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I believe it expresses so much of what Jesus calls us to in our walk with Him. I am challenged every day of the week, not just when I make the effort to go meetings. And if I felt like it, I could go to meetings in my pajamas. Beautiful.

6 Month Catch Up

2008-02-11T00:35:00.000-08:00

Wow, so I obviously forgot all about blogging once I got back to England. It wasn’t for lack of things happening, that’s for sure – maybe too much was happening!! Well, lets see if we can get up to speed…

My time in Cape Town came to an end much quicker than I expected – it was funny, I felt like 4 months was going to go on forever and ever amen when I was first there. But by the end it was actually really hard to leave. I think that had everything to do with the amazing people in such a wonderful church. Newsong welcomed me in as a stranger far from home, and poured so much time and love and prayer into my life for the short period that I was with them that even now when I think about it I am quite staggered. I’ll never forget the last few days… Marlies and Ange took me on a magical mystery tour of the Cape Peninsular, and it was so much fun going to all the touristy places (especially the penguins at Boulders beach!!) after working pretty darn hard for the previous 4 months. We had goodbye drinks at a trendy cocktail bar in Kloof St, and SO many people turned up, even people who I hadn’t told about it. Guys – I was so touched by that. It was so special that you bothered to come into town just to say goodbye. Then my last night in Cape Town was a Sunday, so church was my final memory! For a while I thought it would go fairly unnoticed, which suited me fine as I was getting a bit emotional thinking about leaving. But then at the end Brad made me get up to be prayed for, and I was expecting maybe a couple of people to bother coming forward… when I looked up at the end, I was totally surrounded. Words can’t really do justice to how amazing that felt – it was like I had been there 4 years, not 4 months!! The beautiful thing about a community like Newsong is that being loved like that leaves a mark on you, and you carry it with you wherever you go from then on. I hope that I never forget what it felt like to be such a complete stranger with no idea what was going on around me, and to be taken in and treated as an equal and valued member as anyone else.

So I arrived back in the UK July 18th 2007. I was planning a quiet summer, no job, chill out with the parents at home before moving up to London in September. No such luck… as soon as I got home I went on a complete mission of a trip - first up to Doncaster for a reunion weekend with Ian and Simea Meldrum, the pastors from Agua Viva church in Brazil where I had led a student mission trip from St John’s a year previously. It was a lovely weekend to catch up with Lucy, Jodie and Andy who had all also been out there, and to hear about what was going on and plans for the future. And Jefferson was there too!! I also had to do a talk about leading a short term mission, which was funny – I felt kinda weird standing up there like some kind of speaker when that was the only mission trip I had ever been on!! But I guess it was all about God’s power in my weakness, always better that way around ;) On the Sunday afternoon I got a train from Doncaster to Shepton Mallet, to join some friends for the rest of Soul Survivor Momentum. Plans went all crazy at the last minute but I got there and (more importantly) had a tent to keep me dry! It was an awesome few days, and although kinda weird to miss the first couple of days completely I was loving it!! After that marathon, it was good to be home at last, and I spent about 2 days in bed with the new Harry Potter book!

The rest of my summer consisted of working a couple of days a week for my Godmother doing wedding cakes from her house in Lee on Solent (she closed the shop down when I went to SA) and a couple of days a week doing some work experience with the media dept at the RNLI. There were also 2 solo wedding cakes (and accompanying weddings) a couple of trips to Egham, a few driving lessons and a 24th birthday. I think I had about 5 days to myself in 6 weeks!! Still, no-one can accuse me of being unproductive!

September arrived much too soon for my liking, and that meant one thing… find a job and move up to London. This had long been the plan – to join the church plant in Harlesden, living in community houses in NW London. In reality, I had to move to London to find a job, so I bunked on Rach’s floor for a week or so while waiting for a room in one of the houses to free up. Eventually I got steady work until Christmas at Marks and Spencers Head Office, and settled into the rhythm of life in London. Maybe I’m getting used to fitting into places quickly because I’m never around for long, maybe it helped that I knew most of the people before I actually moved, but despite a bumpy start I felt a part of Harlesden Community so easily. As well as the privilege of being able to live with some of my most loved brothers and sisters, I found the friendships that have blessed me the most in this short time - particularly in my house - have been the new ones that have been made or deepened. I don’t know if certain people realise how much they have affected me. I can’t believe my luck to have experienced a second place of total acceptance and complete love, when some people have never had that at all.

2 Weeks & Counting...

2007-07-01T06:33:00.000-07:00

Wow, how fast does life move by? Suddenly I am facing 2 weeks left in South Africa, and not wanting to go home!! Actually, to be specific, I can't wait to go home BUT I don't really want to leave, if you catch my drift. Trying to concentrate on having fun for the time I have left and not focus on the nastiness of saying goodbye.

This week has been quite stressful at work but great fun outside of it... had dinner with Marlies on Tues, and her boyfriend Ryan and housemate Rob joined us for chocolate bananas YUM! Dinner and drinks with work girlies on Thurs, always a giggle, learnt some more ways to insult each other with our hands (in the time honoured tradition of "loser" and "whatever"). Then we went to the cinema with Ange on Fri night, to see Amazing Grace - beautiful film, I think I appreciated it more being English but it was really well done and very moving and I would recommend everyone who hasn't seen to do so IMMEDIATELY! Ahem. Then last night I was taken out for a Cape Townian "night on the town", which was brilliant- we went to a club called Tiger Tiger and danced our little socks off! It's been ages since I went out like that, and is so good to let off some steam after a stressy week :)

However, all good things must come to an end, as they say. And one of the annoying things about going home is surely trying to figure out what I need to do with myself next. I am looking forward to some rest time at home with the family and the weddings coming up over the summer (not so much looking forward to taking my driving test again, erk! Or my dental appointment...) Hoping to catch up with friends, going to Soul Survivor etc etc BUT I am going to have find an amazing job if I want to move to London in September. Any ideas?? Answers on a postcard....

Some Recent Thoughts...

2007-06-09T03:53:00.000-07:00

On my time in Africa -

Beautiful country but not for long term at this point. If God called me here for a reason then, it must be about what I can take away with me...?

Chocolate and chicken taste much better over here.

South Africa is cold.

On me -

I am a people pleaser. Is this a good thing?

Hot showers are good.

I thrive on being busy, but lazy days are a good thing as well. Busyness is a convenient excuse for many things.

I miss diving.

On relationships -

Good friendships take much time and effort, but pay back many times over what you invest.

God has been teaching me so much of the value of community over the past few years, and how it is such a pure and beautiful expression of His church. Yet I still have a strong conviction that my life is about travel and moving on to new places, which inevitably means I have to leave communities that I become a part of behind. I love the thrill of a new adventure, but it hurts me to know that I will have to say goodbye to whatever I start building. How do these things reconcile in His greater plan for my life...? I'm not sure yet.

I will miss my friends at Newsong.

Singleness is my default setting, my comfort zone. I have always assumed that singleness = holiness as there is nothing worse or more distracting than being in a relationship for the wrong reasons. But recently I have become aware that my reasons for being single could also be wrong... because I can be independant, much less faff etc but ultimately I feel more secure to declare my heart a no-go area. I won't let anyone touch it. These are not the reasons God wants me to be single, and could lead to as much pain as being in a wrong relationship.

Single is definitely the way to go at the moment!!

On plans for the future -

Looking forward to coming back. Time at home over the summer, and then make a move to London. Scary step financially, but He will provide for what He calls me to. In the New Year it's time for YWAMage in Australia and then most definitely back to Hoga for some more diving and to see my friends there. After that, maybe back to uni?? Maybe try and get some training in underwater film?? Who knows... watch this space!

Soup Kitchen

2007-05-30T08:32:00.001-07:00

Just a bit more about the street ministry I have been getting involved in....

Every Sunday at 5pm, a few of us meet on a street corner in a suburb called Mowbray. We bring hot soup and bread, and the love of Jesus. There are a few regulars and often new faces each week. We give them soup and bread and then Rob gives a short word from the Bible, and we pray. Then we chat until it's time to head off for church.

They smell and wear dirty clothes. Sometimes they talk at me for ages in a mixture of English and Afrikaans so I don't have a clue what they are saying. Sometimes they shout. They will shake hands and hug you and cry on your shoulder without even knowing your name. They ask you to pray for them and I don't have a clue where to start. They all have a different story, most of which will break your heart. Some are more comfortable on the streets than anywhere else, and you can't see any hope of getting them into a safer situation. They carry their whole lives around with them, in shopping trollies or plastic bags.

Some know the love and power of God, and some don't. Some have such zeal for him, others harbour resentment and anger. Some follow with the faith of a child, others get hung up on minor issues that cloud their understanding of the Gospel.

I don't know how much of a difference it make to them that I am there. I don't know if they will notice when I'm not. But I know that everytime I talk or laugh with them, or give them warm food, I am saying that God gives a damn. That He places value on them. That His love extends to them, even in the darkness of their situation. And I do that even if He is the only one who sees.

" 'For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' "

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' "

I'm bringin bloggin back...

2007-05-27T04:54:00.000-07:00

I have been neglecting my blog. There's not really any excuse, other than I have actually been very busy (which is a good thing) and probably more than a little lazy (not quite so good). And having spent all day writing emails, the last thing I want to do in the evening is write my blog... The trouble is, now there is quite a lot to catch you all up on!! So get comfy, kids!!

Robben Island

The last time I blogged was over a month ago. The week after Table Mountain was painful - my legs actually refused to work for a good 2 or 3 days. I am very pround of my achievement but am in no way feeling the need to do that again IN MY LIFE. Unless we involve some cable-cars, in which case I could easily be persuaded. The next Saturday the same gang booked seats on a tour around Robben Island. This is the prison island where they formerly incarcerated political threats, most notoriously of course Nelson Mandela. It had been used as a prison for criminals for a long time prior to this, and now continues as a living museum. The guides have all served sentences there, and now moved back with their families to live and work in order that the stories contine to be told. It is a very humbling experience to walk into a cell which previously held the man who is leading your group around, or people known by him. It brings it all home very hard.

Field Trippin

Monday 30th April 2007 - alarm call goes at 3.30 in the morning and I am up and dressing ready to get a taxi to the airport with the rest of the students. We catch a flight to Jo'burg, loaded down with all our camera equipment (the guys carrying the big rig D50s around the airport get some funny looks!), and the other end get started on a 5-6 hour transfer to Karongwe private game reserve. We should arrive around 4ish, in time to unpack and familiarise ourselves with the location on a quick dusk game drive. Should. But this is Africa, remember? About half an hour out from the airport, our transfer van is pulled over by a random police inspection. Apparently public transport operations (by this they mean transfers and taxis etc etc) have to be licensed not only for the vehicle and the driver but also for the particular route they are driving. And naturally, our driver doesn't have the correct paperwork to satisfy the demanding traffic cops. Of course!! It takes nearly 2 hours for him to arrange to take action on the immediately delivered suggestion that he go and pay the fine at the nearest police station, which is only 15 mins away. Which means that we are left sitting by the road in the middle of nowhere, with a 5 hour journey still ahead of us. Splendid! We eventually get moving again, and the hours slide by... we reach 5 o'clock and ask how long it is until we should get there. About 40 mins, apparently. 40 minutes later, we pass a sign which informs us there is still about 50km to the nearest main town. Now it's getting dark and the driver admits he doesn't know how far it is until we get there. Which really means he is lost, doesn't it? Yes it does. Hmmmmmm. We spend about 20 mins trying to turn the bus around in a dust track(there is a trailer on the back with all our expensive camera gear, whic makes 3 point turns quite a hair-raising experience), and eventually arrive at our destination, tired and hungry, at 9.00. Thankfully everone is laughing, and after a yummy braai dinner, all turn in for bed.

We get up everyday at 5 am, troop off in one of 2 open top landrovers and hopefully after catching the magnificent African sunrise over the bush, spend the morning chasing/filming/not moving around too much in front of wild animals. I quickly resume my place in the pecking order as "butt of all jokes" thanks to Falk, our camera tutor for the trip. At least I'm useful for something!! I am supposed to be filming a "behind the scenes" thing for the students but sadly the cameras are all being used quite a lot. A keen bunch, this lot! The week proceeds rather quickly, with soaring temperatures during the beautiful days, and freezing night-times. I soon fall into the habit of wearing ALL my clothes at once, and then peeling back the layers as the sun rises into the morning. I wake up in about 3 t shirts and a huge fleece, fleecy beanie and socks and trainers, and by lunchtime I'm in a strappy top and flipflops. Evening requires the reverse proceure. I also make good use of my bush geek hat, purchased complete with a foldaway flap to protect the back of the neck from the sun. My father would be proud! There was much hilarity with my initial demonstration, but once the sun got burning they were laughing on the other side of their faces, mwahahahaha!

Aside from bush fashions, the week produced many unforgettable moments. The first time I nearly stepped on a black mamba outside my tent in the dark (it was only a baby but I could have died, serious!). My first African sunrise. My first African game drive! The first time I saw giraffes. And a white rhino. And elephants, about 10 meters away!! The realisation that there is so much of God's passion and beauty evident in His creation (not the first time though!) and the awestruck wonder of a full moon rising through the trees, coloured bright red by particles in the atmosphere. A full-on meteor flashing through the sky while we drive along under the stars to find a lion pride, staying visible for about 20 seconds. I leave the bush somewhat breathless, and eager for my next trip!

All Good Things...

Once we are back from the field trip, it is time to begin the somewhat labourious process of logging and digitising footage into recognisable and useable clips for editing. Over the next 2 weeks I run in and out of lectures, juggling a few more responsbilities I have been handed for the smooth running of the Academy. The days go by quickly, and I often find myself working late into the night. I do get a chance to edit together my Making Of film, which energises me for the whole process. It's been a while since I used Final Cut Pro but it soon comes back to me, and I am actually amazingly pleased with the finished project. So are the other lecturers involved, which is even better, as I feel I have been able to show what I can do. The end of the course comes quickly, and all of a sudden we are saying goodbye to the students who only arrived what seems like a couple of days ago. It is a sad but exciting time, and everyone is making plans for what comes next. It makes me feel a bit homesick, actually. My time is not yet over, and I have to stay focused on the following couple of weeks before the next course starts. My manager is going to be away until after the next course starts, so we only have a few days to sort things out together and she leaves me with a long long to do list BUT she says she is confident that things will get done, which is a nice thing to hear.

Preparations

So have spent the last week catching up on all the admin (and there is ALOT) and generally preparing for the next course. It's been cold cold cold here in recent days, so the jumper and electric heaters have been out in force. The cold isn't that extreme, especially compared to English winter BUT Cape Town houses are just not built to cope with any kind of drop in temperature. There is absolutely no understanding of the concept of central heating here. At all.

In-between working, I am developing a bit more of a social life, mainly revolving around church. I have been to the cinema (Fracture - very interesting movie) and a board games night (where I met a girl who was just back from 12 years in London - the past 4 1/2 of which she had been working for Paula's parents at their praye healing ministry - WEIRD!!). Church was cancelled last weekend due to high risk of flooding at the golf club we use as a venue, so Marlies and I staying in and watched DVDs - we got hooked on a new series called Heros, quite amazing by the way! I have been helping out at a soup kitchen for the homeless in an area called Mowbray, which has been a pretty amazing experience. I managed to get my butt along to a cell group this week (only 10 weeks into my trip... doh) and we did creative worship, which was awesome. I have been feeling a little distant from God the past few weeks, and due to laziness and de-motivation on my part mainly, but this was an awesome way to re-connect without the usual guilt over quiet times due to my short attention span. Yesterday morning there was a workshop on looking at ministering into areas of poverty, and how to help facilitate long term development and transformation in needy communities rather than just handing out relief in times of crisis. Very inspiring, and I felt God stirring stuff in my heart again - such an amazing feeling after weeks of nothingness!! So I am eager to see how this grows...

Fish Out Of Water

2007-04-22T04:53:00.001-07:00

Sat 21st April

The challenge looms before us, ever present on the corner of our consciousness. Seductive in it's notoriety, intimidating in it's elusiveness, we formulate our plan of attack...

The team gather early, as mist fills the city bowl. Shadows of doubt creep in but are quickly dispelled as we set off, ready for whatever the day might bring!

We reach the start point, and stand face to face with... TABLE MOUNTAIN!!

Ok, so it wasn't really that dramatic. People from all over the world do this everyday. But climbing the mountain still proved to be an accolade not easily won, and I am significantly chuffed with myself for having not only got myself up to the highest point (1086 m I believe) but also walked around on top and then got myself all the way back down again (ignoring the lure of the cable car!). A day is significant when you learn something, particularly about yourself, and this day showed me that beyond all doubt - I am not a mountain goat.

Climbing and hiking do not fulfil me in the way they do others. I can appreciate the beauty and splendor of mountain ranges, I can be inspired and awe-struck by rugged cliffs jutting out into the sea, and the biologist in me can be intrigued by the various species encountered whilst communing with nature but I do not feel this insatiable call to scale the heights of mountain upon mountain for the pure sake of it. I will occasionally answer the challenge - Table Mountain is one of those that proved too alluring to ignore - but I will tackle them at my own pace. Slowly but surely, as the proverbial tortoise, bringing up the rear and contemplating why on earth I started this mad journey. This only adds to the achievement in my mind... I just don't feel at home on the rocky slopes of a mountain.

Give me the continental shelf any day! Below water I feel a freedom and a curiosity that tugs at my heart and calls to my soul. I don't really mind where I dive (temperature aside) as those first few seconds descending into the blue calm my mind and allow me to breathe deeply in my spirit once again. Every dive brings me back to the same place where I can re-focus, even if it is only for those few seconds. And every dives deepens the hold of the ocean on my life.

Which is why I remain, unashamedly an ocean fish. Not a mountain goat.

And So It Begins

2007-04-22T04:51:00.000-07:00

16th - 20th April

Monday morning I woke up with a smile on my face. For the first time since I got to Cape Town, I felt a peace about being here. And an excitement for the here and now... what would happen this week?

Well, with the new WFA course starting, anything could happen - and anything did!! Wednesday would be the first day but there was a lot of stuff to prepare first, and for those 2 days we were running around like headless chickens. Thankfully, after a couple of long days, everything seemed good to go. This week I received a new job title - it was decided that "intern" was not a particularly good description of my role, especially with the few added responsibilities that I have been given since I started. So I am now the Wildlife Film Academy Co-ordinator. Very grand! It will certainly look better on my CV...

Wednesday arrives and so do the new students. All seem very pleasant but as with any group, it will take a couple of days to get to know each other before they will gel as a team. And I will have to work out my place in amongst all that. The part of me (naively) expecting ready-made friends was disappointed, but that is to be expected - after all, it's going to take time to build friendships no matter what situation you are in.

The course has really given me something to get my teeth stuck into - so far it has been mostly lectures but I have been learning so much about the business side of making wildlife films, and how you can actually make a living from it. It's a valuable chance to get an "inside" peek at the industry and how it operates, very interesting!! I am staring to get very excited about the field trip as well... that's only a week or so away now! Can't wait for my first safari bush experience :)

Bush Camp

2007-04-22T04:49:00.001-07:00

13th - 14th April

This weekend was the Newsong Bush Camp. Those that really know me understand I have to work hard with new people... it's not my natural inclination to go up and talk to people I don't know. I have been in plenty of situations at uni where I had to do this, and I still find it difficult. Even harder when I'm the new one!! I decided to go away with the church though, as however intimidating the prospect of a whole weekend with strangers was, it seemed preferable to a weekend twiddling thumbs in my room. And I want to get to know these people right? So take a deep breath and let them get to know you!!

We drove about an hour and a half out of Cape Town to a place called Stanford, just outside Hermanus - the whale watching capital of the Garden Route (in season, of course). The Bush Camp was called Wortlegat (pronounced Vortlehat, with the attractive throaty thing thrown in there) but despite the name it was a lovely place, on the side of a lagoon and not far from the beach. We stayed in cute little dorm cabins, which were connected to the main meeting hall and toilets etc by wooden walkways - all very rustic. Unfortunately Friday evening was some kind of freak weather event, and the temperature plummeted down to really really cold. It had been much cooler this week, signs of South African winter on it's way, but this was crazy cold. England cold. So cold you could see your breath. And our cute little dorm wall did not join up with our cute little dorm roofs, so you can imagine that however cold it was outside, it was that cold inside as well. Not fun. I think my nose froze during the night (the only part of my body I allowed out of my sleeping bag).

Thankfully the rest of the weekend warmed up significantly, and Saturday night was much more pleasant. The general mood of the weekend was chilled, a chance to hang out and build relationships (so no getting away from the awkward talking to people you don't know moments) but I found that people were incredibly welcoming and they sertainly seemed to realise that I would be feeling a little out of my depth. It really challenged me to think about how welcoming I am to new people at home. I don't think I make them feel this much a part of things, mainly because I am quite shy myself... but is that really a good excuse?? Maybe not so much...

Sat morning we had a time of worship together and then were sent off with some Bible passages and questions, to find a quiet spot for some "solitude and reflection" with/on God. It was good to be given a specific time to do this, as most often life overwhelms any intentions you may have, but all I could focus on was that I still was unsure about why I was here (generally in South Africa, rather than at Bush camp!) and God was still pretty quiet on that front. In the afternoon we went to one of the most amazing, powerful beaches I have ever seen - it was incredible!! Huge surf, waves pounding up these rugged sand dunes and a regal mountain range in the backdrop. It was certainly worth the hour's walk to get there!! And Sat evening heralded my first South African braai, a true cultural experience not to be forgotten! Where as in the UK the BBQ is seen as mostly a male domain, all are equal here and girls are expected to cook alongside the boys. We ate around a bonfire and told jokes and stories under the stars... beautiful!

Sunday we headed back to Cape Town the scenic coastal route, which was fabulous as it was a glorious blue sky day and the sea was amazing. Even managed to stop off for some ice creams, yumm!! :) Went to church as usual Sunday evening, but there was something different... I knew people!! I felt a real shift in the way I percieved my position within that group - the power of shared experiences. And I felt God say "this is good".

... Short Week

2007-04-22T03:44:00.000-07:00

Tues 10th - Sun 14th April

Sadly this week I woke up with an eye infection. Gross. Thankfully there is a super-fantastic pharmacy about 20 minutes walk away, so I was able to get some gooey medicine to put in my gooey eye, but the thing about this walk is that it's 20 minutes downhill. And then you have to walk back. Up hill. And this hill, seriously, it makes Egham Hill look like a gentle slope. This may well be because it's gearing up to become Table Mountain, but that doesn't stop me having to walk up and down it anytime I want/need to buy groceries, rent videos or as in this week acquire medicines. I keep telling myself it's like a free gym, and encouraging the next step upwards by thinking how fit I will be by the end of my stay, but let's face it - a year living on the 4th floor of Founder's building didn't do much... it is these moments I most intensely regret failing my driving test.

I must add, though, that there are plenty of moments when I am relieved I failed, and don't have to manoeuvre a strange car around in Cape Town traffic!!

So this week was my first official week as "intern", now that Grace has departed these shores. It was ok. I'm still not amazingly excited or fulfilled by my work experiences, but everyone has to start at the bottom and work up, so I'm glad I can do it in an exciting place like Cape Town. I have been feeling very inspired to see the rest of Africa now, especially the other countries in Southern Africa like Namibia, Botswana and Mozambique. I am also missing Asia A LOT still. It's funny how I always seem to get restless. I worry sometimes, even in the most amazing places, how quickly I will start looking to the next thing.

Long Weekend...

2007-04-16T10:42:00.000-07:00

Question - In what possible situation could a 4 day weekend be a bad thing?
Answer - When you have just moved to a new city and have no friends and no money.

Easter weekend loomed and I was trying hard not to think about the task of filling 4 long days on my own. Of all the times to have a double bank holiday!! However, it didn't turn out as dire as I feared - I made friends with Mr Video and watched umpteen films and caught up with the last half of The OC season 3. Managed to unpack and sort out my stuff in my room (I finally moved into the WFA on Thursday). Went for a walk to the nearest shopping centre and bought some conditioner for my hair (mundane, yes but highly important - and you wouldn't believe the trouble I have had finding spray leave-in stuff!!), some scented candles for my room, and a conversion plug from UK 3 pin to South African 3 pin (they have the WIERDEST plugs in the world here!!). Read some books. Drank some Rooibus. Sunday evening went to church - decided I should probably go back after last week!!

Monday was a lovely surprise - Marlies dropped me off after church on Sunday and invited me out with her and a couple of friends to a wine farm the next day. We drove about an hour out of Cape Town into the beautiful Winelands district and spent a morning tasting wine and cheese. It's the first time I had really done anything like that, so felt very grown up and sophisticated. Still couldn't tell the difference between most of the red wines though... and I ate mould eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrghhh!!!!(in blue cheese - not my favourite, if you couldn't tell but at least I tried it!)

We bought some cheese and wine, as appropriate when at a cheese and wine farm, and had a picnic under a big shady tree in the middle of the beautiful hills covered in the oranges and reds of autumn vineyards. It was just a very gorgeous and lazy day, in a beautiful part of the world. Love it!

Making Deals with God

2007-04-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

So Sunday came and at a loose end I decided to have a wander down to the Waterfront. Armed with my map (hidden in my bag, obviously) I took a stroll, with the intention of checking out this city I am to call my home for the next 3+ months. It is certainly very beautiful. You've got to give it that. But as I was walking and thinking, I suddenly realised that I didn't really care that much about this place. Rather depressingly, the things I was seeing as I passed through the streets were not causing any kind of reaction in me, except maybe "is this it, then?".

In hindsight, I was obviously feeling quite homesick, and facing loosing the friends I had made thus far in the coming days, as they were all heading back to the UK in various fashions. I was also feeling a little isolated, as not having a car is quite a huge issue in terms of mobility in Cape Town. But even knowing these facts doesn't make the situation feel any better... if you're down, you're down. But there had been (and still is) a great expectation on my part that this time in South Africa was going to be very significant, and that there was a bigger reason that I was coming here - part of God's plan for my life, and various words of encouragement and prophecy had confirmed this prior to my departure from the UK. So it is a little disheartening to arrive in a city you feel you have been sent to for a reason, and find that you're not even sure you like it!!

I knew I needed to go to a church that evening. The churches I had been told about were all quite a distance from me, and a taxi was going to be fairly costly, which worried me. But I knew that if I could connect in with some people on my wavelength, who were not a part of the work environment and who weren't going to fly to a different country anytime soon, that I would start to feel more settled. Also there was the God thing, He would probably make me feel better. But I wasn't in a particularly good mood with God at this point, and our conversation ran something like this:

Me "So this is Cape Town then?"
God "Yep"
Me "Soooooo, what's this big Africa plan then?"
God " "
Me "Um, ok well can you tell me anything about why I'm in Cape Town?"
God " "
Me "You gotta give me something!! I mean it's a beautiful place and everything, but there's more to me being here than that, isn't there? I just need a little encouragement that this was a good idea!"
God " "
Me "Look - I have spent all this money coming over to a country I have never thought twice about to get work experience in a job I don't even know that I want to do, and all because You told me to. I'm here! I made it!! What now...?"
God " "
Me " Why are you being like this?? I don't understand!! Why am I here??? Why aren't I in Asia?? Why should I stay? Why shouldn't I just go home?? Why are You being so quiet, You had plenty to say in England!! Why why why aaarrgghhhhhhhhhh!!"
God " "
Me "I feel poo-ey."

So I hope you can see how productive that was. At this stage I gave up asking questions, and began to tell God how it was...

Me "Ok, well I'm going to go to this church tonight but it's too far away for me to afford a taxi each week, so if you want me to go there then I'd like a lift back please. I'm sure that's not too much for You to handle. Also it would be great if you could give me some kind of prophecy or picture or something that deals with my doubts, because I know that You sent me here but I'm not really feeling it at the moment. Preferably through someone else so I know I'm not imagining it. Then I will really know I'm supposed to be here."

Childish? Completely. And I am so in awe of God's patience and goodness that He puts up with stuff like this from me. If I had been that petulant to my mother I would have got a smacked bottom (or at least told I deserved one!).

Anyway, so I huffed and puffed my way back to the hostel and booked a taxi and turned up at church. I had decided to check out the Vineyard church's young adults service, which is called Newsong and meets on Sunday evenings in a golf club. I was a bit early but was welcomed in first by a guy called Tim and then by a girl called Marlies. It was a cool service, and I felt very comfortable with the style etc, but the best thing was realising that God had actually been listening that afternoon. As soon as Marlies found out I had got a taxi over, she insisted on giving me a lift back. And at the end of the service a girl came over to me and said she felt she had some encouragement from God - she saw me running after Him but not ever quite catching Him up, feeling like He was just out of reach. She said that God wanted to say that I would catch up with Him, I would catch the vision that He has for me."

Me "Thank you" (sheepishly)
God "I am always with you and I am listening. I love you. Be patient."
Me "I know. I'm sorry. I love You."

My First Week...

2007-04-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Sunday 1st April

... has been a mixed one, actually. A general feeling of apprehension with regard to making my mark on a new job, in a new city on the other side of the world from all my family and friends had been interspersed with moments of hilarity, the glow of making new friends and breathtaking views of a spectacular backdrop to it all. There is always a fear of being judged inadequate with any new venture, and despite having dealt with my first week of solo travel in a fairly triumphant manner, the first week working at the WFA has proved a slightly tougher challenge. I know it will take time to settle into the role here, and at the moment I am in a "training period" so am being introduced slowly. In reality it's meant I have ended up doing all the jobs no-one else wants to do... such is the lot of the new intern!

Life is not made easier by living in a dorm room at a local youth hostel (I won't move in to the provided accommodation for a few days yet) and all the invasions of privacy and routine that come with that. The hostel, Ashanti Lodge, is actually a really lovely place to stay but has quite a party vibe and whereas that suits the backpackers down to a T, I have now moved into the working world and so don't fully appreciate the need to have mother's meetings in Spanish at 5 in the morning, or to switch the light on when everyone else is clearly asleep!! Some people have no consideration, it seems.

Thankfully life is not all work and interrupted sleep... the area I am staying in is perfectly situated to make the most of Cape Towns nightlife, and cheap food and drinks are the norm here. We have been out nearly every night this week, and I have got to know Grace, Sam and Natasha very well! Yesterday (Sat) we went mountaineering (well, almost) - and climbed Lion's Head (well, I did nearly!!) The Discovery Channel were doing a local launch for their new Everest series, which involved turning this South African mountain into Nepal for a day - there were fake monks and realistic Sherpa food samples, even a "blizzard" in a tent!! The deal was that you climbed the Lion's Head and had your photo taken at the top, which entered you into a prize draw to win a trip to Nepal. This was being drawn that evening at an "after-party" at a bar in Camps Bay called La Med. So we set off all enthusiastic and passed some glorious views of Cape Town looking down over both the city bowl sides and Green Point/Sea Point etc. Unfortunately the heat proved to much for me and as I was starting to feel nauseous decided to rest in the shade while the others continued to the top. I wasn't too bothered to be honest - it was a great view from where I stopped, plus I had made it all but about 20 minutes, which is still quite impressive in my book. And there was no way I wanted to deal with heat exhaustion in a dorm room, no thank-you-very-much-at-all!! I did feel the shame every time a kid passed me sitting on my rock, on their way down from the summit. But shame doesn't cure heat exhaustion, does it? So on my rock I stayed.

Reunited, we made our way down the mountain and on to La Med for some much needed sugar and shade. One of the course camera lecturers was filming the event, and when he found us at the bar invited us over to have drinks with the TV gang. It was a really nice chilled out evening with interesting people and even more interesting drinks - what more could you ask for, except a couple of very attractive young men... oh yeah, we had those too!! ;)

Cape Town, Baby!!

2007-04-07T05:34:00.001-07:00

Sat 24th March ....

Baz Bused it all the way to Cape Town today, another all day journey but again some spectaculer views down the Garden Route. Actually awe-inspiring. The beauty found in this place in undeniable. From the first moment you meet it, it calls out to you, gently but firmly holding your attention. Infintely blue skies seperated from stretches of clean sand by powerful breakers rolling up to the waters edge - all this I had expected. What I had not been prepared for was the dramatic hills defining the landscape from the coast inwards. A distant mountain range shrouded in mist and glowing in the evening light rises gracefully up to meet the heavens, sending out rolls of grassy plains abounding from its feet. Once the sun has set, the golden orange glow gives way as darkness encroaches over the epic landscape. In the distance, the sky is punctuated by whispy clouds, stark in contrast against their gently luminous backdrop. All is peaceful as the world prepares for sleep.

Last Few Days of Freedom!

2007-04-06T05:33:00.000-07:00

Wed 21st - Fri 23rd March

I felt quite bereft leaving Durban, as if I really hadn't spent enough time there. Taking up on the Baz Bus once again, I spent all day travelling down the Wild Coast to Port Elizabeth (and I mean ALL day, we left at 7.30 in the morning, and arrived at 11.30 at night!). My bum was glad to get off that bus - I worked out that journey was longer than the time I had spent on the aeroplane to get here!! We even watched some films! But to be honest, who wants to watch a 10 year old movie when you are travelling along some of the most dramatic coastline in the world? Exactly. Beautiful views, I got quite jealous of all these people hopping on and off the bus while I had to move on past all these gorgeous places. Got to be in Cape Town by the weekend!! The Baz Bus is a good place to meet people, as you invariably end up sitting next to or nearby someone new for a good few hours, but I am getting tired of explaining myself to so many new faces knowing that they are either going to forget because they are just being polite or I'm never going to see them again. Once I arrive at my hostel it's straight to bed but looking forward to some me time the next day.

I wake up and decide to go to the beach. I am interested to see a bit of the town, as it's where Aimee used to live, but really I want to spend some time by the ocean seeing as I missed out in that in Durban. The hostel staff are very friendly, and give me a street map with lots of arrows on it. I spend the day wandering down (it takes quite a while, as it is a lot further to get to the beach than it sounds) and had a brunch in a cafe overlooking the sea. Read a book until I felt I had overstayed my welcome (waitresses here are rather over-attentive and despite the fact the place was empty they seemed quite keen for me to pay my bill!!) and then wandered some more down what seemed like endless beaches. It was so wonderful to breath the sea air and feel the sand between my toes, and know that I had absolutely nothing to do today except enjoy myself. I end up thinking a lot about Indonesia, and Hoga, and realise that I really miss it a lot. It scares me how much of a yearning for it I feel. I wonder if I'll ever see those friends again? I must make going back next summer a priority, if I get the chance again...

Sat for a while in the dunes and then noticed that my feet were burning. Realising I have fallen for the deception of the clouds and wind, I turn back in search of some shade which is eventually found in an ice-cream parlour (hehe!!). Well, I need fuelling up for the trip back (South African cities seem to all be built on hills!).

It later emerges that I didn't put my suncream on evenly at all this morning, so once again I have an original design splashed all the way up my arms and legs. Nice. An early night ensues as it's first ting for the bus again tomorrow morning. Thankfully only an hour or so to get to the next stop though...

Jeffery's Bay!! The surfing capital of Africa. Or the world, depending on who you speak to. Well, I had to see it didn't I? Rather an odd sort of place - blatantly all about surfing, and apart from that just a quiet little beach town going about it's daily business. Beautiful beach. Shame about the stick in the middle dictating which side of it the blacks stay and which side the whites stay (that made me cross). My bed at the hostel was right by the door and looked out over the sea, I was absolutely mesmerised by those waves! I would have liked to have spent longer here - I think I would have done a lot more if I had, but I only had the one day, so enough for a nose around and that's it really. Plus sunburn issues prevented any surfing related frolikry. But had a nice chilled out day and made some more friends! The hostel had quite a party vibe, so it was an interesting place to chat to some interesting people that evening over beers and mexican food. But by this point I was itching to get on to Cape Town and find out what I would be doing for the next 3 months!!

Durban

2007-03-29T11:33:00.001-07:00

Mon 19th - Tues 20th March

After the traumatic but profound experience in the township, Victor showed us around Durban a bit. Because he was a black man, he could take us to places that white people never go - first stop was the witchdoctors market. This is a very African culture, a deepseated belief in the traditional medicines prescribed by witchdoctors for all kinds of ailments. The majority of Zulu people will come here for treatment rather than go to a hospital or western doctor. As you walk through the market you are assualted by so much - colours, smells, noises. There are different methods preferred by different witchdoctors, so in some shops you will see piles of different barks or woods chopped up - these medicines are administered by smoke. Others believe in the natural powers of animals, so there are various skins and bones on display, not to mention the odd dead lizard or starfish.

For the people who work on these stalls, it is their entire life. They literally live on the market, covering over the piles of ingrediants each night and pulling out mattresses and pillows that have been stacked up out of reach. And the entire is market is full of people doing exactly the same thing... but they still make very good money apparently. I guess could be an option when we get fed up with the NHS...

While I was in Durban there had been some huge winds and a freak alignment of the moon (or something) that had resulted in a MASSIVE swell and the biggest waves they had seen in 20 years. The whole of the beach front had been wiped out and the little cafes and shops washed away - put an end to my ideas of surfing lessons!!

It turns out that Home Backpackers is actually owned/run by Christians!! Wasn't expecting that, but it certainly had a different feel about it, something you can't quite put your finger on (hint: Jesus!). Victor invited me to a prayer meeting at his church on Tuesday evening, and he took me and introduced me to his friends. I met a girl called Tracy who's mum has just emmigrated to England - "Oh really, where abouts?" (because obviously I know every single town in England!) "Southsea" - "No way!!!!!!!!!!! I actually DO know that place!!" Crazy stuff. The prayer meeting was cool - it was an 'emergency' day of prayer and fasting for the security of the church members (apparently this is not uncommon in South Africa) and many of the people I met thought it was hilarious that my first experience of church here was praying for safety! I tried not to think too much about the implications of this...

I left Durban feeling very touched - not really sure how else to put it really! It stirred up in me lots of feelings about what I'm doing here, why God wants me in South Africa and possibilities for the future. All very exciting, in an terribly scary way!! Will have to keep praying about it lots, but thinking of coming back at the end of my trip to get involved in Soul In The City projects this summer.

Township Tales

2007-03-29T11:32:00.002-07:00

Sun 18th -Mon 19th March

I arrive in Durban and get dropped off at Home Backpacker's. It is indeed very homely, with sofas and a TV, although most people are out when I arrive. I am befriended by an Israeli Divemaster called Ud and an English couple who have been volunteering with GVI in Kenya, who allow me to share their meal seeing as I have yet to find a supermarket! Very lovely people, and we had a great laugh.

The next morning I have booked to go on a Township Tour through the hostel. I have mixed feelings about these, as they are offered all over the place and although I know the value of seeing places like that first hand, I can also see the potential for exploitation if the schemes are run insensitively. However, I had a better feeling about this one, and for lack of any other ideas I agreed to go. There were just 2 of us, and the tour was organised by a guy called Victor, orginally from Kenya and identifyable by a big laugh and even bigger dreadlocks.

He took us to Umlazi, which is the second biggest township in South Africa, after Sowetho. It ran on for miles and miles, as far as the eyes could see. He estimated that close to half the population of Durban lives there - the average family size being 16 children. The government gives money for each child under 13 years, so poor families keep on having babies. Big families live in small houses, often only one or two rooms, and it's not uncommon for fathers and uncles to sleep next to the daughters of the household. The biggest crime in the townships is indecent assult, and the perpertrators usually get away with it because they are the main breadwinners so the family does not want them to go to jail - how would they eat? Other crime is really quite low in the township areas, because everyone knows everyone else and so they would soon be caught if they tried anything in their neighbourhood. The diet is very poor - based mostly on potatoes and tomatoes and maize. Very starchy and often fried in oil, so obesity and health related problems are rife, which in turn means individuals are more susceptible to problems associated with AIDS.

One of the biggest problems is the lack of good jobs availble to these communities. We visited a family who were in a "richer" area (relatively speaking of course). They had been better off when the daughters were working and had been able to afford a permanent house and running water, a TV etc. Since then both the daughters have died from AIDS, leaving the aging grandmother to support the grandchildren on her pension. We spoke to her about her life and she said that in some ways things were getting better. I asked what she hoped for the future, and she said there was no hope for her grandchildren because there were no jobs for them - once they had finished school and the government stopped paying money for them, all they can do is stay around the township.

Next we moved on to the "poorer" area - the house we visited looked like someone had tried to set up home in a scrapyard. The walls were made from corrugated iron, rusting away in places and leaving great holes in the sides. The roof was supported by a huge tree branch, which had cracked under the weight and would need to be fixed soon or the whole house would collapse. There was a tatty, smelly sofa and an old iron bunkbed frame that was so bent out of shape it didn't look stable. A family of about 5 lived here, pushing aside what furniture they had each night and bedding down on the floor. It was hard to be welcomed into to this place to sit and look the lady in the eye, watching her prepare a meal of maize for her child, knowing all that I have at home. Yet I saw in her an optimism lacking in the previous house. A knowledge that she didn't have to settle for what she had, that she was worth more than this but that she was the only person she could rely upon to change things. She had saved up some of her child benefit and started buying small goods, like cooking oil and selling it on in her neighbourhood. This had expanded into selling on second hand clothes bought in Durban. She was doing what little she could.

A few hundred meters up the road, we passed what I first thought was a pile of scrap metal. No, said Victor, someone lives there - can you see his bed through the gap? I felt sick.

The Baz Bus

2007-03-29T11:32:00.001-07:00

Sun 18th March 2007

Sunday morning greets my jet lagged self rather early, as I am booked to catch a bus to Durban which leaves at about 8 in the morning. I reluctantly drag myself out of bed and shower, and pack my bag which appears to have erupted all my belongings despite the fact I have been at the hostel for less than 24 hrs.

The Baz Bus experience is an interesting one. It's a good idea - a bus that drives backpackers between the main cities, stopping of along the way at various hostels to unload/pick up whoever requires it. Having envisaged a coach-type affair, the Baz Bus goes against the current trend and is smaller than I expected, but as comfortable as you could wish for. I have bought a 7 day pass, which means I can go anywhere I want during that period, but seeing as I need to be in Cape Town by next weekend I don't have much time to faff around at lots of different stops. Joburg to Durban is a whole route, and so takes most of the day but once I get there I am staying for 3 nights.

As we leave Joburg, my fringe being blow dried by the draught from the open window, I feel like the adventure has really begun. South Africa here I come!! Ok, well maybe not, I am still quite sleepy... But travelling by bus is a great way to enjoy some of the scenery, and you come to appreciate what a diverse country it really is. Making our way down to the coast, the land becomes lush and green in contrast to the arid orange of Johannesburg. We pass through the Drakensburg mountains, an epic scenery reminiscent of the Lake District except the peaks are hidden in cloud. Eventually we get to Durban and I can see the sea! Wooooo-hoooo!! Beautiful.

Arrival

2007-03-29T11:31:00.000-07:00

Sat 17th March 2007

The flight continues quite comfortably. Due, I expect, to the season it is rather empty and I am lucky enough to have the whole row to myself. It is getting to the point in the journey when I should be trying to get some sleep, but instead I watch films pretty much continuously (don't you find that long haul flights are actually the only chance you get to watch certain films, as you would never choose to watch them at home but seeing as they are there and there's nothing better to do...?).

As we draw near to the final destination I start to get nervous, anticipating the forthcoming encounter as I would imagine one who has been set up with a stranger by a trusted friend - a blind date with an entire country! God has made it very clear to me through various things that He wants me to go to South Africa, a country that, to be honest, I have never had more than a passing interest in. The assurance that this meeting will be a significant one to my life is heavy in my mind, but beyond that all I have is a heartful of questions about how, what and why, underlined by a gentle bemusement that I find myself in such bizarre situations. I have been obedient and got this far... it is now time to get to know this new friend and find out why she will beecome so important to me - to explore the way she ticks, her ups and downs, her brilliance and beauty alongside her flaws and foibles.

The first encounter was not majorly impressive, although I choose to turn a blind eye to it seeing as it was obviously the airport and as we discussed earlier these are not the most reliable of places and it seems a little unfair to judge a country by the state of International Arrivals. Johannesburg was a itty bit of a nightmare - I think about 4 planes landed at once. At passport control I have an epiphany that the British are in fact THE ONLY ones who know how to queue properly (despite the fact that I was standing in the SA Nationals line for about 10 minutes!!). And whilst collecting my bags I remember just how irritating people can be when you are hot and tired.

Thankfully I was picked up by a guy from the hostel. During the 30 minute drive he imparted some interesting random facts about Joburg, including the places you really don't want to go. Apparently there are around 6 million trees in the city and they have all been handplanted there. Crazy. If you look closely however, you see that some trees are not all they seem - South African telecommunications companies have made the interesting decision to attempt to disguise their phone pylons as trees. You don't really have to look that closely, as said disguises are not tremendously convincing but it's the thought that counts, I guess? I notice that eveywhere is a lot bigger than I expected - roads are longer, stuff seems more spread out. It makes me laugh, because I always forget that Britain is really quite small when compared to most other countries in the world.

The hostel is small and quite when I arrive, thankful to have booked a private room for my first night. After a quick tour I head out to get some food and sleep most of the afternoon. Early start tomorrow!

Stopover

2007-03-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

In my experience, airports can be a mixed bag. The European ones I have been in tend to have been quite bland, whereas the Middle Eastern and Asian ones are usually much more towards the flamboyant end of the spectrum, and can be a full on assault of the senses. When they are quite, I find them almost relaxing. When they are busy, a total nightmare!

I was greeted at Dubai International airport at the beginning of a 3 1/2 hour stop, by a throng of jet-lagged fellow travellers, who seemed to be doing their utmost to get in my way. Not the most helpful when you find yourself pacing up and down an endless line of departure gates, trying to find a toilet not overrun by small children or cleaners. In my desperation to spend a penny and also find a modest spot to put my belt back on (which had had to be removed for the security scan and now left me feeling a bit half-dressed), I had also managed to miss the trolley stop, and my laptop bag was beginning to feel quite heavy. Finally I reached the loos on the other side, but it came as a sharp shock to find that, yes we are actually now in the land of squatty toilets. That always catches me out in the airport! Not quite ready to face tackling that one at the moment, I pray there is a western "seated" loo free. Thank-you Jesus! Rather over-sized and there's water all over the floor, but am I complaining? Not on your life!! Crikey, they flush automatically when you stand up! Nothing like being hurried along by a toilet, eh? Not sure quite how I feel about that one...

I rejoin the hustle in the main waiting area. The airport is huge, and on 3 levels. There are so many people everywhere, the atmosphere is fraught with the tension of travelling at night. I distract myself by inspecting the decor - as I mentioned previously, we have some interesting ideas...there are some crazy lights that look like they have been modelled on UFOs, and some rival designs that are like many small lights on curly wires bent out all over the place. The most ridiculous things has to be the small plantation of giant fake palm trees in the middle of the building. Not really sure what the point of that is... at all!! Mind you, I remember Abu Dhabi airport was like being in the middle of a giant ring donut... Making my way towards Duty Free, I ponder how I'm going to pass the time - still having approximately 2 1/2 hours to go. I'm still lugging my laptop - must get me one of those trolleys!! The endless displays of chocolate and perfume proves rather uninspiring however, even a MAC counter can't tempt me. I browse through some music CD's, rather surprised to find Travis in the "International" section until I remember we're in the UAE... ahem! I'm also particularly amused to find what must be the worlds last great stronghold of cassette tapes. My chuckles are short lived though, and the people around me are starting to really get on my nerves. So is the laptop. Where on earth do you get one of those blinkin' trolleys??!! Everyone else has them!!!!!

I decide on a Costa to calm frayed nerves and give me something to do other than wander aimlessly, although it has to be a take-away as the seating area is packed. I can't pay on my Maestro card, although they will take sterling cash (?!), so I order a hot milk with hazelnut syrup. I get 2 quid change from a fiver.Ermm....? This better be amazing! When it comes, I can't actually taste the syrup, but the guy serving was flirting with me so I smile sweetly and ask for some more. Now it tastes gross! I can't believe this cost 3 pounds. Lesson learnt.

The Big Pack

2007-03-16T00:32:00.000-07:00

I hate packing. I really do. For a traveller, it's what we biologists would term an "disadvantageous evolutionary trait" i.e. not very helpful when it comes to surviving the task ahead. In my experience packing is one of those awful prospects that mysteriously takes up the exact amount of spare time you have, leaving nothing for any other tasks you may desire to accomplish... if I have all day to pack, I WILL need all day to pack. Hence my previous tactic to cope was always to leave it until the last minute (housemates and teammates will testify to this on the Brazil trip last year).

In an effort to appear grown-up and organised, if only to my mother, I approached the situation from a different angle this time around. I have devised a new stage in preparing for a trip, called "pre-packing". This is basically a preparatory stage, where most of the major decisions are made about what you need, what you want and what you can in reality lift once your bag is packed. All clothes are spread out over parents large bed and anything potentially useful dumped on top of them, and then the whole is sifted through with a backpacker mentality. "Do I really need this?" is an essential question to be asked of each and every item. Mostly the answer is yes, so the process needs to be repeated a few times until desperation brings out my ruthless side. NO, NO, NO!!!

Once this is done, I can then enter into that most dreaded of times - packing. Please note that however much the pre-packing phase sounds like packing, there are subtle differences that must be maintained for my sanity. Otherwise that would mean I had spent ALL day packing, and I quite possibly couldn't cope!!!

God Camp

2006-09-10T11:33:00.000-07:00

Wow, I've been planing to write this entry for about 3 weeks now (what more evidence to you require of my rubbishness) so it might sound a little out of date for some but hey...!

Every summer young "cool" Christian teens flock to an agricultural showground in the wilds of Somerset, looking forward to a week or so of camping, smelly loos, loooooooong shower queues and, well, meeting with God. It must seem a rather strange habit to said "cool" teens non-evangelised friends, and however much I adore the ritual of a week under plastic, it is one of those things I think are truely WIERD about Christians.

I am of course talking about the joys of Soul Survivor. For those of you who don't understand this concept, there is really no better way to explain than to go yourself, and experience. Having felt that I'm getting a little old for the game over the past couple of years, I was delighted to attend a version of the conference aimed specifically at students and (wait for it...) twentysomethings (yay - my new label!!!) and despite the annual gamble with the weather not working in my favour this year (yes it rained, and YES the tent LEAKED!!) there was an amazing programme of speakers and seminars to challenge both the heart and the intellect.

I'm not sure if it was the choice of topics covered, the lay-it-down attitude of some speakers or the slightly more mature "congregation" of that conference but God seemed to be pretty challenging that week too, with everyone allowing more time and energy to leave space for Him to do stuff. Stuff was done indeed, but the remarkable thing that I want to share with you on this blog entry came on the last day (I will get to the point now).

The last meeting was almost entirely taken up by worship and "waiting on the Lord" - Mike P's talk was reduced to more of a chat, and everyone got quite sweaty jumping around lots. A bizarre thing began in one corner of the tent and moved gradually across the whole lot of us - uncontrollable giggling. Of course for some it was more blatant than others, and I imagine there were many who were laughing more at the ridiculousness of the situation than in the throes of the Spirit but nonetheless it was a very intense, surreal, and yet special experience to be part of. A word was given to explain what was going on - " The joy of the Lord is your strength", and it was suggested by the leadership that God was touching people with His joy to strengthen them for the situations they would be facing on their return home.

I wasn't found on the floor in uncontrollable mirth, it has to be said. But it was the interpretation of this move of the Spirit which touched me, and gave me an insight which has brought me much more joy than a few moments of unexplainable laughter could possibly have given. Since I went to uni, life has thrown what we may term a couple of "curve balls" and I have learnt much about God's power perfected in my weakness and the strength of God through the dark times. So much so that my perception of growth was that it only came out of times of trouble and suffering, and would be associated with the hardest times in my recent life.

Although I do believe life following Jesus is not about flowers and butterflies, my epiphany is this:- that God can, and whats more chooses to, strengthen you through joy and laughter and GOOD THINGS TOO!! How amazing is that?!

Brilliant.

I LOVE Film4!!

2006-08-14T04:56:00.000-07:00

The best timing in the world, was when they decided to make Film4 free. Absolute stunner of an idea, and coinciding precisiely with when I will be at home twiddling thumbs for a little while. GENUIS (poking forehead wildly with finger)!!!

Films are currently one of my top recreational activies, those that know me will testify that going to the cinema is often preferable to sitting in a pub or going for a meal (makes me sound very antisocial, doesn't it?) I think it the chance to escape into another reality for a while, to be completely absorbed in something that doesn't require me to actually do anything, or make any decisions, or be affected by me in any way. In the past year, due to the nature of my job, times such as these have been exceptionally rare, and I have come to tresure the prospect of locking myself up in someone else's world even if only for a couple of hours.

I fear however, that I may be turning into one of these "arty" types, as my taste in films is definitely taking a more indie turn of late. Still a bit of a way off geekdom, choices are certainly swerving off the mainstream sensibilities of my dear mother. World cinema has opened up a whole new level to me, starting from commercial crossovers like Crouching Tiger (which I only watched a couple of months ago - muppet that I am!) and Spirited Away, now I love to explore a bit deeper into films that "mean" something (groan - listen to yourself, woman!!). My changed reaction to Lost In Translation is probably a good indicator - when I first watched it in the cinema I left feeling a bit let down, and confused, and not really getting it at all. A more recent viewing (on the aforementioned and much loved Film4) I felt like I had watched a different film!

Hence I am loving the Studio Gihbli season running at the moment - every day there is a new Anime film on, and while listening to a foreign language film while reading subtitles used to put me off (too much like hard work!) I now don't really notice it. The fascinating thing I find, is that the rules they use to tell fairy stories with are so different to what we are used to in western society - there are often times I find my self truly confused, albeit momentarily, by the recent turn of events. I feel everyone should give these films a fair go. Plus the animation is actually really amazing, and while Hollywood seems to have been taken over by Pixar-stylee digital films, the old skool cartoon-esque still holds some magic for me.

I love films because they can transport you , they can educate you, they can challenge you, they can lift you. Also I still love the blatant cheesy rom com rubbish found in the multiplex (arthouse diehards groan!) and I don't thing you'll ever wean me off it. There's always a place for a film with a fit guy... hehe ;)

Graduate Fever

2006-08-12T06:33:00.000-07:00

It must be a condition that all who have had to return home from spending 3/4 years away at uni can sympathise with, especially those who have thrown themselves into life in this other locality to such an extent that "home" now is the place you go when you need a holiday! To then find yourself firmly back where you started out from all that time ago is about a rude a shock as any life might throw - not entirely traumatic at first (in fact I am loving spending some time with my parents and have missed home a lot) but it slowly begins to dawn that you have to start building a life now, however temporary it may be.

For me, life has a very clear pre-uni, post-uni divide. By that I mean that the life I had before venturing to the wilds of Surrey has not had much to do with the Egham based agenda of the past 4 years (apart from the Roseblade anomoly, which I am still trying to work out!). Mostly that means I haven't kept up with old friends, and while that is probably more a fact of life than any failing on my part, it has made the move back home harder. Having been used to being surrounded with more friends than I could shake a stick at, I now find myself at best with people I need to "catch up with", usually the best part of 4 years!

This was exemplified by Emma's wedding last weekend. Even though I knew that at the meal I would be sitting at a table with people I knew and most definitely wanted to catch up with, the fact remained that until then most of the people I did know were involved with official roles, such as bride, bridesmaid, photographer etc, and I had to turn up at the service firmly on my own. I knew I would be silly to worry unduly about this, and so gave myself a talking to before striking up conversation with the couple I had sat next to. They turned out to be the groom's aunt and uncle and it seemed they knew less people than I did, which was a slight comfort. The most amusing thing happened, when just as I had finished explaining how and why, I really didn't know anyone, I spotted out of the corner of my eye a very familiar face indeed. "Well, I think I know that person but I've not got a clue why he would be here at all!" Surprise of the day was my oldest friend Will turning up, cos his new(ish) girlfriend is friends with Emma - I havn't seen Will for a long time, and although I have known him most of my life we keep our link more through a family friendship than any individual effort. So it was a great surprise to see him, meet Toni and have a bit of a chat, the first of many "catch-ups" that day.

Anyway, my point is that most of the people I knew that day I have had relatively little contact with since I disappeared off to RHUL, and it left a quite surreal cloud surrounding the whole idea of the past few years. Worries of having no-one to talk to gone, the conversations I did have left me feeling almost as if uni was this huge dream that I had just woken up from. More like a coma than a dream, as everyone else has moved on with their life too! It was a similar story when I went back to my old church last Sunday.

Somewhere in the meeting of two old friends lies a fairly awkward space, where you are forced to evaluate whether you are still friends in the same way or if too much time has passed. Sometimes you can let it go without too much worry, and remembering the good times move on to what comes next but sometimes it is too hard to do that, and so you go on pretending that you are both still happy in the friendship as it was. It is sad to look upon an old, trusted face and realise that you no longer really know that person. With some you can fear it coming, but other people just surprise you.

But I guess, as so many have observed, that is just life.

On a lighter note, who did the cake?! It was amazing... (hehe!)

Sorry, I couldn't help myself...!

2006-08-12T06:23:00.000-07:00

Ta-dah!!!!!

2006-08-03T11:03:00.001-07:00

Wow, I must be bored. I actually created my own blogspot.

I am actually rubbish at blogging, so goodness knows when this will ever get updated, but since everyone has forsaken Bebo for the evils of Facebook ( just bitter cos it won't let me join), I figure this might be a fun way to keep in touch.

Why do I need to keep in touch? Well as of Monday 31st July 2006 I am officially no longer a resident of glorious Egham and this heralds the end of a golden age of studentdom at the Royal Land of Holloway (we'll forget that for the last year I wasn't actually a student). I am now back in Portsmouth (sorry can't get enthusiastic about that yet) and have the sum total of one friend in my immediate vicinity. When Laura gets back from Holiday Club that will double... ho hum, the joys of being a poor unemployed graduate.

But don't feel too sorry for me - I am fully intending on being somewhere exciting in the next 6 months, although exactly where still eludes me. I have plenty of options, could be Australia DTS-ing, maybe somewhere in Asia SCUBA-ing but I'm still plumping for South Africa and the film-making... will keep you posted!

In the mean time I am busying myself with driving lessons, wedding cakes and hanging out wiv ma biyatches (2 doggy-wogs, Domino and Cantik) and planning to traverse the length and bredth of our great nation in search of some kind of social life - why do friends have to live so far away?!!