Everybody limbo!

The music is playing and voices around me are all cheering: "Go go go! You can do it! LIMBOOOO!" So I approach the bar, bend ever so carefully and proceed to inch forward only to discover that I'm directly under the bar and can't move. Metaphorically speaking, this is how I feel after returning from Cape Town. I'm stuck in between two places - behind me is South Africa and in front of me is the USA and I'm unable to move forward or backward. Welcome to "Limbo" a feeling that has been described to me by past students as "a feeling of not knowing where you belong. You've left South Africa and it's great to see family and friends back Home but a part of you hasn't arrived to the USA yet." And that's exactly how I'm feeling. Exactly a week ago today I arrived back on US soil. In fact, this time last week I was sitting in Lou Malnati's pizzeria savoring some missed deep dish pizza while talking a million miles an hour about my experiences with my parents. I can't believe it's already been a week...the first few days were a real struggle, especially the grocery store. Went to Meijer to pick some stuff up for my Mom - talk about struggle fest. I was totally overwhelmed. It's silly because you don't think about these things until you've been in a place where a grocery store was a legit grocery store where you can only buy food and it takes 20 min max to shop. An hour later my sister and I leave the store, tears welling up in my eyes. How I wished to be back in Obz...


It's not so much the places but the people who I miss the most. My K-House Family, Northwestern group (who lived down the street from us), my Capeoira (Brazilian martial arts) group, UWC friends, Tembaletu, Pearnel, Melikaya, Theresa, Buli, and local friends...for my visual diary I made a scrapbook of all the people who've influenced my experience in South Africa. I counted and there were over 60. No wonder there's a physical ache in my chest for the relationships and experiences I've left behind...don't get me wrong, I truly am happy to see my parents, sister, dog and friends but I have to be honest that a part of me is still overseas, especially my heart. 


It's pathetic, really. I'm sitting here in the middle of my room, floor scattered with odds and ends from my still unpacked suitcase and much like my floor, I'm a mess. How can such an incredible experience produce such pain? Such a shame...

Just to give you an idea...

On a positive note, as much as I miss everyone and everything about South Africa, I know that my experience was a true once-in-a-lifetime adventure and even if I were to hop on plane tomorrow and go back, it wouldn't be the same. And it never could. So, I have a choice. I can look back and long to relive the past at the expense of missing out on the present. Or I can look back with fondness, appreciate that I had such an opportunity and take what I've learned to move forward in order to have new experiences. I think the latter one sounds better. It's like my Dad told me: "You could go back now to continue what you were doing and help a small portion of people. But in order to help more people, which I know is what you want, you need to finish you education." Dang, Dad. I hate it when you're right...Then there's my Mom: "Sad experiences are an unfortunate part of life but only from pain can we grow. Without it we experience no change." I've decided that my parents are too wise for my own good sometimes, which is exactly why I love them. 


So, even though this a painful time for me, I know in the end it will produce growth. I will discover new strengths and weaknesses and realize lessons I have learned that I hadn't thought about. It's a grieving process that will be slow and painful but ultimately will produce perseverance and a new perspective on life. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy. But I have faith that with the help of God, my family and friends this is only the end of one chapter and the beginning to another. 


He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Revelation 21:4


Changingly yours,


Janelle

ABC's of Passion for Learning

Words cannot begin to express my deepest apologies for not updating this like I promised. I have been swamped with last minute projects and just trying to soak everything in before leaving, which is scarily in less than two weeks (12 days...). Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked to come home and see all of you - my family and friends - but leaving the friendships I've made and experiences I've had is going to be absolute torture. Plus, whenever I've thought about blogging I've either been extremely busy or not in the "blogging mood" and would rather wait for a quality blog than quantity. But more on that later. Tomorrow is my last day at Tembaletu and today we gave a presentation during Monday Morning Assembly. Dan and I made 20 dozen sugar cookies as well as a slide show for the school to show our appreciation. Both were a hit. 


I got back from Poetry Nite (a small gathering of incredible people at a local restaurant that come together and appreciate/read poetry every Monday from 8-10) a little while ago and still have tons to do before tomorrow. But I wanted to share with you a poem I came up with that I read tonight and I hope you all enjoy:


A, B, C...E
I...Q...J?...T
T.
T....
Her eyes dart wildly back and forth
Her tongue unsure of what to say
From peer to peer her gaze begs for help
And then she turns my way


The third learner to struggle, to stumble,
To be stranded of all speech
Overwhelming was her potential
And all within her reach


Three months ago we locked eyes
And I knew what I had to do
Now, she stands before the class
Showing off what she knew


It's miraculous the power 
Of a simple little song
To ignite the passion of learning
Inspiring all to sing along


"Miss Janelle! Miss Janelle!"
Every morning is greeted anew
"ABC's please please please!"
And I knew just what I had to do


"A b c d e f g
H i j k lmnop
Q r s
T u v
W x
Y & Z
Now I know my ABC's
Next time won't you sing with me?"


The room explodes with sound
Of not thirty but one voice
And though imperfect the pitch, the rhythm, and even some letters
They had the courage to make the choice


The choice to listen to this white girl
Who'd never left her country until five months ago
And laugh as she stumbles over her Xhosa
And teach her all that she needed to know


About the masquerade of poverty
And the face of disease
That grasps the lives of these children 
And how a smile could wipe away the wrath of these demons, with ease


Yes, a smile, a simple smile
Was all it took to break their mundane routine
Of struggle to fight the judgment, pain and disadvantage
Of their disabilities


So smiles we shared
No words need be explained
The beauty of a disabled child
Smiling through her pain


I am not a teacher
Simply a learner who longs to learn
And has been forever touched
By the hearts of her learners whose hearts of passion burn.

Their hearts are like an oven; they approach him with intrigue. Their passion smolders all night; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire.
Hosea 7:6


Passionately yours,


Janelle

So you think you can dance?

Hands fly up all around me – some open, fingers reaching for the sky while others are cupped in reverence and kept close to the body. I look to my right to see a 6’ 4” black man with both hands high and outstretched, a smile beaming across his face. Behind me a generation boundary is evaporated as a Grandmother gently sways back and forth, 8 month Granddaughter in her arms. Across the way a middle-aged white woman catches my eyes and moves my heart as she kneels on the carpet, head and arms up, spirit alive. Welcome to Sunday morning Church. More specifically, 9:30 Sunday morning service at Jubilee Community Church. Although I haven’t updated this in far far FAR too long, which I deeply apologize for, I have been having a culturally rich experience beyond imagination this past month, most recently starting yesterday morning. Admittedly, it has been awhile since I’ve been to church and yesterday was a wonderful reminder of how blessed I truly am.

I desperately want to elaborate more on my experience but currently I am strapped for time with a large assignment. Therefore, I will update again as soon as possible (and sooner than 1 month, I promise). Until then, God Bless.

(to be continued…)

No shirt, no shoes…no problem?

The gravel stung the bottom of my soles as I walked with Molly to Cha Chi’s, a local coffee shop, to work on my papers. Although it was only a 5 minute walk, my feet reminded me of their dissatisfaction with every step until we reached the entrance. And then it hit me. “Oh snap! I’m about to go into a restaurant and I’m not wearing shoes. I don’t want to have to turn around. Man…” Much to my surprise, the waitress looked at me and smiled as she showed me and Molly to our table. “Wow. I wonder if she saw my feet…” I shrugged it off and went about my work. Then, when I walked out to the bathroom I passed another waitress who also greeted me with a smile before and after looking directly at my feet. That’s when it hit me. Of course they wouldn’t not serve someone if they didn’t have shoes because they possibly can’t afford them. That and it’s just socially acceptable to walk around without shoes. In America one assumes that if you don’t have shoes you shouldn’t be eating out at a restaurant in the first place but here they don’t discriminate. Before I delve any deeper into thought I should explain why I wasn’t wearing shoes in the first place for all of those that are thinking, “But…but…no shoes? What???”

Two weeks ago the 5^th of April was One Day without Shoes, an international awareness effort by TOMS shoes to promote awareness about children without shoes. In many developing countries children don’t have shoes and have to walk far distances to school, medical centers and even to fetch water. Children that walk on volcanic soil can contract a nasty foot disease, Podoconiosis, that’s 100% preventable with shoes. If you want more info click on the link above :)

So, that day I went without shoes. I did it on campus last year at Marquette and it was a very freeing yet grounding experience. Freeing in the sense that it allowed me to experience what some kids have to endure every day and at the same time it made me extremely grateful for my many blessings, including shoes. This year I found walking around Africa without shoes quite humbling. I experienced a day without shoes in order to help me understand a life without shoes…and with each new step onto the graveled road, I hope I can.


Your word is a light to my feet and light to my path.
Pslam 105:119


Callously yours,
Janelle

Disabled bodies but not disabled minds

Upon returning from an incredible 10 day road trip along the coast of South Africa, I realized that not only have I not updated in awhile but I have mentioned very little about my service site that I spend 2 days a week at. In short, I am a teaching assistant at Tembaletu, a school for kids with physical disabilities. I work in a grade 4 classroom with 30 kids of which only 5 speak English and the rest in their mother tongue, Xhosa (1 of SA's 11 official language - the "X" is pronounced with a click but can also be said as a "K" sound, e.g. Kosa). This is in an important detail because my third day there neither of the 2 grade 4 teachers showed up so I had to entertain the class for a full day. But that's for another entry :) Rather than me telling you about Tembaletu I will attempt at illustrating my first day experience...Oh and just a heads up, Dan is one of my housemates that also works at Tembaletu and Pearnel is our awesome driver and second father :)

Day 1 - 7 February 2011

To say that I am overwhelmed with emotion would be an understatement: fear, nerves, excitement, confusion, wonder, appreciation, passion, uncertainty. It's only 9:30 and I already have seen more than I could have imagined. Dan and I were dropped off at 7:45, found the principal, and then taken to what will be regular Monday assemblies. We waited as the kids and teachers filed in. And that's when I was reminded. Reminded of how precious a child is, especially one who is physically disabled but mentally determined. They came in waves. some with walking-arm crutches, others with a tilted walk and still others helping those in wheelchairs. Soon the room was filled with bodies of young ones. Visually they struggled to move but you could see it in their eyes that they were just as normal as any other child. Their independence when walking begged for acceptance as "normal." Then the most incredible thing happened. Without warning the room echoed with the voices of what seemed like a thousand children. I had absolutely no idea what they were saying or what their words meant. But it didn't matter.

To some, the jumbled sounds and syllables could have easily been tuned out but not for me. What I heard was not just a mess of words but one voice. A voice of hope, passion and determination. My mind drifted to yesterday's church service at Jubilee where the minister said after a Xhosa song, "It's not about getting the words right but rather about the passion behind your sound." And that's what I heard in that room: passion. Not all of them could sing because their body disabled them to but that didn't stop them from trying. The sight of 300 physically disabled but mentally determined kids almost brought me to tears. A fiery passion stirred within me to fight whomever dared to call these kids anything but "normal." They may not be able to throw a baseball in a straight line but put them in a choir and their passion could outdo any athlete. 

Joy emanated from all of their faces as they sang songs in their native tongue. It is my goal to be able to sing along with them by the time I'm done here. After the songs ended there was a brief demonstration on recycling and how recycled items can be used to make other materials. This humbled me because I was reminded what kind of environment these kids lived in. Of course recycling isn't a priority or even an option when your family struggles to get fresh food and water everyday. The townships came alive this morning as we drove through them. Poverty was walking around before my eyes as Pearnel weaved in and out of the narrow roads. As much as I would love to live here one day I don't know if I could ever A) get used to driving on the left side or B) having such a narrow space to manuvere such a large van. Dan asked him if there was any running water in the townships to which his response of "no" surprised me. What I so easily take for granted...

...and that was my morning experience, which almost 2 months later I still cannot put into words. As of now I assist in teaching English (taught them the ABC song last week) and working on Life Orientation projects. I started a "Who am I?" project idea that I had borrowed from a friend where the kids cut out pictures from magazines that they think resembles them and then put all the pictures into a collage. It took a few attempts to explain the concept and some translating from the teachers but in the end every kid had a pair of scissors in one hand, a glue stick in the other and a smile on their face. In an environment where they are mostly lectured to all day with very little group work interaction, I could tell they welcomed the break of the usual classroom routine. I don't know if all of them totally understood what I was trying to convey but it didn't matter. Their joy was satisfying enough for me, especially this one girl, Lisa*. She's about 15 (the ages in grade 4 range from 10-15), in a wheel chair, is paralyzed in her legs and right arm in addition to having a condition where she can't keep her head up without it being elastically banded to her chair. Oh and she's non-verbal too. Needless to say she has a difficult time, especially since she has been placed in the back of the classroom where she is easily neglected and ignored. So, when all the other kids were cutting and pasting I went over and had her point to which pictures she wanted me to point out. Words cannot convey how heart-warming and rewarding it was to see her become giddy and smiley as I cut out pictures that she liked. Again, I'm not sure if she fully understood what was going on because sometimes she'd point to an entire page of pictures but I didn't care. I could feel the tears welling up as the bell rang to go to lunch.

The kids in Monday morning assembly

Me and some of the kids at their Sports Day (to be blogged about later)

Needless to say, I have slowly fallen in love with these kids each day I'm there. And the more fond of them I become the more upsetting it is to realize how tilted the education system is towards disabled children. Here are some of the problems I have witnessed:

• the learners (which is what they call them instead of students) do not have individual learning plans (ILPs) because there is no way to sit down one-on-one to create such a plan with 30 other students in a class. Because of this problem, there is such a range of ability with usually only a handful (3-5) of learners are actually capable of doing the work the grade demands while the majority is left in the dark
• Thus, come the end of the year they are "pushed" into the next grade, even though they can barely do the work of their current grade. They are "pushed" because of their age and what's expected of that "age" is to progress
• Therefore each year teachers receive unprepared learns for the new grade and are required to give an assessment in February on that level (keep in mind the school year is all year round and starts in January). For example, these grade 4 learners recently finished grade 3 work in December but since they are now "in grade 4" they are expected to do grade 4 work on the assessment! The learners struggle to do the assessment and Tembaletu never receives the results of how the individual students scored except hearing through the media "such and such a school is doing poorly because not meeting their marks" which is totally unfair. The school image is reflected poorly and doesn't get the funding it needs to fix the initial issue (which is making time to create ILPs). If they must do an assessment in February, I believe they should do one in December as well to truly assess the progress of the learners and school and identify gaps in the system.
• to top things off, the mainstream schools get grade 3 packets to prepare the grade 4 assessment but not here at Tembaletu. Thus the system is setting up the school for failure. Also, if Tembaletu identifies a learner with a mental disability and recommends that learner to Nompumolelu (school for mentally disabled children) the parents can refuse the recommendation and therefore the kids stay here and do nothing which adds to the problem of poor test results in addition to the child getting left in the dark.
• Some kids get dropped off here as early as 4:30 am and don't get home until 18:00 therefore only having a short time at home and struggle to stay awake at school during the day. 

In spite of such unfortunate situations, there is hope that blossomed from my last bullet point. In brief, Hillsong Church has become a global activist and is working with Tembaletu to build accommodation for these learners that need it. Please check out the powerful video at the following link: Tembaletu Project.

Hopefully now you have a better idea and a little taste of my experiences at Tembaletu. While many of the challenges are deeply rooted in the system and some days are more of a struggle than others, I am determined to make a difference in any way I can. I'm not looking to save the world but rather spread joy and compassion one child and one smile at a time. 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope

Jeremiah 29:11

Compassionately yours,

Janelle

*name changed to protect her identity

Indescribable peace

In a world full of hustle and bustle how often do we take time for ourselves? Time to reflect, to pray, to just be. For me, those moments are few and far between. Whether it's classes, service, being with friends, going out, work, studying, clubs/activities or time with family I am always busy. 24/7. This past weekend was different; sitting in an open field surrounded by mountains while a gentle, warm breeze caressed my skin, I was reminded of what it means to be silent. Needless to say, I've been running (both literally and figuratively) at full speed with very little time to be truly alone. This is not to say that I don't enjoy living with my housemates because quite the opposite is true: they're all awesome and I couldn't be happier. It's just not being able to go anywhere by myself for 6 weeks straight was a challenge that made me realize how fortunate I am to have independence back home in the States.

A little bit more about the weekend, my housemates and I went on a retreat to Volmoed (pronounced "full mut," meaning "full of courage") to meet with John W. De Gruchy, the author of a book we had to read, Reconciliation: Restoring Justice. Between arriving Friday evening and returning Sunday afternoon, John met with us 3 times to discuss different parts of his book, my favorite aspect being Christian Humanism (which actually isn't part of the book but it's his own personal belief). Put simply, at the heart of Christian Humanism is treating each other as human beings rather than labeling everyone according to their religion, denomination, or belief. I was attracted to this idea because it values a person as a whole and keeps an open perspective. It's definitely something I'm interested in researching further. 

The view of Volmoed from on top of the mountain on Saturday 

My favorite part of the weekend, however, was sleeping in an open field under a true galaxy of stars, during which I saw 8 shooting stars, woke up to roosters crowing and and then hiked a mountain at 5:30 am to watch the sunrise on both Saturday and Sunday. There are absolutely no words to justly describe the beauty I witnessed. Oh, and I got to swim in a waterfall too, which was pretty cool :D

Sitting on top of the mountain, on the edge of a rock that overlooked all of Volmoed (don't worry Mama, I didn't fall off) I realized how truly blessed I am: to be here in this moment, to experience South Africa through this remarkable program, to share my adventures with 19 wonderful people whom I have the joy of living with, to have an unbelievably loving family back home, a fabulous support group of friends and family, the Chick Evans Scholarship that allows me to be at Marquette, and a fulfilling faith and relationship with God. I am completely at peace and I pray that I may sustain that mindset throughout my time in South Africa and transfer it back home.

Sunday sunrise view

If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.

Romans 12:18

Peacefully yours,

Janelle

No need for words...

Me and Stacey

A toothless smile, outstretched hands, no hesitation, no fear. Our eyes met and a connection sparked to life. Hope emanated from within her and her eyes begged me for only one thing: love. We stood hand in hand, swaying back and forth as the music of the Lord filled the room, though the voices that echoed around me were but a muffled melody amidst my own thoughts and words of the Holy Spirit: “Look at her. She is my child just as you are. This is love. Love that is innocent, courageous, joyous, zealous, simple, embracing, pure, captivating, vivacious, warm, hopeful. This. Is. Love.”

           

Seeing her surfaced another reason why I am here. This feeling of reassurance that I am meant to be here, whose origin I cannot describe, enveloped me in a warm embrace as her laughter filled my ears. Simultaneously, tears filled my eyes as my heart was overwhelmed with both joy and sorrow. How long had it been since I had been completely detached from myself and consumed by such pure love? Too long. Far too long. But by the power of God’s grace and mercy, that changed today.

Although our encounter lasted less than an hour, the little girl that I met at a church service this morning made a timeless impact towards my perspective on love, purpose, and life. The church service was in association with Place of Hope, which is Hannah’s (one of my 19 awesome housemates) service site. In short, Place of Hope is designed to empower women and their children in crisis to get back on their feet and move forward.

Today was my first time going there and needless to say, it will not be my last.

Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. 

1 John 3:18

Lovingly yours,

Janelle
 

A week of tourism...and then some

Wow, 12 days since my last update...whoops! :/ While I haven't been updating on here, I've definitely been journaling my thoughts and just haven't had the time to type everything up. So here's a little shpeal to get things going: 


Okay so the first week we were here felt like we had done a month's worth of tourism stuff jammed into 1 week. Here's a taste of Day 1 through Day 8:

-          Sunday – exploring, went for a run, pizza with group (the pizza was surprisingly good), train ride to the BEACH, out to dinner/Stones 

-          Monday - visited some people's service sights (got to see mine!), went for a run, café garnish with group and Melikaya and his wife

-          Tuesday – Signal Hill, more service sites, run, stayed in at night to hang pictures of friends and family on my wall and paint nails

-          Wednesday – UWC orientation/registration (9 am - 5 pm), traditional food at awesome authentic African restaurant (see previous entry for my "food for thought" haha sooo punny!)

-          Thursday – District 6 museum, Slave lodge museum, photographs exhibit, fruit and veg market, waterfront (went on HUGE ferris wheel!), run/walk up part of mountain

-          Friday – Parliament, UWC to find classes, lay outside, yoga, Long Street - 1 bar and 1 clubby bar

-          Saturday – free day! old biscuit mill market, horse races, laundry 

-          Sunday – robben island, train, nap, run up part of mountain without stopping (wicked steep), house meeting

...phew! It may not seem like that much but combine that with an 8 hour time change and major jetlag and you've got quite the schedule. But I'm not here to give you a play-by-play of my day(s). No, I'm here to offer my thoughts and reflections on my experiences. That said, week 1 was super busy but totally awesome. Week 2 I started classes, which I am taking 4 of them: Theology of Forgiveness, Leaders in Grassroots Organizations (both required Marquette courses), Topics in Film (counts as my English literature credit and I get to watch Shakespeare movies for homework - love!) and finally Social Problems and Development (Honours level course through UWC's Institute of Social Development). Theology is awesome so far because it's designed to be a reflective course on our experiences here in Africa, Grassroots is very interesting because I know very little about social development and how these things work, English seems pretty laid back and won't be too difficult, and finally Social Problems is challenging because it's more of a work load than I expected (3 page papers every week) but I am definitely going to learn a lot. Oh well :)

Also in week 2 my housemates and I had a traditional "braai" which is an Afrikaans term that is synonymous to an American BBQ or cookout. We all prepared an American dish, invited South African friends, and it turned out to be really awesome. We even had a hula hoop contest in our backyard - totally sweeeet! And then there's week 3...A LOT has happened this past week and because of that I will be blogging about it separately (cliff hanger!). On that note, it's 12:30 AM and I have to get up in 6 hours to go to my service site so off to bed for now.

Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall

Isaiah 40:30

Sleepily yours,

Janelle

Patience is a virtue

If you want the perfect place to people watch, the horse races are where it's at. Saturday Caitlin, Vicky, Sarah, and I went to the J&B Met "Larger than Life" horse race event. As per the advertisement "the J&B Met is all about glamour, networking, fashion, sophistication, and 'partying' with friends." We saw some of the craziest dresses and outfits EVER. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The day started off with a walk to the "Old Biscuit Mill" market where I found some awesome produce/fresh foods and browsed the many different clothing shops for a few hours. Despite the massive crowd and surplus of bodies moving about (it's only open Saturday mornings so a large crowd is to be expected), I was enthralled with the atmosphere. All the food was completely natural and the samples were simply scrumptious! To top it off, I found the chair I want to have on my porch when I'm old and retired (featured on the left); super comfy and just my size :)

Later in the afternoon the girls and I dolled up (which I discovered is a very relative term) and were off to the races! Well, at least we thought we were until we arrived and realized that Vicky and I didn't have our IDs, which I didn't know we needed. FAIL. Although paying for and finding a taxi back was a pain, it turned out for the best because we got to pick up Sarah and we found Tony, a really nice taxi driver. Right, so the races…I’ve basically decided that if I ever get rich and bored with my money (after I solve world hunger and establish world peace, of course) I’m going to buy the most ridiculous looking dress and go to the races for some fun. I have never seen so many exotic dresses or attire in my life! It was definitely the equivalent of prom on steroids. Just saying. 

The next day we ventured out to Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years out of his total 27 years behind bars. Talk about a reality check. We boarded a large ferry that took us over to the island and as I gazed out the window at the vast ocean I tried to envision how Winnie (Mandela’s 2^nd wife) felt when making this same trip over to visit her husband over 40 years ago. The prisoners were described as “wild animals” to the prison wards and were treated as such. As a result, prisoners only got 1 visitor every 6 months for 30 minutes. It must have been a bittersweet feeling for Winnie; sweet and full of excitement because she was about to see her husband but also bitter in knowing that in less than 1 hour she would be back on the ferry until another 6 months had passed. Even upon arrival visitors were not allowed to make physical contact with the prisoners. Rather, the prisoner and visitor were separated by a glass shield and could only communicate by a phone system, which was tapped into by a prison ward to ensure no political issues were discussed. Winnie could see her husband’s face, hear his voice, and put her hand up to the glass but could touch him. Now for some people this may not appear as such a big deal but think about it: this is your life partner. The one whom you vowed to share everything with, to take care of until the day you die, to be there in sickness and in health, everything. And yet there was nothing Winnie could do to help her husband. “Look but don’t touch.” How torturous! In the midst of my imagination, the ferry slowed and we arrived on the island. Even after my mental imagery I just engaged in, I was not prepared for what I was about to see.

I learned that there is not only 1 but 4 prisons on Robben Island: 2 of which I cannot remember the name of (Google is failing me right now), 1 is the infamous maximum security prison where Mandela was held and the final one was that of Mangi Sabuki (definitely butchered the spelling). I unfortunately don’t recall much of his significance or why he was imprisoned but hris importance for me was to see the 2 small rooms he lived in for many years before he became mentally ill and passed away supposedly of cancer. For the purposes of the museum only a few of his belongings were displayed but it still cemented the idea of “living simply” and desire to “simply live.” To imagine my life stripped of all my material items and personal relationships is virtually impossible. Sabuki only had a pen and paper to communicate with the outside world and the occasional viewing of the prisoners from the maximum security prison as they walked to the limestone grounds. I can’t comprehend that kind of living because it’s barely living at all.

We moved along to a few other sites, including the amazing view of Table Mountain and Cape Town from the shore, until we finally arrived at the Maximum Security Prison where we were given a tour by an ex-prisoner. As we walked through the rooms and hallways I realized that I was walking though history, and history that happened less than 20 years ago. History that happened in my lifetime. I learned that three words spoken by Mandela saved this country from a bloody civil war: “Tolerance, reconciliation, and hope.” If that wasn’t enough of a reality check, seeing the conditions these prisoners endured and then standing in that same structure only 17 years after South Africa’s first democratic election definitely was.

But what really blew me away was seeing Mandela’s actual prison cell. Earlier in the tour we had been shown the dog kennels where the prison ward’s kept the dogs and to my unfortunate surprise Mandela’s cell was smaller than one of those dog kennels. These prisoners really had been treated as “wild animals” and I could not (and still cannot) believe that Mandela lived in such a tiny space for 18 years in order to establish freedom for himself and all the people of South Africa…wow.

To say that I desire the patience of Mandela is an understatement. I will be the first to admit that if things do not go according to plan or there is a lot of waiting involved I do not always have the best reactions, such as frustration, anger, and annoyance. A recent example was yesterday when I was highly irritated and fed up with UWC’s lengthy registration process and having to re-arrange my schedule for the 3rd time. Yet after seeing the conditions Mandela experienced I am ashamed of myself. Eleven days into this trip I have realized that I am privileged in variety of ways that I was unaware of, and because of that I will strive to embrace struggles with acceptance rather than shoving them away with frustration.

A hot-tempered man stirs up dissension, but a patient man calms a quarrel.

Proverbs 15:18

Patiently yours,

Janelle

Oh to be young agin...

Remember when you were a kid and on the weekends all you had to do was wake up and the biggest decision you faced was whether to play basketball or video games? Yea those were the good ‘ol days and thanks to Pearnel, our awesome driver who takes us everywhere, I was reminded of such good memories. Ironically, this joy was not discovered on the beach or in the car but rather in an environment where struggle and oppression are its foundation: District 6 museum. Here you will find artifacts, documents, pictures and appliances that symbolize the lives of colored and black people during the years of apartheid. In short, District 6 was a very lively and friendly black and colored community and during apartheid people were forced out of their homes and relocated in order to make room for more white people as well as allow the government to make money off of the land. Pearnel was 7 years old when he and his family were forced out of their home and left everything behind; his friends, his neighbored, his life as he knew it.

Watching him explain how he and his siblings used to cut up newspaper to make a table runner for the kitchen cabinet or showing us how his family used an old fashioned stove pot hit me hard; although I’ve only known this man for only a week now, I saw more passion in his stories and expressions than I have from people I have known for years. Not only was he alive during such a dark time for this country but he experienced it. He, and everyone like him, was oppressed and yet here he was, sharing inspiring stories with a bunch of white kids with no sign of hostility or resentment. My favorite part was watching him demonstrate what games he used to play as a child and trust me, there was nothing like a gameboy or television available. Rocks, sticks, bricks and chalk were a child’s best friend. It made me realize how “needy” I am at 21 years old. I find myself saying I need the internet, I need to bring my camera everywhere, I need to do this or that when in truth I don’t “need” any of that. Back then, all I actually needed was an open mind, a joyful spirit, a willingness to fall down and learn from my mistakes, God's mercy and grace, and a yearning to love. Fourteen years later, that’s still all I need. 

This is what the LORD has commanded: ‘Everyone is to gather as much as they need. Take an omer for each person you have in your tent.And when they measured it by the omer, the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.

Exodus 16:16-18

Simply yours,

Janelle

Mmmm mmmm tasty...

Over the past 2 days my taste buds have been on quite the exotic roller coaster. I have eaten and/or tried: Springbok, Lamb ‘n Ostrich burger, Minced lamb, Pap ‘n Veg, Kudo, Ox Tail, butternut squash, and last but not least…tripe. Google that last one and you’ll be surprised – I know I was when our program director told us to take just one bite of it but refused to tell us what it was until after we did so. I understand why. Although it was all cooked very well and full of exotic spices, I wasn’t exactly nuts about the meats. Most people liked the ox tail, which is like  sweetened and spicy pot roast but it wasn’t really my thing. If anything I enjoyed ostrich the most. Who knew?

Needless to say, dinner was great, and was definitely a welcomed activity after having to sit through UWC’s (University of Western Cape) international student orientation from 9 am to 2:30 and then wait in line to register (old-school style – yup, no online registration…grrr) till 6 pm. While it was definitely frustrating trying to get signed up for classes working with a restricted schedule (we have to have 2 full days open for service learning and our MU classes are on Fridays so we have limited choices as to what we can take), it wasn’t all that bad and if this is the most frustrating thing I experience then it’s going to be a breeze.

Another activity that made the day better was putting up all my pictures in my room. I have about 60 on the wall at the head and next to my bed. I love them. Vicky (one of my housemates) helped me put them up and we had a Girl’s Night In, listening to relaxation music and painting our nails. Solid choice. Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to go out with the rest of the house but I was just too tired and I think the jet lag is finally catching up with me.

Anyway, short entry today. Have to wake up in 5 hours to go to the museums tomorrow so I’m off to bed. 

I finally made it!!!

***To clarify: this post was written on Jan 23 but since I did not have internet until today it was uploaded on the 24th***

Oh. My. Word. I’m living in a dream…I expect to wake up any minute now because it all seems too good to be true: the beautiful blue skies, the warm 80 degree heat, the 12 hours of sunlight, the mountain that greets you when you walk out the front door, only having to walk 2 minutes to get to the grocery store, being able to buy $25 worth of food for only $10 (thank you exchange rate!), the great group dynamics, everything…I am floored. Needless to say my anxiety has definitely been diluted down and pushed to the back of my mind while being replaced with oodles of…how shall I put this? Hmmm…ah yes - ecstasy! Yup. Totally high on life right now and loving it.

Saying goodbye to my family was definitely difficult, especially knowing that I won’t be able to be with them for 5 full months, but I was glad that I got to be with them before they sent me on my way. Besides, it is never goodbye – it’s just a “see you later” kind of thing.




On the other hand, the plane ride over here was nowhere near as bad as I was anticipating. In fact it was kind of enjoyable. Plenty of time to journal and relax. Not to mention the mini-personal TVs we had with free movies, TV shows, music and games definitely helped and I managed to squeeze roughly 3 hours of sleep out of the 19 that we were in the air. Once we arrived we were taken to the van with a huge trailer for our luggage only to discover both trailer tires virtually had no air in them. Thankfully, Dan saved the day with his bike bump and we all made it to Kimberly House safe and sound at 1 am. Although we were all exhausted the rush of excitement had everyone up till about 3 or 4 – whoo hoo!

Today was absolutely outstanding! Woke up, wandered around Observatory (the suburb we now live in, which is fondly nicknamed Obz for short), got some groceries, went for a run (it was hot), did some hardcore, six pack abs (oh yeaaaaa), ate surprisingly tasty pizza with the group for lunch, showered (sooooooo amazing), got locked in the bathroom (no surprise there), took the train to the beach for 2 hours, showered again and did not get locked in this time (there is hope for me), went out for dinner with a small part of the group and ended the day by hitting up a bar called Stones where I got to sit outside on the ledge of the balcony (totally safe, I promise – I know you’re freaking out as you’re reading this mom) :)

The beach was phenomenal. Ohhh my goodness. I took pictures, of course (which will be uploaded once I can get to an internet café because it will need more megabytes than updating my blog) but they do not do any of the ocean or Table Mountain (the mountain that can be seen anywhere in Cape Town) justice. My jaw dropped and my heart raced for a good few minutes as we approached the magnificent beach that overlooked such a vast ocean. After conquering the monstrous waves by diving right in and getting tossed around for 15 minutes, my mini group and I decided to go down a little path and it was on this path that I had the prime opportunity to slowly absorb my surroundings. Seeing such beauty humbled me for I was reminded that God created all of this with pure beauty. I was beside myself and now that I am sitting here at 2:15 AM, SA time (though I won’t have access to post this until tomorrow afternoon or late tomorrow night, hence the date of the 24th or 25th of the post even though I’m blogging about the 23rd. Confusing, I know) I could not have asked for a better day. Yes I know, I know it won’t always be like this. In fact, I read on my friend’s blog that there are 4 stages of homestickness: the honey-moon phase, frustration, depression and acceptance. Needless to say, I’m in the honeymoon phase and I am going to soak it up as much as I possibly can. Mmmmm…South Africa :D

Well, seeing how I do have to get up in 5 hours to begin a long week full of registration and group activities, I am off to bed. Watch for updates with pictures – and for those of who don’t believe that I will keep up my picture/blog resolution – just watch me and be pleasantly surprised :) This is Janelle, signing off. Over and out.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4:8

Much love to all,
Janelle

New blog? New layout?

Before I dive into the abyss of my mind I have a question for those of you that are following my blog (and if you're reading this I assume that you are): Do you find yourself wanting to comment on one of my posts but are deterred by the fact you have to have a google account to do so? If so, I may have found a solution. I've been toying with the idea of changing over to wordpress.com, another blogging site, where anyone can comment without having any kind of account. My frustration is that I can't customize the colors and such to match this one (I'm quite fond of the brown color scheme and globe background) but in the end having feedback from people is more important. That said, could you please vote in my new poll with your opinion? Thank you in advance :)

Now, I suppose I should start describing the sea of emotions I have been and am currently swimming through with 4 days left before my departure. At the forefront is anxiety; anxiety over packing (which I finally started and feels like will never end), anxiety over having everything done on time, whether or not I'll be able ot visit Milwaukee one final time due to the inconvenient "wintry mix" of weather, spending as much time with my family as possible, packing, forgetting essential items, adapting to South African culture, and did I mention packing? I know I'll be okay once I get there and the excitement will override everything else but right now it's just a matter of taking it a day at a time, even an hour at a time...

Apart from anxiety I'm kind of at an emotional standstill. I feel numb...I'm living a façade, not realizing that in less than 4 days my normal everyday routine is going to evaporate and be transformed into a completely different kind of "normal" over the next 5 months. I will encounter a plethora of new sights, tastes, smells, sounds, experiences but right now it's difficult to comprehend. Perhaps it's because I have 2 empty suitcases sitting across the room from me, staring me down...I should go fix that. 

On a lighter and totally unrelated note, I saved $500 shopping at Kohl's today! What originally started as a mission to find a white T-shirt expanded into a whole shopping extravaganza. It was awesome! If any of you need winter boots for next year they are having an incredible sale where I got 3 pairs of $80 boots for $30 each. Sorry, the savvy shopper in me was very satisfied and I felt compelled to share :P Speaking of savvy shopper, I experience this money-saving-excitement whenever I shop at my favorite store, "Your Best Friend's Closet." Definitely worth checking out if you're in the Chicago-land area. A little shout out to my favorite ladies there!  ♥

All in all, I have faith in God and myself that everything will be just fine. Besides, every great journey begins with a single step. 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Philippians 4:6

Now where did I put those pink socks...?

Janelle

Holy moly...10 days

It's starting...the nerves are definitely starting to kick in. My adventure ahead has shifted from appearing surreal to nerve-wracking. Don't get me wrong, I'm still excited but if I had to choose being nervous and excited, currently I'd choose the former. And that may change tomorrow, or the day after or next week, who knows...I do know, however, that everything happens for a reason and Cape Town is going to shape me in ways I have yet to comprehend. 

I started my part-time job this past week and things have been going very well. In spite of working, I am fortunate to still be able to have final farewell-get-togethers with friends and form memories to take with me to Cape Town. As the time of my departure draws nearer, I'd like to make a shout out to all my friends and family: thank you. Thank you for all the laughter, the tears, trials, support, encouragement, craziness, and love you have shared with me. Whether we just met or have been friends for 13 years, I am grateful for the many bonds I have formed for I know that they have shaped me into who I am today. 

Now that I'm off of my soap box, I've realized I've been running non-stop this whole break without taking the time to rest. Let's not even talk about my sleep schedule :P It's funny because most of my friends are bored out of their skulls right before going back to school but truthfully I'm in la-la land where it's hard to tell the day of the week anymore. My point is that if I haven't stopped going full speed while on break, I'm definitely going to crash and burn in South Africa if I don't take care of myself. Therefore, while these next 10 days may be stressful with last-minute packing stuff, I'm going to do everything I can do rest up and at least get 8 hours of sleep a night. Hey, at least I'm trying, right? 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Jeremiah 29:11

Peacefully yours,

Janelle

Farewell 2010...hellooo 2011!

Wow...just like that 2010 has come and gone. Looking back it was a decent year: the former half had it's challenges but the summer was filled with great experiences and the kick-off to junior year at Marquette was incredible. I had a wonderful fall semester and it was definitely my best yet. Although I've made some mistakes this past year, I have no regrets from 2010. In fact, that's one of my new year's resolutions: embracing my mistakes as learning opportunities instead of seeing them as failures. A majority of my life I have feared making mistakes and have developed this idea that I need to be as perfect as humanly possible, which is pretty ridiculous and darn stressful if you ask me. I've learned over the past year that mistakes are not only normal, but they're healthy and an essential part of life in order to keep growing. If you don't make mistakes, you don't learn and you don't grow. And I definitely don't want to live a stagnant life. 


Don't get wrong, I'm not going to start seeking opportunities to make mistakes; rather, if mistakes happen I'm simply not going to beat myself up over them. I'm trying to adapt this philosophy as much as possible before I leave for overseas because being in a foreign country for the first time I'm bound to make mistakes. I'm excited to learn and grow and see how South Africa shapes me over the next 5 months. Granted, I'm aware it won't be all roses and daisies by any means, but can you blame a girl for being excited? 


My other resolutions for 2011 are: updating this blog once a week, updating my facebook with pictures within 2 weeks of an event, and talking less in conversations by listening more. The first 2 are self explanatory but the last one might need some explaining. To clarify, it was actually my mom's resolution and I decided to join her in it but I really do like the idea. To take it a step further, there is so much in life to absorb and observe but often we are too involved in talking or rushing to our next destination to listen to the world around us. When was the last time I just sat and listened to the wind? To appreciate it's beautiful melody as it echoes in the trees. Or to sit and watch children play on the playground? To capture their innocence and re-instill it within myself. It's been too long and so I am going to take 5 minutes each day to sit and "be."


I once read a poem that was titled "Slow Dance" and the main verse was "You better slow down. Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last." As I spend these last 3 weeks at home, I will strive to dance slowly and fully to life's music. 


Don't brashly announce what you're going to do tomorrow; you don't know the first thing about tomorrow.
Proverbs 27:1 


With an open ear and mind,
Janelle