mush.

white, sticky, tasteless globs of mush. i think it's made of rice. but i'm not sure. 

it's what we've been eating a lot of since we got to africa. needless to say, this part of the world isn't known for it's top-notch cuisine. but in spite of the less-than-gourmet meals, our team is doing well. we are tired. a little sunburned. very grateful for 3 meals a day and beds to sleep on. and praising jesus for his provision and faithfulness.

my time in south africa has been a blur of hard physical labor, hot sun, and interesting conversations with local africans. i've been assigned to help build a security fence around the perimeter of refilwe. as a result, i have spent a lot of time working alongside men from the area. as maintenance volunteers, our ywam team has temporarily stepped into their world. a world full of manual labor, short breaks, and hard knocks. our fence posts have been stolen and vandalized twice now.

despite our joining in their effort, it's obvious we don't belong here. passersby stare, smile in amusement, and sometimes even ask us for jobs. when we tell them we're not in charge - but rather at the bottom of the totem pole - they respond with surprise, and often laughter. they are looking for work (as most people in the area are), and our pale skin makes us a target for requests.

it's become apparent that we are not quite understood here. today our friend john asked us how much our salary was worth. 

...hmmm. how can we explain to him that we have actually PAID money to fly all the way to africa in order to do this work, with no monetary compensation?? 

we tried. we told him that we love jesus, and don't want money for the time we spend digging holes and pouring cement. he looked a bit bewildered, and dropped the matter. he didn't understand...but then, neither can we.

we will never understand what it feels like to rely on labor wages. to grow up without the privilege of a good education system. to wear the same second-hand clothes every day. to speak 12 languages and still be considered "uneducated." to live in a small, tin shack with no running water or electricity.  to support a family that waits in a nearby squatter camp for you to return with bread for dinner. to be without medical or dental care of any kind. to live less than 200 miles from the coast your entire life, without any hope of ever seeing the ocean...

i am constantly aware of the gigantic gap that lies between my life-experience, and the lives of the people who pass by as i build this fence. the women plod down the path, babies tied to their backs, large objects balanced on their heads. the men wheel barrels of empty soda bottles, often slowing to observe our work, or to chat in zulu with our co-workers.

living and working alongside these beautiful people has caused me to reflect upon, appreciate, and wonder at the way we live in the west. the comforts of my childhood are a far-off, unattainable fantasy when compared with the harsh reality of this poverty-stricken world. the hopes and dreams i was always encouraged to have simply don't exist here. but the people of south africa are precious, and despite their struggles, they have much to teach me about loving others and God. 

our bodies are being worked hard every day, but i go to bed with my mind racing. my prayer now is that the Holy Spirit would rest on me, and pour into the lives of those i meet. i want my attitude to be that of Christ, and for my mind and spirit to be open during the rest of my time in south africa.