Feeling patriotic as the World Cup begins.  Durban, June 2010.

Andrew and his patriotic pants.  Durban, June 2010.

Sari'd!  Essenwood Market, August 2010.

Field trip to Durban, March 2010.  Ayanda, Sizwe, Wandile, Lusanda, Lihle, Lindo, & others.

worth 1000 words...

Here are a few snapshots of life as it's happened lately...

Back in July, our community took a trip to a game farm with our friends Brian, Matt, and Martin... lots of giraffe viewing and quart drinking ensued.

We reaped the many benefits of the Durban International Film Festival, and might have gone on a top-secret poster-stealing mission on the streets of Durban one night... as the organizer of said mission, I was elated.

One of my favourite books we've got in the library (along with The Gruffalo), Room on the Broom led to a really great creative art project with Grade 5.


Sanele wore his pants up to his neck one morning.  Gosh I love that face.

And then Becky came to visit!!

We met in Cape Town, and toured Stellenbosch to taste some delicious South African wine...

... and drove around the coast in style in our little red Kia (free upgrade, no big deal).

Even though school was closed due to the strike, she got to meet and consequently fall in love with our St. Theresa's boys.

We spent a day touring Durbs-- complete with a formal introduction to the Indian Ocean.

And then we celebrated Becca's (far left) 24th birthday with a Mexican fiesta at home.

I bought some gorgeous Indian silk at Essenwood Market (6 metres for R100... that's about $15!) and got to try it on as a sari, but I don't think I could pass for Indian.

Then we introduced Becky and Meg, Mary-Kate's friend from home, to the joy that is the Durban Sharks playing a rugby match in the Currie Cup.

On her last day, Beck and I took a short drive towards Pietermaritzburg to a game reserve called Tala, which was small, but we got to hang out with lots of wildebeest (yes like the ones that killed Mufasa) and giraffes... cue Becky doing lots of animal impressions, all day.

Then our guests left, and we were left to celebrate St. Augustine Day with the Augustinian sisters next door and our three friars/friends-- Fr. Frank, Baba Benji, and Fr. Jack.  I made mum's poached pears as a little tribute to St. Augustine, and they went down a treat.

Unfortunately, my digital camera bit the dust two weeks ago; keeping it safe in a case was to no avail, and the screen cracked and would cost about $350 to fix.  But, luckily, I'm really excited to announce that after some hefty discussion with my parents, this little baby is on her way to me as we speak.

Our coordinator April is on her way for our last site visit, and she arrives tomorrow night.  We'll have two days here with her, then on Friday morning, we'll be driving up to Mosetlha Bush Camp, in Madikwe Game Reserve, up on the border of Botswana, for a weekend of safari adventures.  We'll finish our trip with an overnight in Johannesburg on Sunday.  We mainly want to see the famed apartheid museum in Jozi, but I'm really looking forward to spending a small amount of time in the city where my parents spent two years before I existed.  Even though much has changed since the early 80s, I'm excited to see it nonetheless.

.

struck.

The beach in Durban where the FIFA Fan Fest was set up just six weeks ago.

It's been eleven days since I've worked at St. Leo's.  In that time, which started out as a Friday I'd wanted to take off to spend time with Becky in Cape Town, all public servants in South Africa are on strike.  Government schools (and some private ones) are closed, as are government hospitals and most clinics.  The sick can't get treatment, and more importantly, those with HIV/AIDS and tuberculosis who depend on regularly scheduled medicine have no access to their prescriptions.  Children enrolled in government schools  sit at home or at a relative's house, bored out of their minds, because their families cannot afford to send them to private school in the first place.  Sadly, many of these kids depend on their biggest meal of the day coming from the school kitchen, and they will go hungry unless they find aid elsewhere.

Themba is in hospital with a stomach ulcer and other complications, and when Becca and I went to see her today, she told us that she'd had a phone call from Smangele Khumalo, a learner in Grade 5.  All Smangele told Themba was that she was very hungry; Themba did her best to convince her that the strike would end soon, then hung up the phone and cried for the rest of the night.  We also spoke about how fortunate Themba is to be able to afford care in a private hospital-- otherwise her ulcer would go untreated and the fibroids they found would have gone unnoticed.

I've been talking a lot with people, both in South Africa and at home, about everything going on, and the general consensus is that the issues causing this strike are so deeply rooted in South Africa's turbulent and segregated history that it's really hard to be hopeful about the outcome.  There has been very little said on the government's part, and the president is no better; Jacob Zuma's latest announcement was that he had attended the highly anticipated Springboks/All Blacks rugby match in Soweto last Saturday with his cabinet members.  For people who suffered through centuries of being powerless to now have as much influence as they can get is a recipe for disaster (see: Julius Malema, and also the ANC's recent announcement to enact a media tribunal on all journalistic coverage of government policies and activity).

And the poor of South Africa cannot win.  Those who wish for higher salaries are using the only advantage they have-- their ability to work-- to change the minds of those they elected to power in the first place.  And those affected by the strike are equally annoyed at the government.  The ANC was elected to power in 2009 by the very people it is now turning its back on.  The blame game turns into an endless cat-and-mouse chase with lots of pointed fingers and not much progress.

But no matter who is to blame, the fact of the matter is that people are starving, children cannot attend school, and the sick will die without access to proper treatment and medication.  The results from matriculation exams (the equivalent of the Leaving Cert, GCSE, or other final exams to graduate high school) in this country were already abysmal, and now with exams so close, there is a very good chance that South Africa's meager 15% pass rate will dip even lower.

And all this in a country that just six short weeks ago played host to one of the most widely-viewed sporting competitions in the world.  In Durban alone, trillions of rand were poured into the construction of a beautiful airport and magnificent stadium, as well as the complete and much-needed renovation of the Golden Mile along the beach front downtown.  People were hired as "beach guards" to look after worried tourists' buckets and spades while they took a dip in the balmy Indian Ocean.  Peace Officers strolled along the road with municipal police to keep people's minds at ease.  In the fan parks, people gathered in the warm Durban winter to watch soccer together, regardless of nationality, race, economic status, or age.

But now it's over, and garbage collects on the beach while police officers busy themselves with forcing the homeless off benches along the promenade.  Now that the strike is in full force, they've been dispatched to places like Addington Hospital in the city, where they were forced to fire rubber bullets into a crowd of protesters.  Parents of some of the learners at St. Leo and elsewhere have lost their jobs, and the scar that runs so deeply in this achingly beautiful country cannot be covered up any longer.

In one of Durban's newspapers called The Mercury, a piece by someone named Danie Joubert was published in yesterday's Opinions section.  Though the column was striking in many ways, this passage in particular stood out to me:
It is obvious we have our social investment priorities wrong.  We can convince ourselves to spend hundreds of billions on sports stadiums and infrastructure that had a one-month emotional impact and a limited future utilisation return value, but we cannot convince ourselves to invest the seed capital in human capital formation that assures future harmony and prosperity for a nation.

I can only hope that some sort of agreement can be reached, and soon.  With the lives and well-being of the poor, especially children and the sick, at stake, a resolution needs to happen before things get any worse.




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the spectrum.

When I signed up to be an Augustinian Volunteer, and even during my time as an undergraduate at Villanova, I became accustomed to "reflection" pretty quickly.  Whether it was at AV Orientation, during a service break trip during college, or even in some of my classes, the idea of "reflecting" on my experience was something the Augustinian mindset got me very used to.  So when I came to South Africa as a volunteer, and an Augustinian Volunteer at that, I was fully prepared to "reflect".  I didn't know it would be so hard, and I certainly had no idea that it wouldn't be just frustration, or guilt, or sadness, or joy at one time-- I didn't know that my head and heart would take on the gamut of emotions every single day.

After a week and a half of a really successful time with the St. Leo's kids and our summer programme, we had to end things early.  There had been kids showing up that we didn't know-- the word was out that we had soccer balls and sandwiches and so these other children from Molweni began to outnumber our own kids.  Themba and Ayanda, two coworkers from St. Leo's, were both a great help to us during the camp, but last Tuesday, Themba pulled Mary-Kate and I aside and told us that she didn't think continuing the camp was safe, for us or for the children.  She pointed to one of the teenagers wearing a Bafana Bafana jersey and playing netball in the grounds and said, "That girl's family lives here in Molweni... and I know for a fact that her father and brother are professional thieves.  Who's to say that they didn't send her here to get information for them?"  While it's hard to believe that situations like that arise, they do, and putting ourselves in the middle of them compromises too much.  We also heard rumors that the older kids who showed up to play soccer were stealing sandwiches from the younger St. Leo's students, which made me more upset than anything.  It's hard enough to dole out food to hungry kids, but dealing with these older kids taking advantage of our learners was really hard to hear.
We went ahead with the movie screening we'd planned for Wednesday-- nothing beats hearing Zulu kids singing along to High School Musical like any good pre-teens would-- and then said goodbye to everybody until we see them again next week, when school restarts.  I'll be really relieved to get back to seeing them all every day again.

With the camp ending early, I had to find some other way to occupy my days, so I decided to work a day at the Hillcrest AIDS Respite Centre this past Friday.  Though I'm not cut out for that kind of work on a daily basis, I often feel like I should put more pressure on myself to be challenged-- and that's how I found myself standing over one of the patients, giving her a bedbath.  I'd never done something like that before, and it was hard.  Really hard.  She was in a lot of pain, and even raising her arm so I could wash underneath was a huge effort, but I tried to make lighthearted conversation, even telling her that her legs were long enough that she could be a model.  I realize now that the comments were just to keep myself distracted.
I spent the remainder of the day on Friday holding Bianca, a one-year-old who had just been admitted, with her mother, the day before.  She's HIV positive, has TB, and looks more like a 4-month-old than one whole year.  Although she's sick, she's happy just to have attention and be held like any baby, and I really enjoyed spending time with her.  She has the most beautiful eyes-- and is so curious!  All I can do is spend time with her and hope that she gets better soon.

Then the weekend came, and with it, more World Cup festivities.  These past few weeks have flown by (it's already July?!) but all this waving of flags and blowing of vuvuzelas has gotten really tiring.  I'm happy with how South Africa has handled all this commotion so far, but I'm really nervous for the aftermath.  That being said, we had a nice weekend, spent some time at the fan park and down around Durban-- even enjoying a Greek lunch on Saturday in the gorgeous winter sun.  After a long afternoon nap in the sunshine yesterday, we invited a few friends over for a small 4th of July celebration... and we even conquered lighting the charcoal barbecue all on our own!  And, even though the USA is out of the World Cup, I had another excuse to don my soccer scarf last night-- once the sun goes down around 5 or so, it gets really chilly up here!

And now it's Monday, and already today I woke up exhausted after another restless night of sleep.  I laughed with the kids at 1000 Hills, as we played games and sang "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes".  I vented frustration to Becca after another failed attempt to pick up a pension for Gogo Gloria, who lives at the bottom of a steep hill in kwaNyuswa and can't walk thanks to infected skin grafts, the result of terrible snake bites on her legs.  I heard from Mary-Kate that the patient I bathed on Friday died over the weekend, and consequently went for a run to clear my head.  I sat on the hill and cried.  I met an Irish woman named Mary who is on a silent retreat at the center next door.  I caught up with my family back at home via videochat, and laughed at their jokes.....  all in one day.

My work here is tiring, and challenging, and stressful, but it's the emotional work that is most grueling.  My roommates and I often joke that our friendships have been put on overdrive-- we have one year to become roommates, community members, and hopefully, friends.  But every day here is overdrive.  Every single day, my emotions go from one to the other and back again, and before I know it, the day is over and I lie in bed, completely overwhelmed at the thought of my life here.  And that is why blogging is hard, writing letters is hard, talking to people on the phone is hard-- the process of reflecting on my daily life seems sometimes to be a task too gigantic to undertake sometimes.
But I'm trying.  Thankfully, Becca, Meg, and Mary-Kate are incredibly understanding, patient, loving people who deal with me on a daily basis... and vice versa.  We've made some really good friends with South Africans as well, both our age and older.  The Augustinians we live with are fantastic, and even my students at St. Leo's seem to have a sixth sense about my emotions.
So even though it's hard to be here, and be present, and process everything all at the same time, I'm forced to be held accountable for how I feel, and that's a challenge I really value as the sun sets at the end of the day.

that's not the humidity you feel... it's AYOBA!

Today is the shortest day of the year... or the longest, depending on the hemisphere.  Down here, the sun set around 5pm and the thought of the days getting longer gives me a lot of joy.
Though the South African winter is heavenly, the short days sometimes make me feel like hibernating... which is what I did for the majority of last week, when my annual bout of coughing, sneezing, and general unhealthiness took over.  Those kind of symptoms usually rear their ugly heads come October at home (my brief encounter with pneumonia last year?  Anyone?)-- which makes me right on schedule, on southern hemisphere time of course.  Luckily, with some rest and TLC from my roommates, the World Cup holiday provided an excellent opportunity for recuperation.  As a bonus, I also got to spend some quality time with the Fitzpatricks, our longtime family friends.  They're here in South Africa to see some World Cup matches and to revisit a country they left behind back when my parents left, so it was really nice to have an adopted family for a little while.  They stayed at a friend's house in Umhlanga Rocks, a northern suburb of Durban that I hadn't visited yet, so I enjoyed seeing another part of the city.

The World Cup has been a very unique aspect to being my year as an Augustinian Volunteer here in South Africa thus far.  It's colored everything I've done, from geography lessons at St. Leo's to weekend plans to rearranged schedules and new safety precautions.  Though I was apprehensive about South Africa's readiness to host such a massive event, and though I still have some reservations about the impression that people who visit are getting of this country, I've been overwhelmingly impressed by the festivities thus far.  It hasn't been easy to be away from the kids we see five days a week ordinarily, but the sense of celebration that has taken over the city, the country, and most likely the world at large, is hard to ignore.  Even if "Wave Your Flag" and "Waka Waka" are played on repeat on the radio (or at clubs in Durban), I still feel a wave of emotion when they come on during half-time down at the fan parks on the beach.  I'm happy to deck myself out in South African gear for Bafana Bafana games, or drape myself in red, white, and blue to see the US play.

Meeting people from all over has been an amazing experience as well, especially when we get asked, "Oh, are you here for the World Cup?"  Though they could be pure social interactions, these encounters offer us an opportunity to explain our work here, and just last weekend we met a Yale graduate who is also a full-time volunteer, up north in Mtubatuba; his organization uses soccer as a vehicle for HIV/AIDS education in the bush.

It's hard to be a volunteer with a full-time job when the rest of the country seems to be on vacation; the influx of visitors to Durban alone have really boosted the energy of the city, and it's made it very difficult to return to our jobs come Monday.  Today was the first day of the holiday program we're offering to our learners at St. Leo's, and after a restless night last night and feeling generally apathetic about the prospect of working this week, I was so happy to see some of my students and spend the day with them, playing soccer, doing word searches, and feeling relieved knowing that at least some of them were keeping themselves occupied during this extra-long break from school.  Becca was a star and led the kids in a paper mache project which they all loved!  The camp will continue for the rest of this week and next week as well, and we've been assured that the numbers of kids will only increase over time.  It's nice to interact with our learners outside of a teacher/student relationship.  I only hope they'll remember who the teacher is when July 13th rolls around!

All in all, I continue to hope that this World Cup will result in more positive than negative for South Africa.  I'm nervous at the prospect of all the jobs that have been created for the month-long event becoming obsolete, and reports of missing children in some of the areas we work in have started to surface, but I hope that they come from misinformation and are no more than rumor.
In the meantime, all we can do is make an effort to keep the people we serve safe and happy, and let the rest of the month unfold as it will... and maybe enjoy a little ayoba on the side.

it thrills me right down to the marrow

I can't count the number of times I've sat down to post an entry here and share my crazy life over the past few weeks.  One appendix surgery, water and electricity outages, a midyear retreat, and a World Cup later, it's almost mid-June and sometimes the speed with which time passes is scary (especially when I mark my time according to blog posts!)

So, I'm going to cheat now and write a list of things that are important to mention, and write a real entry soon, hopefully with photos!

• We had two visiting groups, one from Villanova University and one from Malvern Prep, at the end of May... and they got the real African experience when we didn't have water and then didn't have electricity in the space of five days!
• My roommate Mary-Kate had to get her appendix out a few weeks ago, very suddenly, but with a couple of days in the hospital, lots of rest, and some good old-fashioned TLC, she's on the mend and is back to work for the most part.
• We had our midyear site visit from Pat, our supervisor back in the US, and though we had to rearrange plans because of MK's surgery, we had a really nice retreat and took some time to reflect about reaching the midyear point in our year of service... thank goodness we live next-door to a retreat house and got to get out of our house for a weekend!
• School closed last Wednesday for winter break, meaning a four-week break for the World Cup holidays which is a bit longer than usual.  We've organized a holiday program for some of our learners, which starts next Monday-- and I've been taking the time without the kids to organize the library!  It needs lots of work, but I'm happy to have some time to do it before our two-week camp starts.  I miss the kids a lot already.
• I got to go and see Johnny Clegg with some of my roommates and our South African friends last week, which was a really cool experience-- he had a band called Juluka during apartheid with a Zulu man named Sipho Mchunu, and was banned from playing in public spaces and things... now he tours mostly as a solo act, but seeing him the night before the World Cup kickoff was a big thrill.  How can you not love an artist who has a song with lyrics like I'm sitting on the top of Kilimanjaro; it thrills me right down to the marrow?!
• Last but not least................. the World Cup has arrived!  Everything is in full swing here, and while I had and still do have some reservations about South Africa hosting the event, we spent a lot of time at the fan parks down in Durban this weekend, standing on the beach overlooking the Indian Ocean, deafened by vuvuzelas and sharing the excitement with people from all over the world-- and the significance of such a momentous event being held in this country is overwhelming.  I just hope it continues without a hitch, and that I can find some time to enjoy it and still keep working hard.  Some good family friends, the Fitzpatricks, are flying to South Africa today for some of the games, and I'm really looking forward to meeting up with them and seeing some friendly faces later this week.  I also ran into a guy who went to my university while at the fan park on Friday night; sometimes the world is a very small place!

Hopefully I'll find time to concentrate on some more reflective writing soon, but for now, I'll go on feeling very lucky to be in South Africa this year.

worth 1000 words...

jump-rope is dangerous.

Last Tuesday, South Africa was abuzz celebrating the 100 Day countdown until the opening of the World Cup.  St. Leo's was no exception; each classroom was assigned a participating team at random (ours was Switzerland, how thrilling-- we talked a lot about cheese and chocolate), and on Tuesday, each class dressed in team colors.  After break, the teachers broke out into festive clothes of their own and with the whole school gathered around the schoolyard, the teachers decided to entertain the kids with some games of their own, one of which was jump-rope.  I wanted to join in and not seem like the awkward volunteer, so Mary-Kate and I kicked off our flip-flops and proceeded to make fools out of ourselves, much to the delight of everybody.

And then, because I didn't wear sneakers and because I wanted to impress everybody with my skills, I left a chunk of my big toe on the schoolyard at St. Leo's.  I came down pretty hard and stubbed my toe badly, but didn't realize anything was seriously wrong until a couple of minutes after I left the game and one of the kids pointed out the blood gushing from my foot.

When all was said and done, I hobbled away with some cuts and bruises.  Now, a week later, I've had to visit a doctor from the parish who recommended that I take some penicillin and perhaps get a small procedure done on my toe to remove the possibility of an ingrown toenail.

It's surprising how debilitating a simple thing like stubbing one's toe can be when I'm on my feet all day teaching or trying to run around and have fun with the boys at St. Theresa's (after their homework is done, of course).

In other news, we've had the pleasure of hosting a couple of guests during the past week.  Brian Strassburger, a former AV who served in the Bronx and then here in South Africa in 2008, is here for ten days.  He now works for the Augustinian Missions Office, and his boss, Father Tony, arrived in South Africa last Thursday.  They're here to play host to a film crew from Visionaries, a PBS television show that profiles various charities and non-profit organizations.  The group has elected to spotlight the Augustinians for a future documentary, focusing primarily on their work with the poor in Philadelphia through ADROP, and the Augustinian mission here in Durban.  It's really exciting, especially for those of us who enjoy public television.

I'm not sure if I'll make it into the final cut, but if I do, I'll be the one hobbling around in the background, with a large bandaged toe.

That being said, I did make it out to a club in Durban on Saturday night with a crowd of friends, sore toe and all.  We had a really good night, and rounded out the party the next morning by grabbing breakfast at Suncoast, a casino on the waterfront in Durban.  Bizarre, but true.  It's been really nice to socialize with Brian-- looking at his photos and hearing stories of another community's experience here in South Africa has made me really appreciate my time here in a new way.

In an ironic twist of fate, following a conversation on the ride home from work today about the lack of criminal activity during his volunteer year, Brian came home to find he'd been robbed.  Though his passport and laptop are safe and sound, it's a little disconcerting that his possessions were stolen from this very property-- but it just means we all have to be a bit more vigilant about things like setting our alarm and keeping our slam door closed.  

We'll all be sad to see Brian go, but in just a few weeks, Pat will be here for our first site visit of the year.  Time really is flying.

Hopefully next time I sit down to write a blog post, I will be sans bandages and I'll have had my five minutes of public TV fame.

church dedications, birthdays, & other weekend things.

I woke up at 6:00 this morning, after a night of disturbed sleep.  The sun was shining through grey clouds and although I was really tired, I couldn’t get myself back to sleep again.  That’s what happens when your daily routine starts at 6 am I suppose.

Though we’ve been without internet here in Bothas Hill for the past ten days….. ta-da!  Life goes on.  The break from contact with the outside world was refreshing at first, then tiresome when I turned 23 and couldn’t talk to anyone at home for the most part, but then it was liberating to be able to find other ways to spend our time.  Work keeps me busy and though homesick, I was able to put my energy into teaching, reviewing for vocabulary tests with Grade 6 and 7, and swinging young boys around in circles after helping with homework at St. Theresa’s three afternoons a week.

The four of us spent Valentine’s Day in the valley at the dedication ceremony and Mass for a newly-built church at St. Helen’s Parish, one of the outposts of the Augustinian church in Kloof.  We left the house at 9 am and didn’t get home until 3:00 that afternoon, but the ceremony itself was something that was really amazing to see, as these things don’t happen very often at all.  The mass was a regular Zulu mass, but the words to all the songs sung throughout were printed in booklets, so Mary-Kate, Becca, and I made a good attempt to sing along which helped move time along more quickly.  Following the Mass, the four walls of the church were blessed and a relic of St. Helen was placed under the altar.  The archbishop of Durban was in attendance, and he and some other members of the church and community were thanked in a traditional Zulu ceremony, involving lots of excited yelling from the women in the congregation, the gift of livestock and beautiful blankets, and long speeches lauding each person’s contribution to the finished product.  The inkosi or chief of the area was at Mass with his entourage as well, and it was really fascinating to see him and hear what he had to say about the dedication.

I can now count seeing live sheep during Mass off my bucket list.  One was so nervous it even pooped on the church’s nice new carpet!

The choir in traditional Zulu dress-- mostly black with really colorful beading

The archbishop receiving his gifts: a headpiece, matching staff, and mink blanket from a woman on the parish council at St. Helen's

I wrote last time about going to see the Durban Sharks play some rugby, and the match was a lot of fun.  We had some food and drinks beforehand, then made our way into the stadium just before the rain began.  The Sharks lost (in a pretty dismal end to an exciting second half), but I think we all really enjoyed being there to see a game—and I hope I get to some more of the Super 14 series before too long!

Here's the walkway up to our seats, and you can see the arch of Moses Madiba Stadium (built for the World Cup) in the background 

Our whole community at the game... Becca, me, Mary-Kate, and Meg

I had a very nice birthday; though I was far from home and missing contact with my friends and family very much, I was completely showered with kindness through letters and parcels that have been coming to 8 Warwickshire Crescent in a steady stream since the 17^th.  Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness—even if the cookies did arrive in crumbles, or the cards got redirected and didn’t arrive until today, I feel very touched by all the attention.

Evidence of my recent monopoly of the South African postal service

We celebrated here on the 16^th, as it was Fat Tuesday.  With my actual birthday falling on Ash Wednesday there wasn’t really much room for celebration that day.  The community of four Augustinian nuns who live next door to us were eager to have us round for dinner, so we braved torrential downpour and some pretty spectacular African lightning and feasted on pancakes, carrot cake, and I was given a dozen orange roses in celebration.  My housemates didn’t disappoint either— Meg treated me to a scavenger hunt on the morning of my birthday, I got some delicious Cadbury’s chocolate from Becca, and an amazing fish-and-chips dinner from Mary-Kate.

Last Saturday, we threw a braai which actually ended up being more of an American barbeque, and had some friends around for drinks and food.  The rain held off and we had a really nice time, as evidenced by an Australia-shaped bruise on my upper arm, texts the next day from our South African friends, and the mountains of bottles and cans we dumped at the recycling center last Sunday.  When you climb up on the roof of a poolhouse to be serenaded with “Happy Birthday” from friends you’ve only known two short months, life is really good.

Smiling faces having a good time at the braai...

... and my Australia-shaped bruise, one week later.  The kids at St. Leo's love it.

On a more somber note, my faithful trusty iPod decided to conk out on me this week.  I’ve had the thing for three years without a problem, so I was pretty sure that I’d see it fail some time during my year here, but not so soon!  Hopefully with the arrival of some American visitors in March, I can get it home and fixed and back again without much issue.  Listening to NPR podcasts on Sundays had become part of my weekend routine, and I’m really missing them already.

This weekend has been much more low-key so far, thank goodness.  This morning, we made good use of our early rising and took a trip to the Shongweni Farmers’ Market, where we indulged in lattes and breakfast sandwiches.  We bought hummus from an Israeli food stall, and also some fresh basil and oregano plants, which Becca planted outside our cottage this morning.  At just over a dollar for each one, we really got a bargain.  We then went to Stations of the Cross at Our Lady of Mercy which was nice.  Stations never fails to remind me of my days at St. Ignatius School, where we’d pray them every Friday during Lent, reading out of grey, red, and black booklets.

The sky is very overcast today, but I’m happy to get a break from the oppressive heat of the South African summer.  We have plans to have a community retreat day tomorrow at the Krantzkloof Nature Reserve, just down the road.  There are rumors of a waterfall there, but with or without it, it’ll be a nice day of reflection and relaxation before March arrives.