Screeching Halt

A big problem has arisen this year with regard to bus transport for Red Hill schoolchildren. Apparently a lot of pre-K kids moved up to kindergarten (or Grade R, as they call it here) and now the bus is overcrowded, leaving more than 30 students with no way to school. Many parents don’t have cars, and even if they do, gas is too expensive for them to make the 20-mile round trip on a regular basis.

The simple, obvious solution would seem to be: Hire another bus. But it’s not that easy. The education department says they have no budget money. They even said these 30-something kids aren’t a priority because they have so many other issues to deal with. Apparently they’re willing to let kids stay home, grow up uneducated, and continue the cycle of helplessness and hopelessness that plagues so many communities in this country.

Living Hope is working with Red Hill parents and community volunteers to keep these kids in school while a permanent solution is sought. Volunteer transport has been used for three weeks and will continue as long as funds and willing drivers are available. Living Hope is also planning a fundraising concert for this Friday evening that will involve the Red Hill children themselves. The event may or may not raise much money, but whatever the outcome, it will get the kids involved in helping their own classmates and their community. I’ll share a report and photos from the concert next weekend.

The Wal-Mart of South Africa

As Wal-Mart is to Southern-Americans, Pick-n-Pay is to South Africans. The stores are everywhere and they offer everything, from groceries to baked goods to clothing to hardware to gardening supplies.

My local Pick-n-Pay is conveniently located five minutes from my home. It’s a familiar and comfortable place. I would estimate I'm there 8 to 10 times a week, just as I am at Wal-Mart back home. Really, the only thing missing is the redneck clientele. (Although, South Africans do have a curious habit of frequenting public places in their bare feet ...)

Pick-n-Pay has become another key component in my cross-cultural experience of life in South Africa.

Matters of Eternal Importance

Last Wednesday I witnessed a contrast between life and death in Red Hill. First, the sad news: Two weeks prior, a young man had been electrocuted while working on a transformer box. The memorial service I attended drew an overflow crowd. A somber mood prevailed, the kind you would expect when someone so young (mid-20s) departs so suddenly.

The question was asked, as Jesus had asked, “What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Matthew 16:26). The pastor later told me he had seen more young men attending his church in recent weeks. The hope is that they are considering their own mortality and their relationship to the God who they too will meet one day.

The good news: Three girls experienced re-birth into eternal life in our after-school program. On Wednesday afternoon, we presented God’s plan of salvation, explaining that it’s not to enough to know about Jesus as savior, but that a decision to know Him personally is necessary. After we finished and sent the kids home, these girls, ages 9, 10 and 13, stayed behind and prayed to ask Christ into their hearts as personal lord and savior.

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again,” (John 3:3). It was clear that these three girls were excited to have that new birth and guarantee of eternal life. As Pastor Jeff Cranston of LowCountry Community Church always says, seeing people come into God’s kingdom never gets old.

Home Sweet Home

To everyone at LowCountry Community Church who helped with fundraising for my friend Mzo’s house: Great progress is being made.

As I shared here last month, the desire of Mzo’s heart is to live full-time in Red Hill so he can better minister to the residents there. On Friday we took a significant step toward that by moving a collection of materials to the site where he plans to build.

The materials once formed a shack in the Masiphumelele township, where Mzo currently lives. I think most of us would view this pile of scrap wood and aluminum as, well, a pile of scrap. But I promise you, Mzo looks at it and sees a home. He’s excited, and he’s grateful to everyone who contributed to help him acquire it.

Incidentally, it took two trips to get everything to Red Hill, but the unloading process went fast, thanks to a group of eager boys who descended on us to help. It looks like Mzo’s hoped-for bonding opportunities have already begun.

Uncommon Sense

The Boy Scout motto says, “Be prepared.” It’s a logical piece of advice that you don’t even need to be a scout to adhere to. But it apparently never occurs to many of the tourists who attempt to walk up Cape Town’s Table Mountain. Officials of Table Mountain National Park do issue stern warnings of the dangers, but trouble still happens on a regular basis.

After hiking up and down the 3,600-foot mountain on Saturday, I can see why. I was astounded by some of the unprepared people I passed. Apparently they think because Table Mountain is in the middle of a city, it’s a walk in the park. The reality is that it’s a relentless uphill march that requires, at minimum, several bottles of water, solid footwear, sunscreen and a determined attitude.

Yet I saw people wearing sandals, sneakers with no laces, jeans and bathing suits. I saw people carrying single 16-ounce bottles of water and nothing else. On an 90-degree day, a hiker will exhaust that amount of water well before reaching the top. One clearly exhausted woman asked me, “Is this is the mountain that never ends?”

The best, or I should probably say worst, example was the two men (pictured above) wearing dress clothes and carrying briefcases. Perhaps they had an important business meeting at the top. Meanwhile, the woman accompanying them had apparently just rolled out of bed – she was wearing, and I am not making this up, bedroom slippers.

NeHi

I am now an automobile owner in South Africa. My good friend Pat is moving back to the U.S. and needed to sell her car, a Daewoo Matiz hatchback. “NeHi,” as Pat calls it, isn’t exactly a hotrod – it’s got only three cylinders and it labors to get up some of the hills around here. But it’s great on gas (or petrol, as South Africans call it), and owning a car should save me a few thousand dollars in the long run – I’ll no longer be shelling out $400 a month for a rental and should be able to re-sell NeHi when it’s time to go home.

NeHi is also a good reminder of what’s really important – in this case, an efficient means of getting around as opposed to a status-symbol SUV that’s so common in my home country. Here in Cape Town, these boxy little economy cars far outnumber the big gas guzzlers. I’ve yet to see a Hummer, or even a Yukon or an Expedition – and their absence is a refreshing sight.

Suiting Up

The Bible instructs God’s followers to feed and clothe the less fortunate. Living Hope does the former every day, providing sandwiches and fruit to hundreds of kids at after-school clubs around the Cape Peninsula. This week, the team in Red Hill was able to do the latter as well, handing out school uniforms to 70 kids who began a new term this month.