Different.

It is quite interesting to look back across this last year. It’s interesting to see how much I’ve changed and grown in every possible way. I can see it in my journal chicken-scratch, I can see it in my posts, I can see it in my relationships. I like the idea of maturing, even though it is a process coated in colors that tend to taint the skin, colors that burn and are not pleasant to experience. It’s always worth it, the outcome anyway. Every year I reflect, I see that process I went through and the maturing God blessed me with, but I still saw me. Now I see an entirely different person.

I’m finding myself these days sitting in a season of rest, refreshment and reflection. I don’t know if the South Africans that have been my company for these last 250+ days see the difference and I don’t know if those state-side that were my company in the past will see the difference, But to be entirely honest with you, I feel the difference in who I have become deeper than my bones.

Phil Edwards said, “There is a need in all of us for controlled danger. That is, there is a need for an activity that puts us on the edge of life. There are uncounted millions of people, right now, who are going through life without any sort of real vibrant kick. The legions of the unjazzed.”

I’ve never wanted to be a member of the unjazzed legions, a member of a crew of individuals who never took any risks, never faced danger head on – those groups that sit comfortably in there comfy chairs so long that it has the imprints of their ass. I dreaded the idea of becoming a member of that society. So my entire life I have done everything I could to be in the legions of the jazzed, to be in the life-style that risks it all so that they may move with the ebb and flow of the raw-side of this world, in order to truly live.

When you move to a foreign country, all by yourself something happens. That ‘life’ cup you had, that cup that formed your identity and security (and essentially makes up all you are) gets emptied. Living in America we have the luxuries of filling up that cup daily, rarely does it get half-empty, if even close to dry. You fill it up with material possessions that bring you comfort, you fill it with family and friends, you fill it by succeeding in American expectations, with rewards, with promotions, with compliments, with financial security, with social acceptance, with cultural comforts, you fill it by being busy, using every minute of every day and you may even save a small degree of that cup for God’s love to comfort you and bring you some identity.

But like I said, something happens when you leave your home-land, your culture, your society, your social network – your cup runs dry and you have no way to re-fill it, no way at all. Except with God. This year was hard, my cup was very dry for a very long time and it was a risk I didn’t realize I didn’t want to take. It was an experience that tasted awful in the midst.

But I guess that is why I am so vastly different today, so different from that girl I was at the beginning of 2011. I guess being a member of the jazzed, taking that risk, emptying the cup… actually filled my cup, filled it with something different, with a substantial substance that has stained the inner lining with a different hue.

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.

~C.S. Lewis

South African Session

What I have learned while living with CSA in SA ...

1. You can avoid rules and order, actually you should. Bring the spontaneity in your life at full force. The systematic structure, is good and helpful and sometimes brilliant, but it can never replace the organic growing and changing of having impromptu disorder be the system for your life.

2. Don’t just embrace chaos, but create a little bit of it. Constant change will only keep you (and the people around you) nimble and flexible, ever growing, ever learning. Within this chaos, be creative – as creative as you want to be and encourage the creativity and ingenuity of those around you.

3. You have to be flexible. All the time, everyday, no matter the project – being flexible is the best asset you can have.

4. Embrace and Empower and Embark. You have the capability to embrace anyone, any idea and anything. Do not just observe but seriously consider going for something, embrace possibilities. Empower anyone, any idea and anything. You have the capability to empower anything in your life. And embark on all you want – all your dreams and all your desires.

5. It’s all about God. Who you are, who you will become, who you want to become is all dependent on God and that’s the only thing it should be dependent on. What you want to do, should be all focused on God. Your entire life will always, should always revolve entirely around our God.

That's mainly what I have learned from the lovely folk at CSA, my coworkers and community. And this is what I have learned from SA culture...

Stay on the left side of the road.

Eat lots of chutney and use lots of zam-buk.

This rainbow country has the most extreme colors in their rainbow.

Braai with pride.

Love Mandela.

Respect the wildlife: the lions and elephants as well as the Nguni cattle and the neighbor's dog

Robots are not like R2D2.

Now does NOT mean now.

‘Eish!’ is for surprise, not short for quiche.

Understanding a country’s history will change your view on everything you see.

The best foods start with ‘B’ biltong, bobotie, boerewors, bunny chow.

You’ll die from dehydration if you don’t like rooibos.

And the best way to reply to ‘Howzit Boet?’ is always lekker!

Running reverie

I was running the other day and had some thoughts come my way, thoughts that correlated running with living. That correlated the concrete road that I was jogging down with this rugged path that I am passing days with.

I was jogging, just warmed up, in the best part of my run, about kilometer 5. And there was a massive wind this day, about 35 mph, that was pushing and shoving me around. As I was running the incline on the side of one of Jbay's main roads the wind picked up on my back, as I thought with a smile 'this is quite fun, quite enjoyable, and the wind is just helping me along on this nice little run.' And then I realized what was really happening, the wind was causing me to pick up my pace, with 5 kilometers left to go I noted if I go any quicker than the set pace I'll be killing myself on that last 400 meters of straight up-hill to my flat. So quickly my smile turned to grimace as I no longer used the wind as an advantage but resisted against it, attempting to keep my set pace.

I starting thinking about running the path of life, that korny cliche that always comes into my mind while on runs during such a transitional period of life. And I began thinking how easily this run could be no fun. I was running about 10ks that day, with a very strong, winter bitter wind beating against my naked legs, cars streaming past me with no concern for my safety. And I could be quite agitated, ready to quit, to walk, to just go back home. But I truly was thoroughly enjoying my run even in the midst of the obstacles. And I owe it to my faithful ipod. The music I was listening to kept me so stoked for this run, it made the obstacles just entertaining and challenging rather than difficult and discouraging. Songs like this and this and even this one. Helped me to jump and jive while i jogged.

And this is where I relate it to life...

In life we always have noise filling our ear drums. From our community to our environment to whatever it is that we decide to fill our hearing vices with. And sometimes, its aginast our choice, we are set, stuck, in a community that is filling us with noise and we don't have ear plugs thick enough to keep it out. That noise will make all the difference. You may be on a difficult run, a path that God placed you on that you need to run because it will turn you into a grand person, a path you need to experience because it will only help you grow - and it could be a fun growth, an enjoyable time.

But if I would have been listening to mellow music, to sorrowful songs, or to lowly lyrics I can promise you I would not have enjoyed that run, I would have taken a short cut home in order to escape the winds blow.

The noise you put in your head, in your heart, will completely dictate not only your journey but your attitude as you take it - your final outcome. Community is one of the most important things in life, one of the most needed things - you will hear noise, no matter what, but you can choose what noise that is.

Ma.chur.ity.

Maturity. It's an interesting thing. A characteristic trait that many, if not all, of the people surrounding me believe they hold. It is a characteristic dent in some one's molding that if you were to tell them was not there, or only came out now and then - they well, would get defensive, very defensive.

But maturity is an interesting thing (like I said). But I see it as something that is very obvious, something that if you really wanted you could easily sit down and say this is the fertilizer I need to grow in this direction. Although, possibly obvious, I regard it as one of the hardest to acquire and secure.

“A mature person is one who is does not think only in absolutes, who is able to be objective even when deeply stirred emotionally, who has learned that there is both good and bad in all people and all things, and who walks humbly and deals charitably” “The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate.” “Maturity is: The ability to stick with a job until it's finished; The ability to do a job without being supervised; The ability to carry money without spending it; and The ability to bear an injustice without wanting to get even” “Maturity of mind is the capacity to endure uncertainty.”

Personally I believe maturity is more than just age, it's more than just being responsible, it's more than having some grey hairs. I could see a 50 year old, grey haired, successful man - none of those characteristics would tell me if he is mature or not, which a lot of the world probably disagrees with.

I was thinking the other day how in a few months I will be 23. When most people approach a birthday, they say they feel so old, or they are astonished at how old they are. Honestly, it feels very natural to be turning that age - I could stack a couple more years onto it and I don't think it would phase me to much. Although, I don't know how mature I am. Because I am positive when I am 32 looking back I will only see the immature, naive, too proud, little girl I am today.

And if I look back, I at least know I am a little more mature today than I was at 18 (thankfully). But the things that matured me, have been the complete opposite of what the world seeks after. I matured through not thinking in absolutes, I matured when I had to be objective even though my heart was pounding, when people 'good and bad, mature and immature' have taught me something. I have seen my immaturity in my lack of integrity and seen it grow as I have forced ethics and morals into those dark corners. There is one aspect (And may very well be the only one) that attributes so greatly to my maturity level and that is gaining humility. A characteristic that is not enjoyable in learning and obtaining.

So to me, maturity is not necessarily those grey hairs and numerous candles on the birthday cake, to me it's how much of your pride you can swallow (even when no one else knows your choking to get it all down).

[As I closed this blog I couldn't help think of that time Abraham Lincoln had a meeting with an individual in his office, the two men walked out of his office, the visitor looking disturbed and discomposed. As Lincoln said to himself, "I don't like that man's face" his secretary replied, "sir, I don't think he can help the way his face looks." And recalling not his physical features but the annoyance he allowed to escape through his brow Lincoln replied, "When a man has lived for 4 decades, he has no excuse to not be in control of his face."
Maturity is being level-headed and wise - I admire the way Lincoln lead a country of individuals who resented him and yet he never showed any turmoil on his face, always being in control of himself. Because there is nothing in life we can control outside of ourselves, but we do have the choice to how we react and live - and our maturity shows through every face we make.]

vagrant living

In the last 5 weeks I've traveled 3,826km of South African soil.

And come October I will be in 6 different countries + 6 different U.S. states in 5 weeks;

in those last recent weeks my brother was my companion.

My brother came and we watched surfing, hung out in Jbay, laughed with lions, drove the garden route to Cape Town, played with penguins, stayed with hipster friends, took a train for brekkie, drove the peninsula and had lunch on Cape Horn, hiked up Table Mountain, strolled the shops of Long street, slept in the Amber Tree Hostel on Kloofnek street, ate Asian with friends, jumped the world’s largest bungee, drove north (getting lost and finding ourselves in a deserted African town), cruised the game land of Addo Elephant national park, and spent our last day on PE’s boardwalk eating burgers and icecream.

It was amazing having him here, beyond amazing. I think I was smiling the entire time, it brought me so much comfort, so much joy to have him near. It seems as if every time we are together we get a little closer, I’ve quit picking on him and he has matured – and our brother/sister relationship has flourished into a friendship that I don’t know what I would do without.

Having him here though made me think, it brought so much love into my heart that the community I have been missing and longing for hit a vein even deeper in my heart than it has this year. ( I have a community here, an amazing one full of impressive individuals, but God did something unique inter-twining those hearts of my Joplin family). It didn’t make me cry myself to sleep at night, or whine to him, it didn’t make me write long sappy letters to those I’ve left behind; it just made me say o so solemnly that being the adventurous wanderer that I am is quite a lonely thing.

I am ok with it at times, being alone with only my independency as my company, and when I was 18 I preferred it that way, but living in Joplin almost bea the lone-wolf out of me. I cannot and would not want to live life without my adventures, and I realize I write a lot about being adventurous and my adventures, but I only write about the alluring and enchanting side of adventure. Truth be told: adventures truly are risky, most of the time to your physical being, all of the time to your emotional well-being.

And now as I reflect on life I see how I still love adventures and still allow them to have a major role in my life and my relationship with God. But I now see how I cannot (will not) live without community.

As I spoke to my dear friend Kaitlin about her upcoming wedding we spoke about how marriage is a grand adventure. I believe those people trekking this earth, scheming schemes and playing with perilous escapades – have an adventure they are missing out on. The adventure of relationships, friendships, marriage, being a component in a community, being a member of a church, being an element in a neighborhood.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” — Henry David Thoreau

Its easy for me to agree with this quote, with my love for nature and solitary - knowing that the woods can teach you things that you cannot learn on a computer. But if the trees can teach you and the rocks can discipline you and the waters can awe you, the impact they contain for you is miniscule when compared to the deliberate life you could live when you are living this life with other lives. When the vagabond grows roots and and ties knots to other souls so tightly that not even the seductive allure of this world could sever them - that is a day when kingdoms are made and adventures are had.

Nostalgic Nights

My younger, bigger brother is with me (well he is actually fast asleep on my bedroom floor at the moment) but he flew over the large pond from the Yankee side of the world to come to South Africa, to come see me.

Our days have been leisurely and lovely – with the Billabong Pro having off days the past two days it has allowed me to give my full attention to Kellen (and Gunner his mate who joined him for this African adventure). Yesterday, their first day here in Jbay was quite chill – showing them around the town and teaching them as much as I could about South African culture.

While today got off to a chill start, and a walk to the beach this afternoon - it was topped off at the lion park (which was amazing) and then we drove onward to PE for the premiere of Soul Surfer (that we, CSA, were hosting) that went amazing as well. So our time in the sunshine has been enjoyable and relaxing so far.

But my time in the night may be my favorite with my little brother. We grew up sharing a room for years, with our bunk beds we would always stay awake late into the nights, either laughing or annoying one another. And now here I find us – sharing a room, again – ages 22 and 21 and on the other side of the world. On the other side of life.

These night times definitely bring me into a bit of a nostalgic state, so thankful for my childhood, for my family, for my brother. Kellen and I both have a ridiculous habit of sleep talking – sleep talking a lot and quite loud actually. So the first night with my American brother in my African home consisted of us waking one another up with our random dreamy bursts and both of us shooting up in our beds, talking in our sleepy state to one another or to ourselves; I guess we’ll never know. A habit formed because of our late night shenanigans as kids; possibly.

And night two didn’t necessarily give me nostalgia for those past childhood days – or make me reminisce on the attributes my brother and I share. But it made me thankful for the people we are today and for the friendship we have developed. Sharing our hearts we talked about life and things we don’t tell others and then to cap off our ‘goodnight-sleep tights’ we prayed (just like those childhood days). But instead of it beginning with ‘now I lay me down to sleep…’ it began with a little more maturity, a little more vulnerability.

I love South Africa. I love surfing. But those things do not match up to the love I have in my heart for my baby brother. I want him to be on every adventure I take for the rest of my life, I want him to have the best and nothing less, I want to know his entire heart and bear all of his burdens.

But for tonight I will sleep soundly – because I am warm in my African home after a day of playing with lions and I have my brother sound asleep right by my side.

Road, show me africa

And so it has carried on. The days have continued, never stopping even in the midst of trials, tribulations, challenges, pleasures, beauty – anything can happen, from death to birth and I feel as if it all has happened within these last 6 months. And none of the events, the occurrences, the people – have made time stop or slow down.

Roy (CSA’s national director, my boss, the man who lives in the flat above me with a beautiful wife & two insane blonde children) had an idea to do a Road Show, to travel up and down South Africa’s coast line – visiting Son Surf clubs, encouraging leaders, running surf competitions and showing Christian surfer films. As the planning went along, more and more holes began to open up, causing a hectic planning period far from the ideal ‘Road Show’ event. Everything, from no vehicle to massive waves, to awful weather, to a tight budget – created an experience I think none of our staff will forget: the first ever trial run for South Africa’s Road Show Tour.

Our first stop was Mossel Bay, a place known for sharks and a rad downtown vibe and great history. So we headed west on the garden route our team split into 3 different vehicles, with another vehicle headed east from Cape Town to meet us. We arrived in cold rain and mammoth size waves. Just in time though to head down the stairs to the basement of a local surf shop where we had our first event: a Son Skate jam session. I think we were all surprised and stoked at how well this event turned out, loads of kids with a couple great skaters who grinded the small ramp and a couple beginners who left snot stains at the bottom. With loads of skating and prizes to hand out we had a blast and then closed our evening with showing the groms the ‘Walking on Water’ dvd and launching CSA’s new ‘When a Surf/Skater gets saved’ promos.

The next day – the surf competition day – was cancelled due to messy, massive waves. So free day for the staff. Had sushi at a pub and a family-vibe night at the house we stayed at. The next day we made it to church, where Roy preached, then headed to the beach for some lunch, sun and surf before getting back on the road to head back to Jbay. And as we headed east, so did the rain.

A few days passed and we were back on that African tar, this time we had 3 cars – one, the one I was in, was myself and 6 men. So all seven of us packed like sardines made the drive to East London. The EL weekend couldn’thave gone more perfect, Friday night we had the opening function – with Janie Bay as entertainment and food and filling in on Saturday’s event.

Saturday the sun shone all day, giving us an American spring day in this south African winter. All day long the sun shone, the waves came in and the surfers had a blast, it was a perfect surf competition – with everything running smoothly and everyone smiling. That night we had the prize giving and the closing function, filled with coffee and chatter to top off the sharing of the gospel and the prize awards. A perfect day followed by a perfect Sunday – off to church (by the way this was a small local church with the entire back wall as a giant window which overlooked a beautiful river and large hills – a beautiful scenery to worship in) after church we had a relaxing Sunday afternoon, filled with naps, walks, surfs, and some rain just in time for our braai.

Monday to Thursday we called the Mdumbi Backpackers home. With tribal huts as our sleeping domain and a small café to keep us out of the noon rain.

I’ve been up South Africa’s entire west coast, up to the northern border – and it was indeed beautiful. And this, the eastern cape, the Transkei can’t really be compared to that, because it was so gravely different in sight and culture but it was indeed just as beautiful. We had to take our 4x4 up and through the back roads, through the gravel and dirt that was dispersed around the pot holes. Taking these barely made roads, we traveled through mountains to get to the top of the Mdumbi. There our backpackers sat, just barely separated from the local tribes and indeginous lifestyle that still exists there. In our little huts we could overlook the sea below, as the hills climbed on forever so did the swells in the ocean’s tide. Every day was full of surfing for part of our group and every night was full of conversation by the fire side that filled our indie, hippie wood carved café with smoke. And every night the stars came out to dance, so glorious and bright and innumerable.

So there’s the outline – just the outline as to what our little adventure of a road show looked like. But within this outline there were many things that happened, many and a plenty things that made this trip unique to the individuals on it and the people we met along the way. So next to come: some colour for this picture.

This picture was taken in Mossel Bay - just around the corner from where our surf competition would have taken place.

This is the judges stand for the East London 'Jesus Retro' surf competition

The roads we took through the Transkei to get to Mdumbi & the backpackers we stayed at

And this is where we surfed - and the beach I ran along in the morning - in Mdumbi