"This African city is number 8 out of the 10 top cities in the world to visit."

"What is Cape Town?"

We have a winner!!

I went to Cape Town this past weekend. Me and three friends caught a plane early Friday morning and made it to Cape Town an hour later (after having delayed our flights by a few minutes). We sat in the airport, somewhere near our gate until suddenly, "This is the last call for passenger Carmichael and passenger Carson..." It's okay though, we're allowed to be confused. TIA!*

Anyways, we arrived in the busy city an hour and twelve minutes later, caught my very first taxi cab ever, drove to our courtyard-filled hostel and rested for a millisecond before taking off to get our first whiff of... say it with me... Cape Town!

We strolled up and down Long Street, visited a few shops, a few stands, a few healthy restaurants and then walked back to the hostel, map in hand, folded out across our arms like a good tourist always should. We traveled back to the airport (quite an unfortunate drive), picked up our rental car (we rented a car... like bonafide grown-ups) and DROVE back to Cape Town. We went straight to the Waterfront and found The Green Dolphin, a jazz restaurant that had been recommended to us. Four plates of ravioli out of four! And to top it off, a milkshake instead of wine (we are still in a program, people! Tsk tsk!) Then we strolled the Waterfront for a bit and didn't get mugged. It could have happened, but we had a boy with us. He did a good job. And when those ladies tried to pull us away (they had a sad story), Ryan pulled us back and told us their scheme. Don't worry, parents! I may be naïve but at least I'm helpful!

We slept in a hostel! Our beds were a foot bigger than what we've been used to for the past 2 months, and about 4 feet closer to the ground. Hallelujah! And though we were on vacation, we did not sleep in. There was much to see and little time to see it. We got up, said bye to our hostel friends and took off... for the aquarium! Great white sharks! African penguins! Need I say more? Then we headed down to the beach. Someone said Clifton, beach 4. We didn't know what that meant, but we hopped in our white Toyota Yaris (which I like to call Prius) and somehow found our destination. Then we layed out on the beach for... an hour... maybe two... maybe three or four. Who remembers? We hoped we would tan a little bit before we had to go back. As I write this to you, sitting on my bed in UCSA, unable to move too much on account of the sunburn all over my body, I'd like to advise you to wear sunscreen in the hot African sun. Remember people, November is summer.

That night was the Hillsong concert. Amazing!! It was too bad we were writhing in pain from sunburn, but we still enjoyed their great sound and bought a few Hillsong paraphernalia. Then we stopped at the golden arch, the beloved, long-lost Mickey-Ds. Ever had an Oreo McFlurry in Africa? It tastes just like a Canadian one!!

Sleepy-sleep and then we woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning! Unfortunately, much was left to this day, so we needed to split up. Jess went to church while La and I made our way to the top of Table Mountain, (or should I say Plateau?) We sat there among the clouds, looking out at God's creation, the land of Africa and decided it best to have a very long, very deep conversation. We even tried taping it for your enjoyment, but such things never manage to work out too well. Once we dismounted the mountain, mountain, mountain, we drove back to the hostel, threw Jessica in the back seat and took off for the most southern part of Africa, where two oceans meet. Cape Point here we come! It was a long drive through wine country, a short peek at the Atlantic Ocean, a quick jaunt through penguin sanctuary and a final race to see the sunset. Once the day was almost over, we grabbed some grub in Camps Bay (quite the social scene) and decided we were too tired to socialize, so off to bed we went.

Waking up to the knowledge that the vacation was already over, quite a bummer! But the long drive home was lovely, as always is driving on the WRONG side of the road! We even saw a wild elephant. You might not believe us. It's not a common thing to see on the Garden route but we saw it. It had tusks and everything. No big deal. We're in Africa.

Moral of the story, live life! There are some people on this trip who have been convicted not to spend money on themselves, especially when they see so many people in need. How much I respect them for that! But we musn't take on other peoples convictions for ourselves, even when they sound so good. They Holy Spirit may have other plans for us. In fact, I felt convicted to GO to Cape Town and I know it wasn't to minister to anyone. First of all, I needed a vacation, a getaway from the only thing I've known for the past few months. Secondly, I never want to look back on life and regret. If I ever do, who will have to suffer for the angry person I become when I regret my life at an older age? The Lord may one day bring me back to South Africa so I can visit Cape Town, but I doubt it. This may have very well been my only chance. It was last minute, it was done with very little money, it was hardly planned out at all. But it may have been one of the best things for me thus far! It was great, it was great, it was great! And really, it's times like these, I'm reminded, Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name! Blessed be your name! Thank you. Thank you so much!

Beat the Drum

I tried to come up with the worst disease ever. I did my best to do so objectively, with no other diseases in thought, mind you I feel the need to mention I am no science major (and all that that implies). First of all, this disease would have to be initiated by some sort of a virus because that way, one can "catch" the virus and thus point blame on the issue or area that caused the "catching" of what would not have otherwise been "caught". Secondly, this virus would have to develop into a disease in which its soul aim is to attack the immune system; that way, there's no limit to the illnesses one can acquire. Lastly, this disease would be only too perfect if it were highly contagious. In fact, if it were something you could catch through the air, the disease would spread like wildfire and devour so many more than one can even imagine. If you haven't already guessed, my best idea of the worst disease ever almost accurately depicts the HIV virus and its manifestation, AIDS. Although one can not become HIV+ by breathing in the virus, it's almost worse that a person acquires it through sexual contact, for this also spreads the disease like wildfire and devours more than one can imagine. But attached to it is the shame of having had sex and "bringing it upon yourself", or so others may judge.

Last week, my team and so many others had the opportunity to run an AIDS awareness/ abstinence program called ‘Beat the Drum.' The Lord had gone before us and decided upon a small town, three hours from Jeffreys Bay, called Somerset East. One cannot even begin to describe all the logistics and planning and hours of meetings that went into running this program, which only lasted for the whole of last week. Fortunately, I was left out of that end of it and only arrived upon the practical part of the program, which was to bring it into the schools. We learned the curriculum over the weekend and jumped into our schools on Monday. My team was based in the next town, called Cookhouse. According to recent statistics, Cookhouse has the highest percentage of those infected with AIDS in a country that has the highest percentage of those infected with AIDS in the world. Our school was Cookhouse High, our mission: to minister to those kids about abstinence, AIDS and the one message we bring with us wherever we go: Jesus Christ.

After getting off to a rough start in which our Beat the Drum movie didn't play all the way through, to an audience of only a third of the school, we were eventually able to get up to date in the curriculum. We lost a day in showing the movie a second time (all the way through to the whole school) and lost another day in confusion between classes and who was teaching who. For the last two days, I was on my own with a class of grade eights who for the most part, did not understand English very well. I was in my glory. Our first day, we did a few "ice breakers" and then all the kids got in a circle and were told that the discussion belonged to them. They could talk about anything they wanted to talk about as long as they were holding the "magic sunglasses." If they weren't holding them, they couldn't say a word. My students were very shy with the occasional jolt of rowdiness. We spoke mostly on sex and AIDS. The consensus was that the boys believed sex to be good and the girls believed it to be bad, (in so many words). My most shocking moment was that no one had told these kids that condoms don't actually work all the time. ( One would assume that this information would be crucial in the AIDS capital of the WORLD!) Other than that, the kids had fun for the most part and my hope was that it got them thinking. The last day was very similar; after a few embarrassing sex questions and, of course, bribing them with some chocolates so that they'd talk, it was the end of our time together. The students were sad to see us go, but fortunately right after class that day, we had the opportunity to transport many of the students to Somerset East to be tested for HIV. I don't believe I have ever prayed so hard for so many kids at once as I did in that hall that day. It had been packed full of people for hours, all voluntarily lining up to be tested. I had a new understanding of this disease when I sat with kids much younger than myself, holding their hands and feeling them shake as they stared at the contraption that in a few moments could change their life forever. They were preparing to face what either would be their biggest relief or their most dreaded nightmare. I prayed for their little bodies to be healed, if at all they were infected; I never had the horror of seeing any of those kids be told they were positive, although it did happen. Why it's normal for a kid in Africa to be tested for HIV several times before they even graduate high school and for a kid in America or Canada to not even know what HIV means, I see no justice. This has to end. There is too much and it is too much. This has to end.

In times like these, I think of Nelson Mandella and apartheid, Martin Luther and the dominion of the Catholic church, Abraham Lincoln and a country divided, Martin Luther King and racial segregation; these men didn't choose their issues, they only chose to make a difference. In our time, our issue is AIDS. If you think you're exempt from this 23 year-old disease (which has already become a pandemic), then you would be wrong. It may be more prominent in Sub-Saharan Africa than it is in small town Canada/ America but it's there. It's lurking and it's only a matter of time before our world is consumed. It needs to end.

I want to live here. I've been in Africa for a month now, and still every time I turn around and see the view, I like to call out to the infinite sea or the endless mountains and say: "Shut.... UP! I'm in Africa!" The time here has just flown by. Just to let all my fans know, this part of my trip (and for the next 2 months) is called ‘The Awakening;' and that it is, my dear readers, that it is. Our days are often spent more in prayer, reading and lessons rather than actual ministry. The point is to learn about being a missionary before actually being a missionary. What have I learned thus far? All I can say is... we're getting our moneys worth, friends. Even at this point of the trip, I could not possibly go home the same person. God has really attacked me in this place.

Although a lot of our time is spent surrounded by several Americans (and 6 Canadians including myself), we have succeeded (somewhat) in integrating ourselves into African culture. My part to play is volunteering at the local health clinic, in Pellsrus. I and two other lovely ladies walk the short distance to the clinic Monday through Friday from 1pm until closing time, which is only at 3:45, where we have the option of leaving for one of the nurses' homes or going into the community and visiting some people. Our ministry is over by 5pm and then we have some free time until dinner. Believe me, 4 hours is tiring enough for now. Our duties at the clinic involve asking the nurses (or sisters) if there's anything we can do for them and them continuously telling us either that there is nothing left to do or that we can sweep something. The clinic is most definitely one of the harder ministries in that it is much more trying to reach the people in that place. Our nurses are most content with ignoring us as are the patients, who most of the time, just want to leave and not be noticed. The area is primarily black (Xhosa), with a few colored (Afrikaaners) and even some white Afrikaaners. Our nurses have informed us (upon our asking) that they mostly deal with issues of pregnancy, HIV, TB and diarrhea. There's even a section in the clinic meant for TB patients, waiting for TB treatment. As we all know, it is a highly contagious disease, therefore the TB section is in the back, separated from the other patients by a small hallway. This should be sufficient for everyone in this fairly small clinic, TB is only a highly contagious, airborne illness in a building where most people are already suffering from HIV/ AIDS. Obviously, it's a place with much needed help. Every day, we pray for the nurses and for every single patient that will step through those doors. There is so much need, we hardly know where to start. Most of the time, it's just about listening to the endless stories of one person as the hours drag on and they're still waiting to see the doctor (most will not). I love that God has placed me here, but it's hard.

                                                                                                                                                                                         The rest of our team is mostly involved in kid's ministries and have the best stories at the end of the day! One of our ministries is called house visits, which literally means going door to door in the townships. The area in question is not far from where we stay but a world apart. We are not allowed there past dark because for the most part, the women are indoors and the men are running to and from the notorious taverns. The house visits team have some of the most miraculous stories of the group. In North America, one is hesitant to answer the door to a missionary of sorts, however South Africa has a much different attitude. Our neighbors are in so much need, they don't question our belief in God, they only want prayer and perhaps a little help around the house. Oh the stories of the rooftops some have fixed up in the middle of a storm, the mattress some have bought for the sick people who slept on the cement floor and the lady who told me and my ministry partners that she had just found out that very day that she was HIV+. With her, you almost could not tell the emotion, she took it extremely well. But with her eyes continuously to the floor and the salt water that fell onto her lap, she gave it away. These people are so hurt and we are in the midst of it. We are all so excited to make a difference until we see the actual need and how very unable we are to do anything. Thank goodness we have a God who seeks no qualifications. We are learning about our own humility and God's strength, who by the way, has physically and emotionally healed several people since the time we got here.  Ask me more if you must. I'm simply trying to convey as best as I can, every day here is riveting.