A DAY IN TOWN WITH GRACE
Most Saturdays Rudy goes to town for food, sending e-mails, checking the post office, etc. A friend of ours named Steve Wood (www.dads.org) says that the way to build strong relationships with your children is to include them in your lives. It doesn't have to be all-expenses paid trips to Disneyland; trips to the hardware store and the trash dump will fit the bill and give them fond memories for years to come. Consequently, I usually take one of the two older girls with me on these excursions. On Saturday March 6th, it was Grace's turn.
I asked her the night before if she wanted to go with me, and she said she did. I then told her she needed to get up right away when I woke her up, because we needed to get out in front of the school for transportation. When I woke her up in the morning, she went right to getting dressed, visiting the bathroom, etc. without a complaint.
We got to the bus stop in good time, waited 5 minutes, and Mr. Stan Mamba (our human version of a top-of-the-line Leatherman tool-he can do anything) came by. He is improving his teaching credentials and needs to go to Matsapha (where the University is) most Saturday mornings. He stopped and let us climb in. (Folks who really believe in car seats, close your eyes!) Grace sat on my lap between me and the dashboard, and Mamba and I had a nice conversation. Grace was pleasant and patient, given that the conversation topics (water system, pickup truck auctions, what to do about stray dogs inside the school grounds) didn't address her interests. Mamba dropped us at the highway on-ramp and continued his journey. Before he had pulled away, a kombi headed for Mbabane appeared. After trying unsuccessfully to give Mamba some money for gas, we jumped into the kombi.
Grace and I visited the grocery store first, on the assumption that the crowds would be small at 8:30AM and we might get back home at a decent hour if we didn't have to spend a long time in the checkout line. We left the backpack at a "parcel hut", a place where you pay E5 and can leave the bag in a secure room until you come back for it. We then visited the church, the stationery shop, the garden shop, and the Mbabane Clinic where Ruth will deliver Chipmunk. We put down a E6500 (about $900) deposit for the delivery, and if our expenses fall below that amount, they give us back the change. How's that for simple and effective health care?
After that we visited Metro (Mbabane's version of Sam's Club), where we got some bulk food items. We then checked into the internet cafe for an hour and after that, made a last-minute scramble for ground beef and a bus. We planned a team dinner for the soccer team (more below), and I needed meat for the chili. It turned out that Shining Star bus was leaving for Dlangeni at noon, and the engine was already running. I told the conductor that we wanted to ride it, but that I needed to get my bag from the parcel hut and buy some meat at the butchery 30 yards from the bus. He said they'd hold the bus. Grace sat at the back of the bus (the added pressure of knowing the bus might possibly leave with my kid on it kept me hopping) while I got the last 2 items. An hour and a half later, we were home.
What's the point of this story? The point is, the time was well spent because it was spent with Grace. We had lots of good conversation, and she even got a drink box of vanilla custard to slake her thirst and as a token of my appreciation for her company and good behavior. Steve Wood is right: you can build a good relationship with your child by simply bringing them along with you on your errands. Grace and I had a great time, and the long-term effect of our Saturday morning together will be a better relationship for the rest of our lives. If you have children still in the home, or even children who have left home but come back now and then, take them with you on your next errands-run and see what it can do for your relationship.
SIGNS OF THE TIMES
As we approached Ezulwini with Mamba, we saw a large collection of parked cars off to the right. As our conversation had been on car auctions, I wondered if some Saturday morning used car sale was underway. Mamba spoke up and said "Looks like there was a funeral". Usually, funeral vigils are on Saturday nights with burials on Sunday morning, but sometimes it's a Friday night vigil with a Saturday burial. There is still a lot of death around here, and the HIV rate is still insanely high. I really don't like these kind of reminders.
After Grace and I left the garden store, we headed for the Mbabane Clinic. I felt our time was getting short, so I wanted to move faster. I put Grace on my shoulders and started walking; but between her increased height and size and my increasing age, this arrangement didn't really get us going any faster. She went back to her own foot power. Signs of the times.
KOMBIS, BUSES, AND FOOTPATHS
Monday March 8 was the first day of our school-wide monthly tests. None of my tests were being taken, and I only had to proctor one test. I had some books I wanted to return to friends in Manzini. Mr. Lukhele and I swapped proctoring responsibilities, and off I went!
The visit with friends was great, and I got back to Mbabane in good time to catch a mid-afternoon kombi back to the school. I boarded a kombi about 3PM and we headed out of town.
Unfortunately, a full-size bus had tried to come up the steep, narrow hill into Mbabane and couldn't make it. It had slipped backwards and turned sideways, so the road was blocked. Kombis were on either side of the blockage, so passengers headed for Dlangeni simply walked past the parked bus and got onto a kombi on the other side. They would then carry the passengers to their Dlangeni destinations.
Headmaster Magagula with his 4-door sedan was on the Dlangeni side of the blockage. After I had taken my seat in the Dlangeni-bound kombi, he waved to me to join him on the Mbabane side of the big bus. I hesitated, since I knew I could take this kombi home. But I assumed he was going to the school, and in the interest of cameraderie I left the kombi and met him.
Turns out he was only delivering a package to Mbabane via a taxi he had called. He thought I was trying to get to Manzini/Mbabane, while I thought he was going to the school.
Ah well, time for more travelling fun.
I took the taxi ride back into town, then found a kombi bound for Mbuluzi High School, which sits at the end of the paved road on the other way out to the school. I figured I'd get that far and hope for lifts from passing drivers until I reached the footpath to the school, then walk back to Nsukumbili. And, thanks be to God, that's how it turned out.
After taking to my feet after the brief kombi ride, I was praying "Father, I know it's not your 'job' to dispense fun and comfort to get me out of every mildly-tight spot. At the same time, I don't want to demonstrate a lack of faith dressed up as humility by not asking..." and before I finished the sentence, a pickup truck rolled up behind me. He gave me a lift about half the distance to the trailhead, another pickup covered the second half, and by 7PM I walked in the front door of the house. God is good, and I'm glad I live close enough to town that I can walk home in a pinch. And even though this was an unexpected way to return to school, that walk is always a delight.
SOCCER
The team is doing great! They tied 1-1 in their first game, and they won their second game (on Wed., March 10) 4-2 in Mbabane. They are playing with enthusiasm and more discipline than last year. One particularly talented player had the problem last year of dribbling too much; he has kicked that habit, and it has made the team much better. Another good player from last year has improved a great deal, and he also made a big difference. In two regular games and two friendlies, the team has scored 11 goals. This is exciting! They face Mbabane Central High School next Wednesday. This will be a real test, as some players on town high schools also play in Swaziland's professional league (boggles your American mind, doesn't it? Imagine Michael Jordan and David Robinson playing on your opponent's high school team). They will have to guard well when they are on defense (not something they are in the habit of doing), or Central might score a passle of goals on them. Still, if they can pull it together they might earn a tie or even a surprise win.
For whatever reason, even though I resigned from the coaching job, Mr. Khumalo and the new coach are open to input from me. I keep it limited and always express support for the team. I like it that way. I'm beginning to think I'm a much better supporting person than a leading person. We did host a team dinner on Tuesday afternoon, and it went very well. The living room was surprisingly clean afterward, given the number of people (over 20) in a 240 square foot room and the fact that every person had a cup of juice and a bowl of chili and salad. After watching the first half of a 2002 World Cup soccer game while downing chili, the starting lineup was announced and players were encouraged to make whatever comments they felt were appropriate. The guys were serious in their words; they were ready to play.
The next day, they were tied 1-1 at halftime and went down a goal early in the second half. But they didn't wilt, and scored 3 to seal the win. Two of the goals came from dead-ball situations. A "dead-ball situation" is when, either because the ball went out of bounds or a player was fouled, one team gets to kick the ball while opposing players must stand at least 10 yards away. Once the ball is kicked, action resumes. The two goals resulted when Mbeji took the kick and his half-brother Bheki put the ball in the goal with his head. The final goal was scored by S'dumo. Before the game, s'dumo was putting on his "shin guards": two portions of cardboard torn from a box he found laying beside the soccer field. Players are required to have shin guards, and S'dumo didn't have a regulation pair of them. I am reminded of a former coach of mine (Pete Plunkett, I think) who said sometimes a Reader's Digest ripped in half down the spine is all the shinguards you need. Now I know it's true.
NSUKUMHILLBILLY
Friday morning, Kit was fascinated looking at a watch in stopwatch mode resting on Ruth's (big) belly. When Cub starting playing with the watch, Kit cried "You're taking off my T.V.!"
Hillbilly
We have been discussing plans for where to stay in town after Chipmunk's birth. Grace, upon learning we will likely spend a few days in a hotel room overlooking the street, excitedly said "We can watch the cars go by. We could do that for 2 or 3 hours. We don't do that very often."
Hillbilly
Saturday, March 20, 2010
REESE MATTHEWS
While I was walking to church with Grace and Cub last Sunday, we passed a group of folks returning from a funeral. A man in his 30s asked me if I knew Reese Matthews; I told him that I did remember him, though I had not seen him for many years. Reese was a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching at Mdzimba High School in the early 1990s. The man happily told me that Reese had taught him science, and that he had earned a credit in that subject on his O-Level tests. If anyone has contact with Reese (I'm thinking of you former Swaziland PCVs), let him know his efforts bore fruit. I suspect many of us, PCVs and otherwise, have had long-term positive impacts on people, whether we know it or not.
TO CATCH A THIEF
Well, not exactly. On the same Sunday we learned of Reese Matthew's good influence, we spent an hour or so with the Mubiru's at their home at Mdzimba High School. Mrs. Mubiru was the last one out of the house as we prepared to return to Nsukumbili, and Mr. Mubiru asked her for the car keys. A moment of dismay ensued; she thought he had the keys, and so she had locked the house. The bunch of keys which had the car keys on it was locked in the house, and that bunch was in the back door door lock, 15 feet from the front door. We could see them, but we could not reach them. What to do?
We went around the house, looking for a way in. All the windows have burglar bars on them, and most of the windows were latched shut-except for one. If we could find a child small enough to fit through the burglar bars, they could take the keys out of the back door and we'd be on our way.
Hope, our youngest, would easily fit through, but we thought it doubtful she could follow our instructions well enough to get to the keys. We then checked if Cubby's head would fit through one of the diamond-shaped holes in the burglar bars; it did. In she went! When her entire body was inside, she turned around and faced us and had an absolutely radiant smile on her face. I wish I had had a camera. She collected the keys, we breathed a collective sigh of relief, and we got back to Nsukumbili without further incident.
FIRST SIBHULUJA
Sibhuluja is SiSwati for "ear of corn". We were wandering around the school garden with agriculture teacher Mr. Khumalo, discussing with him where we might put in a fenced-in area for fruit tree trials. Why would we put a fenced-in area inside a fenced-in area? Because the students use the school garden, and if a half-dozen fruit trees were there, they might find the temptation to partake of the fruit too tempting. This of course would throw off our agricultural trials and give us cause for generalized frustration and suspicion of students. We don't want either of those, so we asked Khumalo if we could put in the fence. He was enthusiastic.
I figured we would give him one of the ears of corn from our small corn plot as a token of appreciation. I simply pulled one off its stalk and husked it. It was a deep red color, because a couple years ago a student gave me one such corn cob. I really liked that color, and so we planted some of the seeds (see photo at http://poglitshphotos.blogspot.com) Ruth said we couldn't give it to Khumalo because we neded to weigh it first, and Khumalo was understanding. I really liked that sibhuluja; I think "Indian corn" is really neat. Turns out this was one of only a few such corn cobs with this color.
OPERATION BURNING SPEAR
The day Khumalo and Ruth and I went to the garden to site the proposed fenced-in area, a few wasps left their nests on the outside of our house and came after me. I prefer to leave wasp nests alone, as long as they do not bother us. Ruth says they eat caterpillars that would otherwise eat plants in her garden. Once they get aggressive like this, though, it's eviction time.
The next morning I took a stick and wrapped a rag around one end, fastening it with a bit of wire (see photo at http://poglitshphotos.blogspot.com) I then doused the rag with lamp oil and lit it up. I then held my burning spear just below the wasp nest. The wasps, naturally, begin to flee their building; as the come close to the fire, they roast their wings and fall to the ground. After the nest was empty I dispatched the fallen wasps with a can of Doom (like Raid). We have had no further problems from the wasps on that side of the house. Interestingly, the other side of the house has even more nests and more wasps, but those on that side never give us problems.
CULINARY ZOOLOGY
Sounds like an upper-level elective class at a small liberal arts college in the northeast, right? Actually, it was a 10-minute seminar class my form 5 biology students gave me this week. We are going over the classification system of plants and animals, and I am using a full-color book chock full of great pictures of animals from around the world. After class the students wanted to see photos of the mongooses. My only real connection with mongooses is the Rudyard Kipling story of Riki-Tiki-Tavi, the Indian mongoose which takes on some nasty cobras. This area has mongooses, though, and the students wanted to see photos. Turns out the mongooses here are a bit of a pest. They found the photos and excitedly said "Ah, there it is!" After a few comments, they said "It is delicious." They chow those things! In a book which frequently mentions the endangered status of various anmimals, they were commenting on how, in fact, there is room for all wildlife in Dlangeni; right next to the corn porridge and cooked greens. This served as a fresh reminder that even though this is a high school, the surrounding culture is different from the one I grew up in.
CHIPPIE BUMPS
After our evening Bible reading and prayer, we all give each other hugs and kisses and then pack the girls into bed. Ruth is getting quite big now-Dr. Wasswa says the baby could come anytime now-and the latest Poglitsh edition makes his or her presence known with various moving bumps in Ruth's belly. The girls look forward to meeting "Chipmunk", and until that time they give Ruth a kiss on the belly. The girls like to see if they can find a "Chippie bump" to give a kiss; if they find an appendage making its appearance by causing a small distension of Ruth's stomach, they quickly give it a peck. It reminds me of that game "Whack the Mole" you can occasionally find at amusement parks, where a half-dozen mechanical moles randomly poke their heads out of holes and you earn points by whomping them down with a thickly-padded mallet. Our version is, of course, a little gentler.
While I was walking to church with Grace and Cub last Sunday, we passed a group of folks returning from a funeral. A man in his 30s asked me if I knew Reese Matthews; I told him that I did remember him, though I had not seen him for many years. Reese was a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching at Mdzimba High School in the early 1990s. The man happily told me that Reese had taught him science, and that he had earned a credit in that subject on his O-Level tests. If anyone has contact with Reese (I'm thinking of you former Swaziland PCVs), let him know his efforts bore fruit. I suspect many of us, PCVs and otherwise, have had long-term positive impacts on people, whether we know it or not.
TO CATCH A THIEF
Well, not exactly. On the same Sunday we learned of Reese Matthew's good influence, we spent an hour or so with the Mubiru's at their home at Mdzimba High School. Mrs. Mubiru was the last one out of the house as we prepared to return to Nsukumbili, and Mr. Mubiru asked her for the car keys. A moment of dismay ensued; she thought he had the keys, and so she had locked the house. The bunch of keys which had the car keys on it was locked in the house, and that bunch was in the back door door lock, 15 feet from the front door. We could see them, but we could not reach them. What to do?
We went around the house, looking for a way in. All the windows have burglar bars on them, and most of the windows were latched shut-except for one. If we could find a child small enough to fit through the burglar bars, they could take the keys out of the back door and we'd be on our way.
Hope, our youngest, would easily fit through, but we thought it doubtful she could follow our instructions well enough to get to the keys. We then checked if Cubby's head would fit through one of the diamond-shaped holes in the burglar bars; it did. In she went! When her entire body was inside, she turned around and faced us and had an absolutely radiant smile on her face. I wish I had had a camera. She collected the keys, we breathed a collective sigh of relief, and we got back to Nsukumbili without further incident.
FIRST SIBHULUJA
Sibhuluja is SiSwati for "ear of corn". We were wandering around the school garden with agriculture teacher Mr. Khumalo, discussing with him where we might put in a fenced-in area for fruit tree trials. Why would we put a fenced-in area inside a fenced-in area? Because the students use the school garden, and if a half-dozen fruit trees were there, they might find the temptation to partake of the fruit too tempting. This of course would throw off our agricultural trials and give us cause for generalized frustration and suspicion of students. We don't want either of those, so we asked Khumalo if we could put in the fence. He was enthusiastic.
I figured we would give him one of the ears of corn from our small corn plot as a token of appreciation. I simply pulled one off its stalk and husked it. It was a deep red color, because a couple years ago a student gave me one such corn cob. I really liked that color, and so we planted some of the seeds (see photo at http://poglitshphotos.blogspot.com) Ruth said we couldn't give it to Khumalo because we neded to weigh it first, and Khumalo was understanding. I really liked that sibhuluja; I think "Indian corn" is really neat. Turns out this was one of only a few such corn cobs with this color.
OPERATION BURNING SPEAR
The day Khumalo and Ruth and I went to the garden to site the proposed fenced-in area, a few wasps left their nests on the outside of our house and came after me. I prefer to leave wasp nests alone, as long as they do not bother us. Ruth says they eat caterpillars that would otherwise eat plants in her garden. Once they get aggressive like this, though, it's eviction time.
The next morning I took a stick and wrapped a rag around one end, fastening it with a bit of wire (see photo at http://poglitshphotos.blogspot.com) I then doused the rag with lamp oil and lit it up. I then held my burning spear just below the wasp nest. The wasps, naturally, begin to flee their building; as the come close to the fire, they roast their wings and fall to the ground. After the nest was empty I dispatched the fallen wasps with a can of Doom (like Raid). We have had no further problems from the wasps on that side of the house. Interestingly, the other side of the house has even more nests and more wasps, but those on that side never give us problems.
CULINARY ZOOLOGY
Sounds like an upper-level elective class at a small liberal arts college in the northeast, right? Actually, it was a 10-minute seminar class my form 5 biology students gave me this week. We are going over the classification system of plants and animals, and I am using a full-color book chock full of great pictures of animals from around the world. After class the students wanted to see photos of the mongooses. My only real connection with mongooses is the Rudyard Kipling story of Riki-Tiki-Tavi, the Indian mongoose which takes on some nasty cobras. This area has mongooses, though, and the students wanted to see photos. Turns out the mongooses here are a bit of a pest. They found the photos and excitedly said "Ah, there it is!" After a few comments, they said "It is delicious." They chow those things! In a book which frequently mentions the endangered status of various anmimals, they were commenting on how, in fact, there is room for all wildlife in Dlangeni; right next to the corn porridge and cooked greens. This served as a fresh reminder that even though this is a high school, the surrounding culture is different from the one I grew up in.
CHIPPIE BUMPS
After our evening Bible reading and prayer, we all give each other hugs and kisses and then pack the girls into bed. Ruth is getting quite big now-Dr. Wasswa says the baby could come anytime now-and the latest Poglitsh edition makes his or her presence known with various moving bumps in Ruth's belly. The girls look forward to meeting "Chipmunk", and until that time they give Ruth a kiss on the belly. The girls like to see if they can find a "Chippie bump" to give a kiss; if they find an appendage making its appearance by causing a small distension of Ruth's stomach, they quickly give it a peck. It reminds me of that game "Whack the Mole" you can occasionally find at amusement parks, where a half-dozen mechanical moles randomly poke their heads out of holes and you earn points by whomping them down with a thickly-padded mallet. Our version is, of course, a little gentler.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
CHIPMUNK
We are about a month from the due date for Chipmunk and have started to lay some plans. The Mubiru's, friends who teach down the road, have agreed to take the girls while Ruth and I go to town for the delivery. The Mubiru's will then bring the girls in after the birth to meet their new sibling. Some other friends have agreed to let us stay with them before the delivery, and we're not sure what we'll do afterward, but the City Inn (a hotel smack dab in the middle of town) has been nice in the past. What a treat to let other people cook, wash dishes, and all that other stuff when you have a new, high-maintenance member of the family and a WIPED OUT mom!
I looked at a calendar a while ago and noticed that April 4 (the estimated due date) is Easter Sunday. If Chipmunk is a girl, we had previously decided that one of her names would be Anastasia-which means "Resurrection". We really don't mind if the child is a boy or a girl, but the "coincidence" of the name and the date would make a girl nice-as would the fact that we have a space and clothes for a girl all set. We will let you know how things go.
FAMILY STRUCTURE
I include two articles from the Times of Swaziland, the national newspaper of the country. They deal with family structure in Swaziland. It's not a pretty picture, as the head of NERCHA (the government agency dealing with HIV/AIDS) explains. We hope men step up and take care of their wives and children; it's better for everyone.
One Catch-22 we seem to have noticed is that as men aren't too involved at home, women shoulder a lot of domestic duties and are targeted for developmental aid; and because of that, men don't get as much attention, and they drop further out of the picture. Reaching men would be a boon for them AND their families.
ANOTHER EXTRA
I also include parts of a recent newsletter from our SMA (Society of African Missions) friends. The article "Development-Not An Easy Road" is a real and representative story about the challenges of "getting ahead" in Africa.
SOCCER AND NETBALL
The ball games are underway! Usually these school sports take place during the second term, but this year they will be finished before school gets out in April. The reason for the accelerated completion is that the sponsor (Coca-Cola) wants the high school season wrapped up so they can concentrate on the World Cup which begins in June. Fair enough.
The school played its first cames on the 26th; the boys soccer team tied 1-1 against (I haven't seen it written, so bear with me) Nhlanganisweni High School, while the girls netball team lost. This is something of a change from last year, when the girls got as far as the quarterfinals, while the boys crashed out in the first round. I didn't see either game (was home nursing a sore knee-more later), but I was glad to see boys scored a goal, even though it was a tie. That is a good sign. Hope the girls can pull it together.
Ruth was walking down the road a few days ago and saw the soccer team practicing-running, that is. This year's coach is doing a great job. The team faces Mbabane Central High School next week. The city teams are often pretty good, because (according to our rural students) they've never had to herd cattle or goats or plow, plant, and weed maize; they've spent their youth playing soccer, while our boys have been raising food. Still, if our young men can combine their fitness and skills with teamwork, they may be able to surprise some teams. I cannot remember a time that Nsukumbili got out of the first round of play; maybe this year.
SORE KNEE
In early December I ran down the road on the way to fix the water system. My knee was a little sore, but I didn't pay too much attention to it, and the soreness went away. About 3 weeks ago I went running on a Friday morning and was fine, but by noon it was so painful I could hardly walk. It swelled up some, but there was no bruising. I laid in bed Saturday and Sunday. The swelling went away and I was back to normal. I laid off the running and starting riding a bike, which gave me no trouble.
Last Wednesday the school soccer team had a "friendly" game with a local club. I was asked to referee, and I did. I consciously took it easy on the knee, and had no trouble during the match. As we put the kids to bed, though, things started feeling not quite right, and by the early afternoon on Thursday I was hobbled again. Back to bed, on my back, with the knee propped up on pillows, and ibuprofen going down my gullet like Sweetarts candy. Once again the swelling and the pain went away by late Saturday, but I have given up even trying running for 6 months. This is a little bit of a disappointment, but not a huge one; I really like to walk (which I want to be able to keep doing) and the bike keeps me in good shape. I have imagined going running with the girls, and that may still happen-later this year. Still, the walking is such a pleasure, and I want to be able to keep doing that. So the running will go, as will the refereeing.
Tangentially I was pleased with the reffing; I botched only 2 calls, and everyone went home happy and with only one minor injury (other than mine).
LENT
This is the Lenten season for many Christians. Lent is the 40 days before Easter, the same length of time Jesus spent in the desert after His baptism. This is a special time for purifying our lives, of confessing and driving out the sin and dross and replacing it with greater openness to and love for God.
Each night before retiring, Ruth and I read from a small devotional book. Following is a passage from Saint Ambrose, the bishop of Milan, Italy from 374 to 397. The Matthew referred to is the tax collector, the one who immediately left his job and followed Christ when Christ called him:
"Like him [Matthew], I too want to leave behind my old life, and follow no-one but you, O Lord, who cure my wounds. Who will ever separate me from the love of God which I find in you...? I am bound to the Faith, nailed to the Faith; I am bound by the holy bonds of love. All of your Commandments will be like a cauterising iron whose touch I will bear always on my body...medicine stings, but draws out the infection from the wound. Cut away, Lord Jesus, the putrefaction of my sins. For as long as you hold me bound by love, cut away any infection that is in me. Come soon to lance my many secret and hidden passions, and cut into the wound, so that the disease may not spread to the whole of my body...I have found a Physician who dwells in heaven, but who distributes his medicines on earth. He alone can cure my wounds because He does not suffer from them; He alone can take all sorrow away from my heart and all fear from my soul, because He knows me in the very depths of my being."
Perhaps this can be your time of turning over your wounds, your sins and your life to the Great Physician. He will give you a new and fulfilling life through relationship with Him.
NSUKUMHILLBILLY
Your needlenose pliers are much more frequently used for crushing ticks you pick off yourself and family members than for handyman tasks.
Hillbilly
Your eldest daughter can spot these 1/4 inch long ticks on the seedheads of grass-stalks overhanging the trail to church; she tells you "I see three" and, after straining your incredulous 40-something eyes, you realize she's right.
Six-Million-Dollar-Woman-Bionic-Eyes Hillbilly
Have a good day,
Rudy
We are about a month from the due date for Chipmunk and have started to lay some plans. The Mubiru's, friends who teach down the road, have agreed to take the girls while Ruth and I go to town for the delivery. The Mubiru's will then bring the girls in after the birth to meet their new sibling. Some other friends have agreed to let us stay with them before the delivery, and we're not sure what we'll do afterward, but the City Inn (a hotel smack dab in the middle of town) has been nice in the past. What a treat to let other people cook, wash dishes, and all that other stuff when you have a new, high-maintenance member of the family and a WIPED OUT mom!
I looked at a calendar a while ago and noticed that April 4 (the estimated due date) is Easter Sunday. If Chipmunk is a girl, we had previously decided that one of her names would be Anastasia-which means "Resurrection". We really don't mind if the child is a boy or a girl, but the "coincidence" of the name and the date would make a girl nice-as would the fact that we have a space and clothes for a girl all set. We will let you know how things go.
FAMILY STRUCTURE
I include two articles from the Times of Swaziland, the national newspaper of the country. They deal with family structure in Swaziland. It's not a pretty picture, as the head of NERCHA (the government agency dealing with HIV/AIDS) explains. We hope men step up and take care of their wives and children; it's better for everyone.
One Catch-22 we seem to have noticed is that as men aren't too involved at home, women shoulder a lot of domestic duties and are targeted for developmental aid; and because of that, men don't get as much attention, and they drop further out of the picture. Reaching men would be a boon for them AND their families.
ANOTHER EXTRA
I also include parts of a recent newsletter from our SMA (Society of African Missions) friends. The article "Development-Not An Easy Road" is a real and representative story about the challenges of "getting ahead" in Africa.
SOCCER AND NETBALL
The ball games are underway! Usually these school sports take place during the second term, but this year they will be finished before school gets out in April. The reason for the accelerated completion is that the sponsor (Coca-Cola) wants the high school season wrapped up so they can concentrate on the World Cup which begins in June. Fair enough.
The school played its first cames on the 26th; the boys soccer team tied 1-1 against (I haven't seen it written, so bear with me) Nhlanganisweni High School, while the girls netball team lost. This is something of a change from last year, when the girls got as far as the quarterfinals, while the boys crashed out in the first round. I didn't see either game (was home nursing a sore knee-more later), but I was glad to see boys scored a goal, even though it was a tie. That is a good sign. Hope the girls can pull it together.
Ruth was walking down the road a few days ago and saw the soccer team practicing-running, that is. This year's coach is doing a great job. The team faces Mbabane Central High School next week. The city teams are often pretty good, because (according to our rural students) they've never had to herd cattle or goats or plow, plant, and weed maize; they've spent their youth playing soccer, while our boys have been raising food. Still, if our young men can combine their fitness and skills with teamwork, they may be able to surprise some teams. I cannot remember a time that Nsukumbili got out of the first round of play; maybe this year.
SORE KNEE
In early December I ran down the road on the way to fix the water system. My knee was a little sore, but I didn't pay too much attention to it, and the soreness went away. About 3 weeks ago I went running on a Friday morning and was fine, but by noon it was so painful I could hardly walk. It swelled up some, but there was no bruising. I laid in bed Saturday and Sunday. The swelling went away and I was back to normal. I laid off the running and starting riding a bike, which gave me no trouble.
Last Wednesday the school soccer team had a "friendly" game with a local club. I was asked to referee, and I did. I consciously took it easy on the knee, and had no trouble during the match. As we put the kids to bed, though, things started feeling not quite right, and by the early afternoon on Thursday I was hobbled again. Back to bed, on my back, with the knee propped up on pillows, and ibuprofen going down my gullet like Sweetarts candy. Once again the swelling and the pain went away by late Saturday, but I have given up even trying running for 6 months. This is a little bit of a disappointment, but not a huge one; I really like to walk (which I want to be able to keep doing) and the bike keeps me in good shape. I have imagined going running with the girls, and that may still happen-later this year. Still, the walking is such a pleasure, and I want to be able to keep doing that. So the running will go, as will the refereeing.
Tangentially I was pleased with the reffing; I botched only 2 calls, and everyone went home happy and with only one minor injury (other than mine).
LENT
This is the Lenten season for many Christians. Lent is the 40 days before Easter, the same length of time Jesus spent in the desert after His baptism. This is a special time for purifying our lives, of confessing and driving out the sin and dross and replacing it with greater openness to and love for God.
Each night before retiring, Ruth and I read from a small devotional book. Following is a passage from Saint Ambrose, the bishop of Milan, Italy from 374 to 397. The Matthew referred to is the tax collector, the one who immediately left his job and followed Christ when Christ called him:
"Like him [Matthew], I too want to leave behind my old life, and follow no-one but you, O Lord, who cure my wounds. Who will ever separate me from the love of God which I find in you...? I am bound to the Faith, nailed to the Faith; I am bound by the holy bonds of love. All of your Commandments will be like a cauterising iron whose touch I will bear always on my body...medicine stings, but draws out the infection from the wound. Cut away, Lord Jesus, the putrefaction of my sins. For as long as you hold me bound by love, cut away any infection that is in me. Come soon to lance my many secret and hidden passions, and cut into the wound, so that the disease may not spread to the whole of my body...I have found a Physician who dwells in heaven, but who distributes his medicines on earth. He alone can cure my wounds because He does not suffer from them; He alone can take all sorrow away from my heart and all fear from my soul, because He knows me in the very depths of my being."
Perhaps this can be your time of turning over your wounds, your sins and your life to the Great Physician. He will give you a new and fulfilling life through relationship with Him.
NSUKUMHILLBILLY
Your needlenose pliers are much more frequently used for crushing ticks you pick off yourself and family members than for handyman tasks.
Hillbilly
Your eldest daughter can spot these 1/4 inch long ticks on the seedheads of grass-stalks overhanging the trail to church; she tells you "I see three" and, after straining your incredulous 40-something eyes, you realize she's right.
Six-Million-Dollar-Woman-Bionic-Eyes Hillbilly
Have a good day,
Rudy
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