Kairos - A Time in Between

My days are full of joy and underwear

2010-07-13T20:46:00.000-07:00

Hello Dear Ones,

The last week or so has been full of all sorts of fun and adventure!

I took a trip to Nasvhille, to visit the beautiful Lynn Russell who is interning at a Christian Record label over the summer. What joy to see a Seattle friend in my home state! We bummed around downtown Franklin (a little town near Nashville) with Lynn's lovely intern friends, dressed up like cows for free chick-fil-a, listened to some live Johnny Cash covers, ate copious amounts of frozen yogurt, and laughed - a lot. I, unfortunately, got so caught up in the excitement that I forgot to take many pictures. . . . I intend to steal some from Lynn's friend, Marie, who took some with her camera. I have a few though:

We just can't escape the rain. . .

I love this girl.

New friends: Amanda and Marie. We delighted in some homey southern food. I love me some grits.

Then, Lynn came home with me and spent a couple days in Jackson! One of the days was spent getting her car fixed. We found ways to entertain ourselves at the dealership:

A couple days ago, Emily, Will, and I went to see their brother Andrew's dress rehearsal of "Lil' Abner"

We had to take Andrew some underwear (theatre kids, I tell you. . . you just never know what to expect!)

"Take a picture of me and Andrew's panties!" I'm sorry. I'll never grow up.

This is Andrew, he and I might be the most photogenic people I know.

HA. fave.

That's all I've got for now, folks!

Other happenings:

- Reading: Country of My Skull by Antjie Krog. A fantastic, but very difficult to stomach, account of Krog's experience as a reporter during the TRC hearings.

- Drinking: lots of sweet tea

Coming soon:

-Nashville pictures once I steal them from Marie

- Epic Wagner Family Road trip beginnings: we leave Monday for three weeks of lovin'

5th 'o July lovin'

2010-07-06T10:58:00.000-07:00

Because of the wedding over the weekend, we celebrated our Independence on 7/5 with the Riggs/Kent clan. The day included much food and water and laughter. Volleyball, high jump competitions, synchronized swimming. . . Joy abounded.

(Andrew's a great sous chef)

I love my life.

There and Back Again - A Hobbit's Tale

2010-07-04T11:23:00.001-07:00

This weekend, my friend Michelle got married!

Quick background story (You doubt I can tell a story quickly, don't you?).

On our way home from vacation last summer, my family missed our flight out of Paris's Charles De gaulle airport and was stranded in Paris for an extra week (what a pity!). The morning we missed the flight, a girl approached me in the airport and said "Oh, you speak English! Can I stand with you? I missed my flight too!" Her name was Michelle, she had been traveling through France, teaching some American study abroad students for the summer. Dad invited Michelle to share my hotel room with me that night, as we thought that we'd be able to get a flight out in the morning and Michelle had been staying an hour outside of the city. At this point in the story I remind Dad how lucky he got - for all I knew, he had just volunteered me to share a room with a sociopath. He always replies that he has good judgment, and he felt secure since Michelle mentioned God and prayer within her first couple of sentences.

Dad was right, Michelle was/is wonderful and ended up spending the week with us. Once back in the states, she and her now-husband, Nate, came and visited us so that we could meet him!

And this weekend, a year after we met, we drove to Tulsa, OK, to celebrate Nate and Michelle's wedding.

God works in mysterious ways, eh? What a serendipitous blessing!

And so..... drumroll please.....

Ooooklahoommma! Where the wind comes rushing through the plain!

The drive wasn't bad at all, a little flat, but not bad.

On Saturday morning, we got a flat on the way to the wedding:

Daaaaang they make tire changing look classy.

I was wearing heels, too.

He's a stud.

So is he.

Watch out, ladies!

Andrew was mourning the fact that Michelle is no longer eligible.

I took an entire photo series: "Chewing- A Wagner Family Expertise"

these are my two faves:

Ode to the Mundane

2010-06-30T17:25:00.000-07:00

This morning Christian took a look at my shorts and tshirt ensemble and said, "Kali, you look nice today." I thanked him, and told him that I appreciate the compliment. He replied: "You look a lot more put together than you have the past couple of days."

I guess the tshirt was a step up from the pool towel I've been sporting.

Or maybe, it was the fact that I was standing next to Andrew, our homeless potter-in-training brother, that made me look so put together.

Andrew cleaned up and went grocery shopping with me today:

Andrew: "Kali, why are you taking a picture?"

Kali: "Because I might blog about this."

Andrew: "Grocery shopping?" And then he proceeded to make some comment about my assumption that other people will be interested in my mundane life.

Kali: "I just figure it's best to take pictures all day, and then at the end of the day I can choose the most exciting ones."

Andrew: "If this is the most exciting part of your day . . . . "

What, Andrew? What are you going to do if I think grocery shopping is exciting?

Speaking of exciting, I played Quelf last night with the bros and Peter and his brother William.

Quelf is hardly mundane, Andrew.

And Emily ran errands with me, and kept me company afterwards.

And we entertained ourselves.

hahah

It looks like my wink sparkled. HA.

Mundane my foot.

"It made the biggest plop" . . .

2010-06-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

. . . the frog, that is.

Thanks, Amanda.

Christian caught it and rescued it from the chlorine!

It was bigger than Andrew's hand.

A new, frog-friendly, home. Rescue complete.

I watched a heated game of water polo instead of reading.

I've been thinking lately about how absolutely full of love my life is. The Lord has blessed me with incredible relationships and gracious people.

I can only begin to try to love these men as much as they deserve :

Right to Left: My brothers, Christian and Andrew, and Peter (who we would probably legally adopt if his family wasn't as wonderful as they are). They love having their picture taken.

My dad. He might know me better than anyone else in the world does (though mom might give him a run for his money). I respect him immensely.

Shifting gears again.....

I had coffee with my dear friend Courtney this morning.

We were told we that we need Jesus. Boy is that the truth! But I'm always a bit put-off by people who toss tracts at me, maybe I should be more gracious. Maybe the man who handed them to us should have paused long enough to look me in the eye and give me a chance to respond. Regardless, I was a bit tickled - the south and all that comes with it.

I spent some time acquainting myself with the new member of Courtney's family! Baby Sam. He's a dear, and I'm smitten.

To my handful of readers, you, my friends, all bring joy to my life. Thanks for that!

The Weekend

2010-06-27T21:55:00.000-07:00

I'm a master of creating comfortable, non-productive, study spaces:

Too hot, but oh so irresistable.

Fell asleep.

Notice the MS word page is blank?

But really, I was just too delighted by biscuits and coffee to focus.

So I decided it's time to learn how to cook:

Blue cheese and red potato tart

Fourth of July cake! An annual tradition; I initially resisted because it's still June, but mom insisted that the holiday is soon enough.

We had some cute guests this afternoon:

We watched Youtube clips of baby animals. "Baby pips" were the favorite.

This is Emily. She loves cake, and I love her - even if she grabs my armpit sometimes.

This is Hannah. She doesn't always look like this, but I kind of like her best this way. We had a very nourishing heart-to-heart tonight. I'm so incredibly blessed.

In other non-pictoral news:

-Amanda and Brian, our former youth pastors, and adopted family members, are visiting. It's so great to have them here.

- I love having a camera on my phone.

- I think God was pretty smart inventing the concept of a sabbath. I'm hoping to take full advantage of a lax summer schedule and to allot time to focus on some spiritual discipline and reflection. It's so incredibly difficult to simply be still.

- Claritin. Who invented it? I should name my firstborn after that person, because I wouldn't survive Tennessee summers without it.

The past couple of days:

2010-06-24T10:45:00.001-07:00

Breakfast with Mom at Brother Juniper's (a fave)

My adorable mother sets a good example: homework over breakfast

Dr. VanZanten and I are bonding over the summer

U of M library

Sonic = summer. Why don't we have one in Seattle?

Carrot cupcakes: procrastinating working on my honors project

dropping eaves; 6/21

2010-06-21T16:30:00.000-07:00

I eavesdrop. A lot.
It might be rude, but I blame it on my love of people and story.

Today:

My phone sales rep. told me all about her fiance, their relationship, how much her family hates him, and how she would like to wait two more years before getting married, and he would like to have the wedding tomorrow.

The middle aged, male, barista at Books-A-Million's cafe told his coworker about his 14 year old son who wants to be a ventriloquist ever since a brain tumor has altered his development. He then, unprompted by his friend, launched in to a very tragic story about his son's condition, casually I might add, as if discussing lawn-care. People are strange. I was baffled.

melted spatulas

2010-06-14T21:13:00.000-07:00

Today:

- finished my Honors Project prospectus - HALLELUJAH!

- bought a grown-up dress. It has no frills, florals, tiedye or bows. Mom said that it's time to think about not looking like a little girl for job interviews. I shrugged. I guess she has a point.

- I melted a spatula, but made yummy chicken piccatta.

- thinking of buying a camera

Change of Pace

2010-06-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

Welp, it's sure been a while.
Charis told me that I should blog this summer - I'm not sure that I like the idea very much.
But I'm going to try something new, and rather than diary or philosophize, I'm simply going to post a highlight (or two or three...) a day for the rest of the summer.
We'll see what happens.

So today:

- My best friend got married yesterday! Weird.
- I made successful souffles and delectable corn bread
- i discovered that fireflies live in my backyard
- green frog caffe: http://www.greenfrogcoffeeco.com/jackson.php

With open hands

2009-04-10T23:08:00.000-07:00

Regardless of what lessons I've learned, I continually seek assurance from the illusion of control. Even when I know that offering my life to the Lord with open hands is a beautiful release, I clench my hands tighter and cling to the sense of control that comes through worry and stress. What a ridiculous instinct!

I don't know what I'm doing.
School is moving so fast. Time is flying by - it's time to declare my major, it's time to squeeze in classes and focus my studies, to decide what my goals are, what career to pursue, what steps to take, what connections to make. I'm making choices as quickly as I can lest time pass me by- grabbing the most immediate option, what springs to mind first: ENGLISH! I yell. SOCIOLOGY! Grad school! Teaching maybe. wait.
I don't want to teach. I want to go back to South Africa. Maybe do social work. Maybe do whatever and write. Maybe I'll stay in Seattle and work in the admissions office. Maybe I'll get married some day and raise six kids and give up all the career aspirations i'm so frantically searching for. Maybe. I don't like maybe's.

My chronic wanderlust is kicking in - maybe it's the spring sunshine - but I have this compelling desire to leave school and wander the world. I could just walk and walk, searching for what it is I'm passionate about, knowing that I'll recognize it when I stumble across it. Then I'll be content to sit and rest.
But this isn't practical. I can't simply leave school and backpack for an indefinite amount of time around the world. Well, I suppose I could, but I don't know if it would be the wisest choice. Maybe (there's that word again) the summer will be the time that I need to stand back and look at my life and who I am.

In the midst of a sea of maybe's - I KNOW that I don't have to have it all figured out, it's probably better that way anyway. I KNOW that I'm learning about trust and the importance of seeking God's will. I KNOW that if He is who He says He is, He's got it all under control.I know I'm so incredibly blessed by an endless array of undeserved opportunity.

Praise the Lord my life doesn't pause until I have it all figured out!

2009-03-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've last posted - sorry Dad.

This quarter has been stressful, crazy, and wonderful. My fingernails never stood a chance. So I guess I pretty much failed my new year's resolution, but as CJ always asked me, "In the light of eternity, what does it matter? Diddlysquat."

Andrew was here this weekend, it was so wonderful. We hung out in the sunshine, ran down the queen anne hill, saw a play about Satan and some drunk irishmen. I miss that kid.

I sometimes regret being so far away from home, it's hard to know that my brothers are growing up and I'm not there to watch them become the amazing men that they are.

Today I'm working on my final pieces for my creative writing portfolio. It's been so great to HAVE to sit down and write poems and stories this quarter, I really love it. It's hard, and I don't know if I want to ever pursue it professionally, but I love it - so that's good, right?

Monday mornings

I wake early.
Before the sun stirs the city’s inhabitants.
Before the anthill metropolis swarms with
busy busy students, professionals,
rowdy families, and 30 something singles
with their canine children.
Before the morning breath of
stale routine pollutes the mountain air.
Before we glue to-do lists to our foreheads.
Before we drip espressos, and dress the kids
all alike in plaid uniforms and
before we send them marching single-file down the street
into classrooms where they sit in rows and aisles.
Before we follow them, file onto busses which follow
circuits, follow routes, follow each other, and
stop on the o’clock dot,
and open their doors that we might stream out
and disperse into the maze of
skyscrapers and city blocks.
Before we follow our feet to boardrooms, banks, and bars,
and stop at bakeries on the way home,
before we file onto busses, feed our children,
greet our spouses, clean our homes, set our alarms
and crawl into our beds.
On Monday morning I wake early
before the anthill swarms.

2009-01-18T10:53:00.000-08:00

It's beautiful outside today! My computer can't get the exact view that i have, but this is from my window sill. I'm sitting at my desk, on top of a pile of laundry soon to be hung, and watching the boats on the canal.

I woke up around 6:30 this morning and caught the 7:30 bus with Christo. We went to the 8am service at St. Luke's Episcopal church. I really enjoy early mornings, when the world is still and quiet. I also really enjoyed the service. There was probably 20 elderly people at the service; the presence of older people is something I really enjoy and lack in my life. The service itself was slightly more casual and charismatic than a lot of liturgical services I've attended (though not nearly as much so as the later service at this church, which included some wonderful dancing). And while I didn't have words of prophesy to contribute, I felt at home singing familiar hymns, reciting the creeds, and kneeling for communion.

I also realized how neat it is to be a church in a neighborhood like Ballard, or a city like Seattle. While the priest was reading the gospel from among the congregation, a homeless man named Mark came into the church and was greeting the congregants. I couldn't see him well, but it appeared he was mentally or physically ill. Mark progressed up the isle and shook hands with the acolyte, and then Fr. John. The Fr. paused the service, placed his hands on Mark and prayed with the congregation for healing and blessings upon the man, and then explained (probably for mine and Christo's benefit) that Mark comes like clock work every Sunday. Then Mark left and the service proceeded. Too many church's would resent Mark for disrupting the service, too many priests would expect the greeter to take care of him and would never think of pausing the service to greet and pray for him. Which approach is the better picture of the gospel, the uninterupted presentation of the gospel reading, or living it out?

Since the purpose of this blog is to keep my family up to date on my doings and musings, and the majority of what I do and think is school related, I'm posting a draft of one of my creative writing assignments.

Snapshots

Kali Wagner

The ridges on the back of my eyelids shelve the photo albums of my memory. Sometimes I look through the thick green album, and glance at the photos that narrate my pre-SPU life, to try to piece together who I am from snapshots of where I’ve been.

I open the album and flip through the pages.

Honolulu, HI. I stand next to fair Danielle – my fearless leader. She wears a frilly dress, white gloves with matching shoes. I, my hair boy-short and brown, wear a Laura Ashley floral-patterned sleeveless jumper. No frills. My brown hands and chewed off fingernails are exposed to the tropical air and hold the handle of my blue Easter basket. Black mary jane’s suffocate my calloused soles that mom worries will surprise a centipede like those under the centipede tree or like the giant one that we found in the shower at the pool.

Flip.

A quadrangle of red brick - home to numerous families stationed in Fort Riley, KS. 40 D Sheridan place. The address I proudly memorize. Inside apartment D, our play room has 3 windowed walls. On the one inside wall is a door to my parents room that remains locked and a windowed door to the boy’s room that Andrew brakes with an oversized plastic yellow baseball bat in a fit of frustration the one time it too is locked. When mom pulls me out of my overcrowded kindergarten it becomes our school room, the birth place of a 12 year homeschooling legacy. It is a room of discovery where I play, learn, and find Christian on the floor with partially chewed cockroach legs dangling from his baby lips.

Flip.

Mom, baby Christian, toddler Andrew, and I stand at the gate of the airplane that is taking my waving, camo-clad dad away. Deployed. At Easter, we follow him to Germany, where he is stationed instead of Bosnia. Once there, I lose my first tooth eating spaghetti ice cream and explode in a bloody fit of un-German excitement. Infected by the magic of Broechen , “Danke,” porcelain dolls, knudels, and kinder eggs, chronic wanderlust seeps into my bones.

Flip.

A pencil drawing of 16801 89^th AVE E, Puyallup, WA, that I sent to my grandparents. On the cul-de-sac in front of my 4^th home, blonde Devon and brunette Kylie, my best friends, play vicious games of exclusion and mockery at my expense. Inside 16801, at the top of the stairs, Dad looks into my puffy eyes and says “What does it matter what they think?” I conclude that it didn’t matter, then, or ever again. Later, in the backyard, the green canvas for my mother’s earthy artistry, I watch her hunt under cover of darkness with flashlight and bucket of salt, for the boogery slugs that corrode her leafy sculptures.

Flip.

A man in a dress, bearing a cross, walks up the isle of St. Christopher’s Episcopal Church. As I experience my first liturgical service, the worship I would later crave, I view with a skeptical and creeped-out expression. It is suspiciously Catholic, and I’m not sure if Catholics are Christian. Turns out they are, and so are the congregants of St. Christopher’s, I was sold. When 6^th grade arrives, I enthusiastically transition from child, to young adult, with my long-coveted acceptance into EYC – the Episcopal Youth Community. My parents insist I call adults “miss” or “mister,” but upon special permission I call our youth director “Becky,” like all the teenagers; like Ben and Jane. Jane is my friend and we both have crushes on Ben. When Dad gets out of the army and relocates us to Jackson TN, Ben asks Jane out. But he tells me that he liked me first. I’m ok with that.

Flip.

The album opens to a page titled “Tennessee,” the first in the chapter. There are at least twice as many pages as there were in any of the previous chapters, for there are 7 years worth of photos rather than two or three. n

On the second page, my best friend, Caitlin, and I stand in the parking lot of Madison Academic Magnet High School, matching Hawaiian print backpacks slung over our shoulders – our survival kits for our first day of public school. Madison: socially stimulating, intellectually stagnant, my day-home for one year before I “drop out” and embrace the freedom of homeschooling.

Flip.

Our living room on Christmas morning. The tree sparkles, the windowed doors on the back wall glimpse a mottled, brown green acre of woods. I sit on the couch in front of the window in my pajamas, cradling my baby brother Matthew. This is the happiest picture of Matthew, a gift. His body is relaxed, seemingly absent of the pain that plagues him and threatens his genetically diseased body. It is a morning of hope after months of tears and prayer, a memory of peace to cling to in the turbulent year that lies ahead of me following his funeral a few weeks later.

Flip.

Reba, the black Toyota Matrix I drive, parked in our three car garage. On her rear window is a sticker that reads “Seattle Pacific University” in maroon and white letters. It is my signal to the world that after months of agonizing debate, I am rejecting Wheaton, my parent’s alma mater, and forging my own path in what my southern priest’s wife dubs “Satan’s Playground”: Seattle, the heathen world beyond the borders of the Bible belt. I might burst with excitement.

I turn the last page,

Close the cover,

and reshelf the album.

2009-01-12T21:16:00.000-08:00

I've already failed at my blogging resolution. I have however, been successful in the stop-picking-my-nails resolution thus far. Baby steps.

I'm attempting to write a poem for my Imaginative Writing class about a cup thrown by my mom. It's about the cup, but I really think it's about mom, or even me. The themes in my head are all so beautifully layered and intertwined. My poem open in my word processor, however, is no more beautiful or artistic than crap flung on a wall by monkeys.

I just caught myself picking at my thumbnail.

Shoot.

Early Morning

2008-12-31T01:33:00.000-08:00

it's 3:33 am.

I stand upon the brink of this new year and I resolve, among many things, to blog once a week.

I won't succeed, but I like to fool myself.

Dying, is the pessimist's word for "living." So I've decided to do away with the gloom as time slips through my fingers, to not grieve its passing - it's life, after all. The "draft autosaved at 3:47 AM" at the bottom of my screen is comforting, for time moves a lot more swiftly than I compose.

3:50

I think I'm done for the night.

There is life after Africa

2008-09-11T20:35:00.000-07:00

I didn't originally intend to continue this blog after Africa, but my

parents like it and I like the idea of it, so we'll see if I can keep it up.

The post-Africa summer which seemed to creep by at a snail's pace is finally speeding up and is rapidly ending. I leave for Seattle on Tuesday, am going to spend a few da

ys with my roommate and her wonderful family, and then I move into my dorm on the 20th for a week of leadership retreat and orientation-ing the freshmen, and then school starts on the 29th!

This is what summer at home has looked like:

I spent a wonderful week with my family at my favorite place in the world - indian lake, NY

Laughed and cried (sometimes simultaneously) with my best friend, Caitlin Riggs

Michael Frank, a wonderful friend from school, flew out from CA to shadow my dad and some other docs at work. Oh, and to hang out with me and Caitlin on our favorite bridge at the old Green Frog Village and cotton farm museum of the South of course!

I've spent some time with a handful of other people who are dear to me (but I've been a slacker on the pictures) and have spent way too many hours of my life working at my dad's clinic, sitting at a desk, feeding patient charts into a scanner.

The brightest point of this career path was the day that I discovered the plethora of podcasts available from NPR. Instead of listening to country music (which I admit, I've slowly developed an appreciation of) or the shrieking of the scanner when it tries to eat the staples that elude the jaws of my removal toy, I've been listening to short stories read by actors, histories of people told through interviews and radio clips, stories of unique individuals in South Africa (I was very excited about that one, because I had been to the township in which the girl lives), New York, Bozeman Montana, who were given voice recorders. It's all absolutely enchanting.

Tomorrow is my last day of work. And while I enjoy the six hours days of NPR, I will not miss the scanner in the least.

2008-07-09T13:23:00.000-07:00

So i'm sitting back in Cape Town listening to Avril Lavigne's "sk8tr boi" on the radio. Life is surreal sometimes.

So yes, we are back to where we began our trip, at the Backpack hostel in Cape Town. And we are once again writing a paper. It's even the same paper because it's a rewrite of the first one we wrote. Who said time is linear? it's so not.

We left Grahamstown on Saturday and drove to our hostel near the safari park. We slept in the most wonderful mud huts with grass roofs I could ever imagine (with indoor plumbing and a heater and everything)! And in an orange tree grove nonetheless. It was a beautiful two days. We spent the first day on safari. First we drove in cars/vans through the elephant park and saw SO many elephants. The baby ones were my favorite. Then we got into open safari jeeps and drove out into the wild. We stopped, literally 10 feet away from a lion and lioness. I had a very false sense of security inside the vehicle until the female feline got up and started walking towards my side of the jeep and our driver goes *in a hushed and eerily calm voice* "keep all your limbs inside the vehicle." My limbs weren't going anywhere.

She didn't eat me, don't worry.
We also were close to giraffes and saw hippos and kudu and crocodiles and bunch of other animals i don't remember...
and then we ate kudu and springbok for dinner! mmm..

The next day we went to the lion and croc park, which is set up more like a zoo. We saw huge crocidiles that looked kin to godzilla. and then, the highlight of the week,
we played with lion cubs.
not baby simbas, but teenage simba sized cubs.
It was a bit intimidating at first, but they were kinda just like puppies with claws and sharp teeth.
there's a hole in my sweatshirt, it's from a lion. how many people can say that? *don't worry mom, it's just a tiny hole. Scout has ripped much bigger ones).

So, Ben Troop, if you ever read this, I wrestled lions - If that's not flirting with death, I don't know what more you want from me.

Oh, a few of us also went and got massages. soo nice. Dr. Segall and I got ours together, it was precious bonding time, really. We entered the room and our massage persons ( i can't spell what they are called for the life of me) go "Ok, so just take off your clothes and get under these towels and we'll be right back!" How many people experience that with one of their favorite professors?

So now we're back, after a day of driving. The next group of Irish students arrived, there's a few of our friends from the last group, but it's kind of weird to have all the new ones around.
And we're just working on our final paper (it never seems to end) and then we're headed home on Friday.

Tomorrow we're visiting a TB clinic. So that should be interesting. And then doing some shopping.

I'm so ready to go home and see everyone! I miss you all. And you people at school, I'm so excited to be able to call you all and regularly correspond again!

Plettenburg Bay and Grahamstown

2008-06-29T12:56:00.000-07:00

I'm back online! Internet in Stellenbosch was uber pricey, and then upon arriving in Grahamstown we found no better prices. However, we found a place with decent night time rates, so here I am! And thank goodness too, I felt so far away and disconnected from the rest of the world.

ok so RECAP! (and for your sake, Chris, I'll try to be a bit more concise this time!)

So we finished up building with Habitat for Humanity in Mfuleni, the township outside of Stellenbosch. I have reflections on my experience and interaction with poverty, but I'll transfer them from my journal to the web sometime later, so keep your eyes open. Anyway, we bid a nearly tearful goodbye to our Northern Irish friends and embarked for a long drive to Plettenburg bay where we would spend a day before going on to Grahamstown for the National Arts Festival.

I think I've been endowed with superhero like abilities when it comes to sleeping during travel. I slept almost the entire flight to africa, and it seems nearly every car trip as well.

I woke up after about 4 hours when we reached a gas station for lunch. Not only was there a gas station, restaurant, and playground, but a petting zoo as well. Africa is surreal sometimes.

Plettenburg bay was beautiful. The day we had there was a free day so we went about various activities. A few students chose to sea kayak with dolphins, since we were right on the coast, and some sought more of a thrill. Mom, I'm appologizing right now for my decision to join the latter group, I'm not sure what got into me. You might not want to look at the pictures...

This is me, jumping off the highest bungy jump in the world. the highest IN THE WORLD. I couldn't help myself.

This is us! plus a few random people from Ireland (we told them how much we love the Irish) and South Korea.

That was the most terrifying/exhilerating experience ever! Free falling, though it's only for about 5 seconds, is the scariest feeling. I was screaming my lungs out thinking, how the heck did I get mid-air? Is the cord ever going to catch me?

Sooo after bungy jumping, a few of us hiked down to the beach. It was beautiful, but already cold outside (it was about 4 pm) and everyone was wearing sweatshirts. Josh and I however, emboldened by our bridge jumping experience, were determined to test out the waters of South Africa, the Indian Ocean, the closest water to ANTARCTICA I've ever jumped in! And in we went! and then OUT we went. That water was absolutely freezing!

Then we had class that night, wrote some essays, did some reading.

Next day we drove to

GRAHAMSTOWN

So here we are, all up to date! We arrived in Gtown on friday , checked into our rooms (single dorm rooms at Rhodes University - a beautiful English campus. And oh it's so very nice to have a room to myself!) and dived right into the arts festival with a theatre performance of the play "Cissie." Saturday we scoped out the market. Talk about overwhelming! The whole city is buzzing with merchants sellling every African artifact you could ever want, and a pair of nikes to boot! Then we attended a Jazz performance and an extremely upsetting movie premier about a poor, incestuous, Afrikaner family. Today we saw an amazing ballet of Romeo and Juliet (OLIVIA!).

And I've got so much homework to do, so I'll leave it at that for now, but I love you all, and am looking forward to either seeing you in a couple weeks, or hearing from you soon!

Stellenbosch - rain and more rain

2008-06-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Alright folks, due to lack of internet availability, I've been falling behind in my updates! So sorry. I don't know how consistent they'll be this week, Josh and I found an internet cafe today but I don't know if we'll have time later on. Anyway, here's a quick recap of the past couple days.

Monday:
We boarded into the bus and our driver, Desmond, took us into a township about 40 minutes outside of Cape Town. I have no idea how to spell it, but it's pronounced Kye-leetch-ah. The township holds about a million people, mainly in shacks of corrugated tin and cardboard, plastic, wood, whatever is available. We drove to a children's home to drop off some clothing and toys that we had brought, take a tour, and play with the kids a bit. There's about 140 kids there, ranging from infancy to 19. Many of them are orphans, but some of them are simply abandoned by their parents 0r neglected, so they stay at the home until their parents file a missing person's report, a social worker checks out the situation at home, and then the children are sent back.

When we arrived, there were kiddos running everywhere. The most adorable black children in tattered/mix and match clothing, dirt on their faces, running up to us with their hands outstretched asking to be held. One little girl of about 5 came up to me and wouldn't speak, but she took my hand and showed me around. We spoke to some of the older children, young teenagers, who showed us their beds (which, as we saw and according to the American v0lunteer who showed us around, they always keep made and neat) and told us that they enjoy living at the home. There aren't very many workers there, but they seem to really love the children and care about their futures - all of the kids are required to attend school.

Anyway, in one of the rooms all the babies were taking naps (which the children interupted as soon as they brought us in). There was about 10 children, those old enough to stand, stood in their cribs, peaking their heads over the side and holding out their arms to be picked up. The youngest baby was found abandoned on Mama Rosy's (the owner) doorstep as a newborn, eyes barely opened. There was another beautiful infant girl who was fussing, I went over to see her and gave her my finger to hold. All she wanted was human contact.

Josh won the prize for the most popular. He brought a box of latex gloves and a marker and was inflating them like balloons and drawing faces on them, so the thumb looked like a nose and the other fingers like hair. The kids went wild.

I think one of the greatest tragedies of apartheid is the devastating affect it has had on families. We see and hear story after story of families torn apart because of where they are forced to live (if in a township, many parents commute to work in the cities), the poverty that results, the unemployment, the violence.

Tuesday -
Tuesday we went to Parliament, had a really boring tourguide, and then went and had a fabulous lunch in an outdoor market. Da (my grandpa), you would've LOVED it! Papa Segall ordered us Samosas, potato curry filled pastries, to eat while we waited for our lunch and then we walked to the train station where we all tried some meat pies, and then we followed him back to the market where we ate our lunch of some potato stew wrapped in a tortilla/crepe like pastry. Delicious. I like the way Papa will travels!

Then, since we had a paper due the next morning, and since we hadn't finished reading the book we were to write it on, a handful of us went to an internet cafe and worked and then were up nearly the whole night in the hostel working. The 30 Irish students sharing the hostel with us thought it awfully amusing that we were working so hard during our summer holiday.

Wednesday -
Yesterday, I turned in my paper, and we all packed up and piled on to a bus to make our way to Stellenbosch. Here, we're staying at the University of Stellenbosch, an old Afrikaner (or maybe it was Dutch..) University in the dorms with the Irish students as well as other college age people from Cape Town and various other cities. We're participating in a week long Habitat for Humanity international event. We're divided into 8 teams of about 10 people each, and assigned a home owner or home owner family from the township Mfulani where we work from 8-4;30 each day this week building their homes. It's really quite fun because there's challenges between the teams (we had an Amazing Race like challenge last night. My team won 1st and the prize of an hour and a half more sleep on whatever day we choose! YEAH!), and activities in the evenings. It's awesome as well to get to talk to the kids from Ireland and CapeTown. While mixing cement and moving cinderblocks (all the homes are cinderblock, they found it funny when i tried to explain our wood and dry wall method) I learned that Stuart does not pronounce his name "stoo-ert" but a very quick "styu-irt," which I am still trying to master. I think I say it just fine and that they simply enjoy telling me I'm wrong. I also learned that the South African phrase "just now" means "in about 30ish minutes, maybe an hour" and that "now now" means "i'll think about it in ten minutes." I'm also in awe of the extent of the influence of facebook. It's wonderfully convenient, for whenever anyone would take a photo, whether from Ireland or Cape Town, they woudl promise to post it on facebook so we could share. How cool is it that we will all be able to stay in touch! And when making small talk, the weather is no longer the only subject we all have in common.

Oh
and the food! We took a break around 11 for tea and fat cakes (I don't have a clue how to spell their Afrikaans name). All of us Americans are in agreement that a fat cake is the most delicous thing we've stumbled upon thus far. It's bread that's been fried, sort of like a donut without icing. And you put jam or sugar on it.

There were a few adorable children who peeked there heads out of the shacks around our building site. I think we're going to bring some toys tomorrow so that we can entertain our curious neighbors, and at the end of the week there's traditionally a soccer game between the habitat builders and the children of the township. My brother Christian would be in his element!

We ended the day around 2 because it was raining too much for the cement to set. There was absolutely no complaining from us. The weather here is pretty nasty, cold and wet, more like Seattle winters than Tennessee summers. The Irish kids claim it's warm though, apparently this is similar to their summer weather.

We need to head back to the dorm for dinnner and activities, I'll try to update again sometime this week!

love and miss you all!

Vomitting on the High Seas

2008-06-17T13:28:00.000-07:00

Cape Town, Day 4, Sunday

Sunday morning rolled around and Josh, Mary Kay (the chaperoning parent of one of the high school girls) and I made a pilgrimage through the drizzly grey streets of Cape Town (I felt like I had never left Seattle) to St. George's Anglican Cathedral.

In one church service, I saw a clearer picture of true reconciliation than any Sunday school teacher or text book could describe.

Standing in the cathedral, surrounded by my brothers and sisters in Christ, Black, Coloured, Indian, White, the numbingly familiar words of the opening hym, Shine Jesus, Shine, took on a powerful life of resonating truth.
Black and White stood next to each other, after spending their lives forced to worship in segregation, and implored our God of unity to "shine upon us, set us free by the truth you now bring us." We sang to the Lord of all nations and colors to "fill this land with the Father's glory" to "set our hearts on fire" and to flood this scarred and wounded nation with love and mercy, with the illuminating light of Christ. Recognizing that the light of His love shines in the midst of darkness.

The service was conducted primarily in English, but the scripture readings and many of the prayers, as well as a couple of the songs, were also conducted in Xhosa (the X is pronounced with a click that I have yet to master, fyi) and Afrikaans (my service booklet was printed in all three). The second reading, from Romans, was likely the same passage my home church, All Saints Anglican, read that same Sunday. And across the world, I saw a bit more of the majesty of its message of reconciliation through the blood of Christ.

"For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having een reconciled, will we be saved by his life."

"Veel meer dan sal ons, nou dat ons geregverdig is in sy bloed, deur Hom gered word van die toorn." (Afrikaans)

I was witnessing this reconciliation before my very eyes, droopy as they were from lack of sleep.
The power of Christ's reconciling love for us si not simply the means by which I confess my sins and am awarded a free pass to life beyond the pearly gates. It is the light that shines int eh darkness of 5 year old "necklaced" children (burned alive with a tire of gasoline around their necks), orphans,AIDS, prison cells, xenophobia, broken relationships. It is the power that brings victims and perpetrators before the altar of one God to share a common chalice and loaf of bread. It is the power to bring healing and forgiveness to a country so deeply divided.

Lord the light of your love is shining,
in the midst of the darkness, shining;
Jesus, light of the world, shine upon us,
set us free by the truth you now bring us,
shine on me, shine on me.

Flood the nations with love and mercy; send forth your word, Lord, and let there be light

Sunday afternoon -
Be wary, the following tale is one of nausea.
After church and lunch, we followed a power walking Dr. Segall down the waterfront of Cape Town where Papa will purchased tickets for our excursion to Robben Island, the island prison where Nelson Mandela and other political leaders were kept.
We boarded the fairly large passenger-ferry type boat that was to take us to the island, and started on our way. It soon became clear that we were in for a few bumps. The bumps however, turned into a roller coaster. Up and down and sideways. We were unable to see the horizon through the gray fog that had descended upon us, so I watched through the window as the waves rose and fell, covering the window complete and then disappearing as our boat decided to tilt on its side. I love roller coasters, really. But it was all I could do during that 25 minute ride not to follow the handful of other passengers who ran, hands over their mouths, to the toilets in the back.The men who work on the boat were passing out barf bags left and right. I just prayed that the man next to me kept down the steaming hot pocket he had just finished consuming when I sat next to him.

Fortunately he did. And I was able to keep my stomach fluids where they belong.

(for the sake of time, I'm about to reign in my loquacious language)
We toured the island by bus. Then we were led by a surviving prisoner through the prison itself, stopping of course at the cell of Mr. Mandela himself.

The timer on the computer is flashing at me, and I have a paper to write, so I'll have to leave it at that for now, I realize I'm a couple days behind in my entries, I'll catch up as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Love you guys!

Cape Town, day 3

2008-06-14T12:46:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday, so no class today.

I went to bed at 8 oclock last night (my sleeping habits are so out of whack), woke up this morning, looked at my watch and read "7:00am." So I got up, took a shower, wondered why no one was awake yet and why it was still so dark outside, and then wandered back into my room ready to start the day. I happened to glance at Kaitlin's clock when I entered the room, it was 3:30am. Way to get a head start, Kali. I tried to go back to sleep but ended up tossing and turning until papa Will pounded on our door around the real 7am.

We piled into the bus and took trip down the coast to Cape Point/Cape of Good Hope (the closest I've ever been to Antarctica. One of these days I'll get there). It was absolutely gorgeous, ocean, sheer cliffs, untamed surf. After climbing for what seemed like hours to a lighthouse and down to the point and up to the lighthouse, we climbed down winding stairs in the hillside/cliffside to a beautiful white sand cove for lunch. After about 5 minutes in the sand, the wind decided to be uncooperative. It felt like the heavens were pouring buckets of sand on us. We all quickly relocated to the rocky hillside and sought shelter beneath the crags. Huddled together, with sweatshirt hoods pulled over our heads and bags of potato chips clutched to our chests lest they be filled with sand, we broke bread.

Josh wandered off to see the surf up close and collect sponges or something and we almost left him behind, Anika (the Segall's daughter) hid in papa Will's coat, and Kaitlin wandered off to do something, some of the highschoolers tried to play frisbee..that was about it.

The hike up was long, and exhausting. I think it's quite possible that hell is a never-ending staircase that must be climbed on a full stomach, in the cold and wind.

We piled into the bus again (we saw a Baboon!) and drove up the east side of the continent to another beach where we were told we could swim if we so desired. While Josh nearly dove in, we all ultimately decided that risking pneumonia this early in the trip was probably unwise. So we walked further down and saw penguins instead. Lots of them. They're such funny little awkward creatures.

Then we came back and I fell asleep, woke up all achy from our adventures scaling cliffs, and now a bunch of us are at an internet cafe updating our facebook statuses.

I'm going to write my paper. Now. Truly I am.

Cape Town, day 2

2008-06-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

True to our normal study habits, Josh and I were up till about 3am finishing homework last night, so I began the day slightly groggy. After breakfast we had class in one of the sitting areas of our hostel, discussed S. African history, the book we are reading, and shared some of our creative writing pieces. We each wrote a piece from the perspective of a museum object (from either the holocaust museum or the art museum we visited afterwards), stories have such a unique power of communicating nuanced truth. I'll probably post my piece after I send it to my dear friend Christo for some editing (little does he know that I intend to use him for his superior writing skills throughout this class). It's nice to have smart friends.

After class we were going to go to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned, but the boat broke. So we took a walk instead to the District Six museum. District Six was an interracial township nestled into the foothills of Table Mountain. Our museum guide was a coloured Muslim man named Noor. He told us of how much he loved the community of District Six, how he would attend synagogue with his Jewish friends, who would in turn attend Mosque with him. "We are all human beings," he emphasized as he described the tight knit community of intermingling religions and races of his township. In the 1960's the apartheid government declared Dist.6 as a white's only area and tehre was a huge forced removal of all non-whites from the community. Dist.6 was especially viewed as a threat because of its embrace of racial diversity. Noor spoke of watching his home and the rest of his community be bulldozed, of being forced to move farther away from town to a designated "coloured community," where transportation to the city for work was costly and time consuming. While Noor bought a home for his family in his new township, many were relocated to small concrete barracks. Families were torn apart-a black man married to a coloured woman were forced to live in seperate locations.

Noor prays every day that he will live long enough for his land claim to be filed and for reentrance to District six to be granted, but the list of claims is long, and the government has little money to spend on filing reports because it spends a third of its budget on paying off the debts of the apartheid military. Ironic.

"It struck me that our history is contained in the homes we live in, that we are shaped by the ability of these simple structures to resist being defiled." Achmat Dangor, "Kafka's Curse"

On a more entertaining note:

We made dinner. It took us 3 hours to make stirfry for the group, but I feel it was a success.

Kaitlin's answer to everything was "more oil!" with the excuse "I was raised in the South! This is how we cook!"

Josh educated us both on the complicated art of rice cooking. "Don't lift the lid! You'll ruin it!"

I just splashed soy sauce on everything.

The end.

Cape Town day 1

2008-06-12T12:55:00.000-07:00

My friend Ben Stuart took this trip last year and yesterday commented on my entry, saying something along the lines of "Just wait until you wake up and see Table Mountain in all its glory."

That was the highlight of my morning, indeed. After waking up multiple times at ungodly hours of the morning, convinced that it was time for breakfast, (though I was probably hungry for dinner, since that's what time it was at home)I walked through one of the courtyards outside on my way to brush my teeth and looked up to see the beautifully green and impressive Table Mountain, shrouded in white mist. It was like Mount Ranier, only smaller, flat-topped, without snow and with more green...

We took a field trip to a couple different grocery stores in order to stock up on ingredients for the week's meals. I love grocery stores! We are divided into cooking groups, responsible for a couple meals, and had to buy the food for our meals (none of us have ever had to cook for 25 people..that's a lot of food!). Josh and Kaitlin and I are in a group. A few of you have experienced early morning baking adventures with Kali and Kaitlin, and may remember the monkey bread incident. Pray for the sake of the rest of our group that we somehow acquire top-chef-like skills before Friday.

We then walked through Cape Town and visited a Holocaust museum. It was interesting because, though I spent part of last summer in Poland visiting Auschwitz, and have been to the Holocaust museum in DC. I've either never seen, or never payed attention to South Africa's involvement in sheltering Jews from Lithuania and Latvia. The museum also drew parallels between the Jewish Holocaust to Apartheid. As I walked through the halls and read the quotes on the wall from Germans and Nazi's proclaiming the superiority of the German people, the inferiority of jews, homosexuals, disabled, the voice of Dr. George Grant from 8th grade history boomed in my ears.

"Ideas have consequences!"

There was a quote in the museum from Heinrich Heine of the German Post (1797-1856). He remarked that "where one burns books, one will in the end, burn people."

Ideas have consequences.

The notion that people can be categorized by physical characteristics into fictional "races" began as only an idea. Hitler's thought that Germans could be defined as superior because of the size of their heads and the color of their eyes began as an idea. The notion that black is lesser than white, that English is superior to Dutch - ideas.

How do these ideas birth hatred and genocide? Is it through the willing acquiescence of individuals? "Not to act," Bonhoeffer exclaims, "is to act. Not to speak is to speak." It was not only Hitler who killed the jews, but the men and women who turned in their Jewish neighbors, and those who simply sat and watched from the comfort of their parlors - those who kept silent.

Getting there

2008-06-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

I'm in Africa!

My day started at 3:45 am when we arrived at the airport (Kaitlin and I had yet to go to bed). And it continued...and continued...forever. I slept the entire 6 hour flight to NY. It's wonderful how time elapses so much faster when you're sleeping.
Our next flight, the non-stop to Cape Town, actually wasn't non stop. After 8 hours we landed in Dakar to let off some passengers. I slept most of that flight too. I did wake up during landing, and wanted to step off the plane just to check another country off my "to visit" list, but we were told to stay on the plane.
And then, get ready, this is super exciting.
A herd of lions, accompanied by a supportive band of hyenas, boarded and attempted to hyjack the plane! I would have stopped them, but I had once again succumbed to slumber.
I guess the lions are pretty air savvy, because we landed in Cape Town another 8 hours later.

Sorry it's not a more exciting story.

Once we landed, we cleared customs. There was slight confusion when each student was asked for return flight intinerary ( I guess they don't want us to stay too long. It's probably wise of them...). None of us have said itinerary. "Return?" we asked, with puzzled expressions.
Fortunately, they finally accepted Dr. Segall's master itinerary which had all of our names on it.

That was the closest to an adventure we came.
Our driver Desmond (not Tutu, or from Lost) met us and drove us to the hostel where we are staying. (The view, in the dark at least, seems to be quite impressive. We can see the table top of Table Mountain from our windows. I bet that's where Simba lives - Pride Rock, here I come!)
And then we ate food.
I stepped out on a limb and chose an exotic African dish.
Pizza.
"Lion's head pizza," actually, which consisted of neither lions or heads.

And now, since I only payed for 30 minutes of internet, I think I'll leave you with all these exciting stories to dwell on. Perhaps tomorrow will be less dramatic and adventurous, maybe I'll get some sleep for once. We can only hope.

On the verge of adventure

2008-06-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

I feel that I am being very ambitious in my hopes to consistently update this blog. I apologize ahead of time for the slacking that may ensue on my part, or the dry and droll entries which may serve as poor excuses for educated writing.

So with the disclaimer as my preface, I suppose I begin my first entry.

I'm still slightly exhausted from the fatigue of finals and moving out of the dorm (my roommate, Laura, and I own way more stuff than I ever thought could fit in a college dorm room). But I have had a restful 2 days with Laura's family who has been so kind as to feed me and let me sleep and provide me with hours of good conversation and entertainment. They're such a blessing! I have been somewhat homesick this week, though. It's an unfamiliar feeling that I haven't really experienced since I unsuccessfully spent the night at my neighbor's house when I was 10. Watching all my friends go home to their families and summer plans, I wish I had some time to spend with my parents and brothers, but I guess I'll hold out for another month.

Josh picked up Kaitlin and I and we went to Dr. Segall's (the professor leading our trip) house for our first class today. We discussed the book Age of Iron which we just read, as well as the trip itinerary. I'm trying to relax all I can tomorrow, because once I get to the airport a 4am Tuesday, I'm not going to have much of a break till July 12. Our calendar is packed with class time, museum visits, habitat for humanity,visiting an orphanage, safaris, writing papers and reading books - I'm a little intimidated by the intensity of the trip, but so excited to have such a wonderful opportunity!

Also, some potentially exciting news: Kaitlin is pulling some strings, and it looks like we might be able to personally meet Desmond Tutu!

My least favorite activity in the world is packing. Specifically packing light. However, I've procrastinated long enough, and need to bite the bullet.

I love you all,

take care!

Kali