A true Sun-day

Sundays may very well be my favorite day of the week.  The scrappy hairstyles, the casual clothes, the brunch and the clear schedule.  Everything is slower, like a long exhale before the big gulp of Monday.  

Today was such a day, full of sun and long strides.  First I had a Barney's brunch with my favorite person.  Either side of said brunch was filled with a quick walk and repeated, "I can't believe how beautiful it is outside."  I then watched a lame chick flick because, well, do I need a reason?

A gigantic intelligentsia americano accompanied my Elizabeth Gilbert was required because staying awake to all hours talking to my favorite person is apparently my new hobby.  A gorgeous perusal in my favorite store down the road then made me happy more than anything material likely should.  

Most of my Sundays are then capped off with phone calls to, well, everyone close to me, and a simple dinner that usually involves a bagel or soup.  Today is just the same.

And you think I didn't go to church.

Stuck?

I wish that God's truth stuck, that lessons from God only had to be learned once.  I feel so often like I start from scratch in my Christian walk every day.  One day my identity is solid, sealed and complete.  The next I am a baby, clinging to compliments and external affirmation.  What exactly triggers this regression, I wonder?

I suppose our lives change externally so quickly that it would be silly to think that we don't have to relearn for a new reality each step of the way.  What I do know is that God knows what he is doing, and he won't stop working until I am a finished, a new creation.  The great part is that he is faithful and he will do it.  

A different kind of trip...

This is our third full day in Bulembu.  It's been quite an experience so far, almost completely different than we expected.  The cultural barriers are more strong than I would have thought.  My interviews have been sufficient, but disappointing.  I've actually been quite emotional about it, wanting so badly to connect on a personal level with the people.  Unfortunately I don't feel like I've developed any kind of connection with them.  A lot of it is the language barriers and the lack of ability by the Swazi people to communicate emotion in English.   A sample:

"What was life like when the mine left?"

"hard."

"Tell me about that.  What made it hard?"

"difficult"

"what was different after the mine left compared to before?"

"we had no jobs"

Duhhh....I could have told you that.  So I ask you to pray for more descriptive interviews.  

Trevor's photos have also posed challenges.  Swazi people, for some reason, are very stoic when they know their photo is being taken.  They don't understand the concept of acting normally and going about their business while Trevor does his thing.  They are always stiff, conscious of us because they aren't used to having cameras around.  

Transport has also been a problem.  Every shot opportunity is quite far from the other, requiring more coordination than we would have thought.  Unfortunately candid shots are therefore harder to come by.  Of course Trevor's photos are amazing regardless and the calendar is going to be great.

On Tuesday we went to see the Chief of Malanda, the region Bulembu sits within.  We scheduled an appointment with him and, when we arrived to his house on the hill, he told us he only had twenty minutes.  The man has 26 children and numerous wives.  He is chief because his father and grandfather were both chiefs.  He called the King of Swaziland when Bulembu was in trouble and got them food in 2001.  Most days are spent listening to people's grievances.  A community judge of sorts.

Today I am interviewing a teacher, a plumber and a housekeeper.  We are going to take a wee midday break at some point to rest.  We are quite tired today and I am sunburnt to a crisp.  Hopefully some time at the school with the cute kids will raise my spirits :)