Blog post #11

Funny and/or Surprising

At the lodge, we send our laundry out to be washed, & they return it in a big, folded stack, wrapped in cellophane. The first day our new kiddos were with us, Sifundo, who is four years old, automatically took the stack of laundry, put it on top of her head, and walked it down to the bedroom. That’s how women in Kwa-Zulu carry heavy things. So cute and surprising to see little Sifundo do it!

Amahle refers to her sandals as “flick-clocks,” because that’s how it sounds to her when we say “flip-flops.”

For those of you who know my usual modus operandi at home, it would surprise you to see me frequently pick flies/bugs out of my drinks & continue drinking them. That’s just how things are here!

When Jamie blew his nose, Amahle looked surprised & said, “Daddy, you sound like a vuvuzela!”

Apparently, when I order a “7Up” at a restaurant here, it sounds like “Savannah,” which is an alcoholic cider. Not as refreshing as I was expecting.

In Amahle’s first days with us, her English was so limited that we rarely knew what she was trying to say. However, she knew all the words to “Gangnam Style” and “Call Me Maybe.” Kind of similar to not having enough money for nutritious food, but always having grape soda available.

At the zoo in Cato Ridge, we stood for a long time watching an adorable baby monkey make eyes at us through the bars. After several minutes, he climbed over to the side of the exhibit & let himself out. There was nothing stopping him from spanning the twelve inches between us, but when his mommy called him, he let himself back in the exhibit.

At Church in Durban, there is a small playground where the children romp after Sunday services. Our first time there, a two year old boy was climbing the ropes on the jungle gym, naked from the waist down. Both of the girls looked at him & craned their necks to make eye contact with me, as if to say, “Are you seeing this?!” I guess that’s just how they do things in SA. We have seen soooo many naked children here—not at the orphanage, at the beach.

There are signs all over our apartment building that say: Please do not feed the monkeys or feral cats. The woman who cleans our building warned us to lock our windows when we go out, unless we want the monkeys to let themselves in & finish our food.

Probably the biggest surprise is how we all eventually adapt to any situation. We didn’t watch any TV for our first two weeks here; we didn’t have air conditioning; we have eaten enough, but not been “satisfied” for most of our meals, since our food & cooking options here are limited; our skin is continuously slick with dirt, sunscreen, and bug spray; geckos run across the walls with no warning, and we don’t even jump. So many things that seem “necessary” in our lives at home, apparently aren’t. But friends & community—that we truly miss.