city snapshots

You probably saw the title of this post and got excited to see pictures of EVERYTHING.  You expected snapshots of the most beautiful city in the world, from the Table Mountain and the ocean to my workplace, my family, and my home.  Unfortunately, this is not that post.  Honestly, up until today, my camera hasn't left the cupboard I placed it in when I first unpacked.  There are a couple of reasons for this: 1- I'm chronically terrible at remembering to take pictures.  2- I feel a little awkward beginning my work and home relationships as the girl who lives behind a camera.  (Also, taking pictures of and with people you don't really know yet is just a little strange.)  3- Taking pictures leaves me feeling very much like a touristy white American, a stereotypes I would love to escape as much as possible.  But in all honesty, even if I had diligently photographed every moment here from day one, I still don't know if I would be able to share those pictures.

The problem is that I'm afraid– I'm afraid that a picture will inaccurately portray the context in which I'm living.  Cape Town is a complex and diverse city, in more ways than one.  So before I begin posting photos of people and places here (or even begin taking pictures, for that matter...), I need to "show" you a few city snapshots.  So imagine with me for a minute...

From an aerial view, you see the city sitting on the edge of South Africa, the historical entry of colonists in 1652.  Table Mountain and the rest trail south along the western seacoast, and just north of mountains sits the "city bowl," the center of the city.  All roads fan out from the city center eastward, to the interior of the country.  Once you get past the city bowl, you move into the "suburbs" (kind of a cross between Chicago neighborhoods and greater Chicago-land, as far as I can tell).  Now, this is where history gets important.  (Let's be real, history is always important.)  During the days of apartheid, the city was forcefully segregated.  Black and coloured (not a racial slur, but a separate racial group in South Africa) South Africans were forced to move further out east from the city center into the Cape Flats, an area further from the mountains, less desirable, and, under apartheid, held in deep poverty.  A certain road called the M5, that runs north and south a certain distance from the mountains, marked the dividing line between white and black, wealthy and impoverished.

Apartheid ended over fifteen years ago, but the history of segregation continues to shape the city.  Though racial separation is no longer law, in some ways it is perpetuated via class.  Everyone knows that the closer you live to the mountains, the wealthier you are.  And the fact is, the closer you get to the mountains, the more white people you see.

I get to see Cape Town from a different point of view than most.  You see, my family lives about five minutes east of the M5, in the Cape Flats.  The Cape Flats itself is diverse, ranging from nice neighborhoods with modest homes (like where I live) to dangerous neighborhoods with low-rise apartments, to the townships of today, which expose poverty unlike anything I have ever seen.  These areas are all mixed together to form the Cape Flats. This is the part of Cape Town I have seen most.  The wealthy part of Cape Town is foreign to me.  I've only crossed the M5 a couple times since I've arrived.  I have not been to the city bowl, and I have not seen the ocean.  But I have been able to catch a glimpse of the city from the periphery.  I've begun to hear stories, of the past and of the present, of poverty and injustice intermingled with stories of joy and redemption.  From my perspective, I get to see both beauty and pain vibrantly. To me, that is worth more than a thousand views from atop Table Mountain.

Soon (hopefully!) I will take some pictures, so I can show actual snapshots of the context I've tried to describe.  The only photos I have to share are two pictures of the mountains I took from the window in my bedroom.  Though they're a long ways off, I love to look at them.  They remind me where I am, and they remind me why I am here.  Because as much as God lives on the mountain, God also lives in the Cape Flats.  My hope is that I can see Him as I live here too.

the view through my window bars

a closer view (zooming in)

baby steps.

In the movie What About Bob, Bill Murray is slightly insane but looking for a way to cope in his overwhelming life.  When he goes to see a psychologist, he's told that the best way to deal with the difficulties of everyday life is to take baby steps.  Bob took that advice and applied it literally, taking baby steps to the door, baby steps out of the office, baby steps down the hall, baby steps into the elevator...

This movie has always cracked me up, mostly because of how ridiculous Bob is.  (Just seeing it in the Taylor's movie collection is enough to have me rolling on the floor...) Somehow though, the movie somehow seems a little less humorous, because this past week has left me feeling a lot like Bob.  Not in a I'm-suddenly-neurotic-and-psychotic-and-think-I-have-every-mental-illness-in-the-book-but-still-manage-to-crack-people-up kind of way, but in an I'm-in-a-totally-new-and-slightly-overwhelming-context-and-have-no-idea-how-to-cope-in-everyday-life sort of way.  The only possible way for me to manage is by taking baby steps.  I've been suddenly plunged into a new place full of new people, and though I've had to enter the experience head-first at full speed, I still feel like I'm taking baby steps. 

Baby steps into my family.  Who are wonderful.  My host mom and brother are hilarious, and I love sitting with them and hearing stories or watching tv.  I'm working on learning Afrikaans by watching 7 de Laan, my family's favorite soap.  (One of the actors looks just like Amy Poehler, it's the funniest thing to watch her speak Afrikaans and act like a soap star.)  But I'm learning how to be a part of the family, whether that means following the plot of 7 de Laan nightly, figuring out where all the dishes go in the cupboards, or picking up the lingo. (and a bit of the accent, eh man?) 

Baby steps to work.  That one's sort of literal, I live three blocks from the Warehouse, but since I don't have a key yet my host mom still drives me there and picks me up.  She's trying really hard to help me acclimate slowly.  Soon, though, it'll be literal baby steps to the Warehouse. 

Baby steps at the Warehouse.   I'm beginning my internship slowly, but learning more about the Warehouse and how it works daily.  This week has consisted of me sitting like a fly on the wall in a bunch of meetings, trying to soak up all the information about the different programs the Warehouse run and the new structure they're proposing. It's definitely baby steps to understanding all of the ideas there.  Luckily, I get to hear the basic information like six times, so I think by the end of the week I'll have it down.  I'm also getting to know the staff team slowly.  I can see already what an awesome group of people they are, which is slightly intimidating for an introvert who's generally awkward at making small talk.  I'm baby-stepping my way into the family (as they call themselves), drinking about four cups of rooibos tea a day, laughing at all the jokes, and even beginning to crack a few of my own.  I'm really really loving it, and am looking forward to the internship and friendships to come. 

So I'm baby-stepping.  And slowly but surely, my baby steps are taking me somewhere.  I'm hoping, unlike Bob, to soon move past the baby-step phase.  Because I want to run.  I want to take everything in, to experience life here in South Africa, and to walk the path here that God has laid before me, in faith.  Thanks for the prayers and love, and for walking this journey with me. (See how I did that??) 

With hope (and a good pair of sneakers),
Mer

24 hours later...

I'm in cape town!  My parents and I left my house at 2:30 in the morning tuesday night (wednesday morning?) to head to the Detroit airport. We said our goodbyes, and I began my journey to South Africa. I flew Detroit to New York, switched airport in NYC (I was pretty proud of that accomplishment), flew 15 hours from New York to Johannesburg, and finally from Jo-burg to Cape Town.  Somehow, both my luggage and I managed to arrive in one piece Thursday afternoon exhausted, but successful.  Craig, the director of the Warehouse, met me at the airport with a sign his kids had made for me.  It's incredible how welcome one hand-colored construction paper sign can make you feel.

Craig drove me back to the Warehouse for a moment, and then two blocks further, to my host family's home.  My host mom, Joan, welcomed me in, introduced me to my host brother, and showed me my room.  I suddenly had not only a sign, but a whole family and place to call home, at least for the next six months!  I got unpacked, and fell asleep for a much needed nap, only after my host mom made me some delicious soup.  I got up the next morning and came here, to the Warehouse, where I'm now sitting, slightly stunned that I get the opportunity to work at such an incredible place for my HNGR internship.  I've only just arrived, but I've already felt so welcomed in.  Just the thought of it fills my heart with joy.  I can't wait to share how God works in this community, and in me.  TTFN!

Peace,
Meredith

here we go!

Hey there everybody!

I'm less than 24 hours away from flying out from Detroit to Cape Town!  So I figured now was a good time to start blogging.  I've never really done this before, so I'm just going to write what I want, and hope it makes even a little bit of sense to you all.  I've been thinking and preparing to go for so long, now that the time is finally here, it doesn't quite feel real.  I'm about the venture off into the great unknown of a new place, new people, and a new community, which is incredibly exciting, but slightly terrifying.  After spending this past year as an RA on Fischer 5 West at Wheaton (shout-out to 5 Southwest and staff team!), immersed in such an amazing community, it's going to be a big transition to see community in such a different place, and in such a different way.  In spite of that, though, I'm expectantly looking forward to seeing God's faithfulness in every aspect of life in Cape Town.

I decided to call my blog good hope for a couple reasons.  First, I figured it was pretty practical.  I will be living and working in Cape Town, which is located on the Cape of Good Hope.  so, good hope.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that hope is an idea I want to focus on and live in throughout the six months of my HNGR internship with the Warehouse (see the links for more information on either of these).  I spent a lot of time this past year thinking about the intersection between joy, peace, and hope, and role community and the church play in growing those fruit in a way that transforms society.  Not only am I looking for those characteristics within and for myself, but my greater desire is to see hope in the communities in which I will be living and working.  I've spent a lot of time reading and learning about South Africa and the role apartheid has played in society there.  It is an easy place to lose hope, as the process of reconciliation and healing is a long and difficult one.  As I go, and begin to see real life for the people of South Africa, I want to be able to place my hope solely in Christ.

So as I leave home and arrive in Cape Town, pray that I would be filled with good hope, hope that trusts fully in God and His goodness.  Pray against fear as I leave the familiar, fly for 24 hours, and arrive in the unknown.  And pray that I would see and participate in the body of Christ at work in South Africa.  Thanks so much for coming alongside me on this journey, your thoughts and prayers mean so much to me.  And I'll post again soon once I have my feel firmly planted in Southern Hemisphere (and South African!) soil!

Much love,
Mer