Lelapa

Cars driving on the left side of the road.

Summer occurring during December and January.

Traffic lights referred to as ‘robots.’

Loud, aggressive sounding birds called ‘Ibis.’

This surely is a different place than what I’m used to.  There is not much I am accustomed to, or much I can familiarize with where I grew up.  The sights, sounds, smells and tastes are so different than suburban New Jersey.  Each day brings something new that I have never seen, done, or even thought about.  Not until last week had I ever cut steel, used a circular saw, or eaten ox tail or wild guinea fowl.  And I know a lot of my friends won’t believe I did any of that.  But I did, and it was all new to me.  Being in such a different place and doing such different things should make me feel alone.  But I’m not.  I have a new family.

One of Merriam-Webster’s definitions for ‘family’ states, “A group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation.”  Before being on my own, independent and living in a foreign country, I only understood ‘family’ to mean my Mom, Dad, two sisters and all of my extended relatives.  Blood was what constituted someone as a family member of mine.  I have family that spreads from the shores of South Carolina to the beaches of California.  Although I may not know a lot of my family well, they are nevertheless family.  I had a ‘family’ at Wittenberg University, and the school and people will always be considered part of my extended ‘family.’  But what makes someone part of my family?  Is it the simple fact that there are shared genetics between us?  Is it that we share the table during Thanksgiving?  Or is it those that send me a card on the holidays and my birthday?  I have spent time thinking about this, and I think I know the answer. 

The four weeks I have spent here have taught me that it doesn’t matter that some touchable, seeable, tangible things around me seem alien.   What matters is that I now realize that I am a part of a new family.  I have a South African family.  One that is diverse, alike, different, the same…a rainbow of colors, cultures, and characteristics. 

I am blessed with country coordinators who love us, have an interest in us and what we do, and even worry about us when necessary.  Their voices of reason during difficult times give us a sense of calm when we need it most.

I am blessed with 10 brothers and sisters, scattered across the nation, all serving through Christ.  Despite our placements and experiences being individually different, our core achievements of accompaniment, purpose and better understanding will create an unbreakable bond for the rest of time.

I am blessed with a Moruti and his wonderful family, who take me into their home every weekend in order for me to worship alongside them.  They care for me, and have since day one.

I am blessed with some of the most amazing relationships at Lebone.  Every child here offers something different.  I am their big brother, friend, and someone they can talk to.  We walk hand in hand daily, and I am learning so much more from them than they are from me.

I am blessed with wonderful site supervisors at Lebone.  They have treated me like a son, and I look to them as parents.  Even members of their family have been there for me during times of need.

I am blessed with a parish within ELCSA that welcomes me each and every Sunday with smiles, handshakes and hugs.  Even though my singing may be off key and my pronunciation not quite right, they allow me to worship alongside them.

The list could go on and on.  There are so many people that I have met during my time here that have been so gracious to me.  But it is more than them just being nice to a visitor.  I feel as if they are welcoming me into their families.

What makes a family so special is the way they handle adversity together.  A family is strong because of the love and support they provide to those who need it most.  My family has reached some difficulties, and we will undoubtedly face them in the future.  Despite the challenges facing my family and me, I know the power of prayer and the unconditional love of God will guide us through our troubles.  I have a family here.  One I never knew I’d have.  I am grateful to have them in my life.

I have had many people ask me, “Are you homesick?  You must really miss America.”  Everyone seems to assume that I will answer, “Yes, of course I miss home!”  But, as I think about how I feel here, I have to admit that I am not homesick.  Not because I do not miss my family and some of the comforts of American life.  I would love to grab a cheesesteak tonight, or go fishing with my sister whenever I wanted.  But I now have a home here.  I understand the road signs.  I know enough Sotho to greet people, and say the basic things that make someone smile as you walk past them.  I have a job work hard each day, putting forth my part in making this wonderful place operate.  I have people that, when I am gone from them for too long, I miss dearly.  These are signs that I have a new home, a new family, and a new position in life.

There is so much that one person can experience in a year’s time, especially in a completely unfamiliar place.  And they will only be intensified from me being here.  The experiences I will undergo while here will shape me for the rest of my life.  Some already have.  And despite the many differences amongst all of my new family members, we are all united by our common convictions of love of God and love of each other.

And so, as I continue trying to strengthen the bonds I have already created and search for more to come, all I can say is, Ke rata lelapa la heso, “I love my family.”

This blog entry was written for the ELCA MUD3 blog, which can be viewed at: http://elcamud.blogspot.com/