Who can I vote for?

Well you know I don't follow politics much. But we will be getting a new president next year. My mom sent me this link, now I have a much better idea who to vote for next year in November.
http://www.wqad.com/Global/link.asp?L=259460

okay okay, I take it all back!

You know in spite of my ranting and raving about looking a mess, I went to my carepoint to spend the afternoon with my babies. And as I turned off the road onto the dirt side street, they spotted Punkin, my man-truck. The children began and cheering, “Yea!” pumping their arms up and down in the air as they jumped about. They ran to me shouting what little English they know “Hel-lo Aunt-ie. How are Youuuuuuu?” They hugged me in a mass that almost knocked me down.
Some teens arrived later, rushing in as they saw Punkin parked at the gate. The twins came to hug me, “Oh Auntie, I’ve missed you. Did you come yesterday? I heard you were here. I’m sorry we missed you last week. We have much to tell you.”
They wanted to sit right next to me and ask me about my favorite food, and favorite colors, about my house and my family. They wanted to share with me about how their father just died, and now they are only with their mother, and asked me to adopt their friend’s baby sister.
They don’t even notice my melted skirt, and rained-on hair,- I’m a rock star to these kids. They will hang onto my every word, and adore me no matter what kind of a mess I am, simply because I come with love, a smile, and a listening ear.
What an opportunity I have to influence them. What a responsibility I have to influence them.
I love them so much.

Skirting the issue

I have to vent.
To the Swazi, skirts are a big deal. Women simply don’t wear pants. Ever.
So now that I know I’ll be here in Africa a while, I decided I have to wear skirts more often. Sigh.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against skirts. I own a few. But to be sentenced to a life time of skirts is a bit much for me. Yeah, sure I could wear pants, it’s not against the law, but the Swazi honestly respond differently to me in a skirt. It’s as if I’m not trying to separate myself as an “American woman” but trying to fit in with them.
So I bought another long skirt this past weekend in Nelspruit.
Sigh.
I hate that I look like a …a… missionary. All I need now is my long braid back and I’ll be set. Long skirt, long hair, no make- up, frumpy frumpy frumpy.
So I wore the skirt on Monday to my teacher’s meeting, and the women were very excited. They also noticed I was speaking SiSwati (I thought I had been for the past 3 months. Where have they been?)
Yesterday I wore pants, but today it was back to a skirt. I choose the long brown one that my mom had given me before I left. I tried to iron it, and found that it’s the kind of skirt that melts with a hot iron.
Nice.
Ruined skirt. Ruined brand new iron.
It’s not the first time I ruined a skirt. I also have a black iron deposited mark on my favorite white linen skirt. And it’s not like I can just throw them out. Then I would have even less to wear than I already do, so I just have to suck it up and wear them. The shopping here is really limited, so it’s not like I can just go out and buy more.
You know, it’s one thing to be condemned to a life of long frumpy skirts. But I hate that now I have to wear long, frumpy, melted, scorched skirts.
I don’t consider myself vain, but is it too much to ask to have clothes that don’t get ruined!!!! Is it too much to want to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “hmmm. I look nice today.” C’mon! I’m a woman! But with rain every day, my hair stylist moving back to the states in 1 ½ weeks and Este Lauder foundation running $60 US dollars a bottle this is quickly becoming unrealistic for me.
So here is a picture of me from Hawaii, New years, and Christmas where I think I look rather cute, albeit cheeky. Please print them off and hang them on your fridges, because I want you to remember me that way. When I return for a visit next year, I won’t look anything like this. I’ll be a mess!
I quit trying! That’s it! No more trying to look pretty here in anti-pretty Africa. I quit! No more shaving my legs, plucking my eyebrows, painting my toenails, or trying to wear anything cute! In fact I’m going to quit Children’s Cup all together and join the Peace Corps. Yes that’s more like it. I’ll have hairy underarms, shoes made out of hemp, wear patchouli oil and live in a homestead with a squatty potty. Yes that is the life style to go with my new look!
Grrrrr!

Thanks Heidi

My BFF sent me this email. It's how I feel some days. Get ready girl, you're next.

I read this quote in the Donovan book I told you about and thought of you. "A missionary is essentially a social martyr, cut off from his roots, his stock, his blood, his land, his background, his culture. He is destined to walk forever a stranger in a strange land. He must be stripped as naked as a human being can be, down to the very texture of his being."

Blessings,
Heidi

You know in Africa I’ve experienced nature in a whole new way. There are just cool new trees, bushes, animals, smells, and phenomena that I’d never seen before.
A few weeks ago I was at a carepoint in Mangwaneni Mbabane. The fog was so think way up there that you couldn’t see anything beyond the carepoint. Not the hills, not the homesteads, not the highway, nothing. In a short while it warmed a bit and the breeze picked up. And I stood there watching the wind blow the fog off the mountain. It was so cool!
A few days later I was driving home from a cloudy Manzini towards Mbabane. A cloud of fog had simply come and rested on top of the mountain. It was like a painting it was so beautiful.
But the most amazing thing was just yesterday. As we drove back from South Africa we came through a lightning storm. The bolts of lightning were pink and wildly webbed. The rain poured as we approached the border of Swaziland, and the landscape was magnificent. It looked like the stereotypical Africa picture. The grass was long and browned from lack of rain. Acacia trees were scattered along the plains, and the mountains stood in the background. Oh I wish I had a picture to show you. When we went through the border post and into Swaziland, the sun came out, creating a giant rainbow. You could see the entire arch, from one hill, over the highway, and then resting on the opposite hill.
Wow! I have never seen that before in my life, it was amazing!

weird microwave

When I first moved in to my house, Nathaniel told me to unplug all of my appliances when they are not in use. That way if there is a lightning storm, you won’t fry anything.
Good advice from a 12 year old.
So yesterday we were having our first lightning storm. I went around unplugging my TV, DVD player, and refused to plug in my laptop even thought the battery was dead.
As I started to sit down I thought I better unplug everything. I got up again and unplugged the dryer, the coffeepot and went to my microwave.
No the microwave will be fine. Besides I didn’t want to move the fridge to reach behind it and unplug it.
I started to sit down and thought again about the microwave.
No, it will be fine. (Too be honest, I don’t know if I thought it or “heard” it but I felt fine about it.
I went to bed and the power flickered for a while. It would cut off, and then when it came back on, I’d hear my microwave beep.
So this morning I wake up, and the clock on my microwave is dark.
When I opened the door, the light inside came on, but the buttons and panel are out. Was it fried by a power surge? My fridge is plugged into the same plug and it’s fine. So is my oven. But the microwave will not work.
Huh? So what was all of that about last night? I think if it was that small voice telling me to unplug it, and I didn’t listen, I’d feel guilty this morning.
But I don’t. I feel peaceful that everything will be okay.
So pray for me as I pray from my microwave. Strange… I don’t know what the lesson in all of this is yet.

The retreat

The weekend in Nelspruit was wonderful. I made a few purchases, made a few new friends, and felt revived. We did Beth Moore’s Loving Well study, and it really helped me to focus on the idea that I need to learn to love the unlovely, especially those that I’m close to.
One morning while I was doing my hair, I heard the Lord say that I’m home now.
Hmmm. Can’t say that I’m surprised. I’ve kinda been expecting that to come. But I’ve been feeling for a while, in spite of all the icky culture shock and such, that this is to be my new home and I need to begin building my life here. That’s not to say that I’ll never be back in the states, but as for now and this season of my life, Africa is home.
That’s hard to accept, because part of me has been trying to hang on to America with one hand. But I realize I severed all ties to the states, with the exception of my friends and family. I have no job there, no house, no car, no furniture, no toys, nothing!
But it’s helping my attitude, and accepting things. Instead of thinking, “why can’t things be like this or that,” I think “well this is where I live, and that’s how we do things here.” :0)

I love lots of things. I love my family. I love bacon. I love words that rhyme.
I obviously don’t have the same affection for all of these things, but in our English language, we only have one word, - ‘love’. In Greek, there are multiple words for love. One is ‘Agape’ which is a chosen, self sacrificing kind of love, - like what Christ shows for us. Another is ‘phileo’ which is a friendship love. Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, gets its name from this word. Sometimes you can have one or the other, sometimes you can have both.
For example, when I was born my mother (agape) loved me. A mother’s love for a child is intense and self-sacrificial, - but we weren’t friends. Now I am grown and we have a good relationship. Sure she still agape-loves me but now she has a phileo-love for me too. Bonus.
Well learning these things have revealed a new understanding for John 21. It use to confuse me in a lot of ways: Why was Peter fishing naked, and then why did he get dressed only to jump in the water and swim to shore? (That’s a technical fishing thing that I’ll save for a different day.) Why does Jesus keep asking the same question and saying the same thing? But now I think I see a little better what is going on.
You read it first:

15After breakfast Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" "Yes, Lord," Peter replied, "you know I love you." "Then feed my lambs," Jesus told him.
16Jesus repeated the question: "Simon son of John, do you love me?" "Yes, Lord," Peter said, "you know I love you." "Then take care of my sheep," Jesus said.
17Once more he asked him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved that Jesus asked the question a third time. He said, "Lord, you know everything. You know I love you." Jesus said, "Then feed my sheep. 18The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go wherever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and others will direct you and take you where you don't want to go." 19Jesus said this to let him know what kind of death he would die to glorify God. Then Jesus told him, "Follow me."
20Peter turned around and saw the disciple Jesus loved following them—the one who had leaned over to Jesus during supper and asked, "Lord, who among us will betray you?" 21Peter asked Jesus, "What about him, Lord?"
22Jesus replied, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You follow me." …
Do you understand my confusion?
So these are some things that have been pointed out in sermons, and some things I see here myself:
First, off Jesus and Peter are using 2 different words for love here. Also, this is the third time Jesus has appeared to his disciples since his resurrection, but the first time Peter has been there. Now remember, when Peter first recognized him as the Messiah, Jesus changed his name from Simon, to Peter. ‘Peter’ means, ‘the rock’ and he was to be the cornerstone of the church, but here, after he has denied Christ 3 times he’s getting called Simon again.
So it goes like this:
“Simon, do you Agape me more than these other guys?”
“Yes, Lord, you know we’re friends…”
“Then feed my lambs.”
Jesus, not ready to accept a quick off the cuff answer repeats the same question, this time just focusing on Peter.
“Simon, do you agape me?” He’s asking, ‘do you love me to the point of death? Would you give everything for me?'
Again, Peter answers, “Sure, Jesus, you know, we’re good buddies.
“Then take care of my sheep.”
Finally the last time, Jesus changes it up. He says, “Peter, are you my friend?”
And Peter gets upset when he’s asked this third time. He’s denied Christ 3 times and now has been asked to show his devotion 3 times, the last time what’s expected of him has been down-graded.
“Lord you know everything. You know I have can offer you only friendship love.”
“Then feed my sheep. The truth is, when you were young, you were able to do as you liked and go where ever you wanted to. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands and others will direct you and take you where you don’t want to go.”
Jesus has big things for Peter, the rock, to do for the kingdom. Again and again, Peter honestly tells him, ‘I only have enough love to love you like a brother.’ And again and again, Jesus replies, ‘if this is the kind of love you have for me, then this is what you can accomplish for my kingdom: You can feed some baby followers. You can take care of some older followers. You might even be able to feed some mature followers. But to do the kind of things I’m asking you to do, to fulfill the role I’ve given to you, to be “Peter,” to go and serve unto your own crucifixion, you need an all encompassing, passionate, sacrificial unto death kind of love.
Then Jesus repeats the first words he ever spoke to Peter, way back when he was still ‘Simon’
“Follow me”
Under the gun, Peter does what most of us would do… he looks around and finds another disciple to take the focus off of him. “Me?!...Hey, Jesus what about that guy?”
And Jesus refuses to change the subject. “What’s he to you? I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about you…Follow me.”
And the scene ends there. But we know that Peter will follow him, and eventually will develop that Agape love that will allow him to carry out his purpose, - even to death. What facilitated that, I dunno. You’d think witnessing the resurrection would have cemented it for him, but it obviously didn’t. Perhaps it was the empowerment of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2. Oh but that’s for another day…
But now after seeing and understanding this in scripture I have to ask, do I agape Jesus?

Forgiveness!

I have a good friend, but a few years back our friendship hit a rough patch. It was caused by several things and I always felt this kind of dark cloud hovering between us. We went through all of the friendship motions but we both knew there was a strain.
Then one night she sat me down. “I need to apologize for something. I’ve been holding anger against you for A,B,C, and The Lord has been dealing with me about this…”
And as she talked I saw where this was going. I remember getting so excited, not because she was making some kind of “I’m wrong/you’re right” confession, but because I saw we could heal our friendship! And when she finally finished with “…will you forgive me?” It was all I could do not to shout out “Of course I forgive you! I’m just happy to have my friend back!!!” That started a season where we each asked for forgiveness for things we’d done wrong towards the other, and now we have a great friendship again.
(I know you are reading this, I love you girl)
Well lookie what I found in the Bible today:
“O Lord you are so good, so ready to forgive,
so full of unfailing love for all of those who ask for your aid” Psalm 86:5
I can just picture God as I come to him to ask forgiveness. He’s not gloating, he’s not smug. He doesn’t have the “I-told-you-so” look on his face. He’s excited, and can’t even wait for the words to come out of my mouth. He can’t wait for me to finish speaking, because he knows where this is going. We get to be friends again! And He doesn’t mind shouting, “Of course I forgive you! I’m just happy to have my friend back!!!!”

As promised!

Here is a pic from our teachers Braai, two weeks ago. They have refused to load! These were two or the Chubby Bunny contestants. Surprisingly, neither of them won!

interesting thought

An interesting thought from Robert A Tucker, Author of Marriage and the Family: “ We are to see [children] as an eternal inheritance. Our children are the only earthly things that we can take to heaven. Our children must not become idols to us, nor should we favor them to their own destruction. But God wants us to invest our lives to see that they carry on in the purposes of God.”
Hmmm…Can’t take the car, the house, the PHD, the bank account, or the family pet. But we have to potential to take our children with us.

In case you didn't get my email..

It was an unexpected surprise. I stopped by the clinic to pick up a friend Nombti, and give her a ride back to the office. Then I saw some of my children there who were brought to be treated for colds, coughs, and other such things. I sat and chatted and hugged them.
“Christy. We need you, two minutes” Ncamiso said. “There is a woman here. She is very sick. She needs prayer.”
It was a small frail woman. Just shorter than I am, she can’t weigh more than 80 lbs. Sunken cheeks, dark eyes, and the tale tell lesions on the side of her face. She hobbled into the room and struggled to lower herself into the chair.
Ncamiso and Tbeko prayed for healing, but to be honest, I felt nothing leading me to pray that way.
She didn’t respond much.
I did feel led to pray against her root of rejection, - her struggle to receive the forgiveness she’d been promised though Christ, and her confidence to approach her heavenly Father boldly, without fear that He was angry with her.
When we were done, she sighed. “I feel warm. I feel warm on this side.” (the side I’d been laying hand on.) She looked no more healthy, but more peaceful.
As we left I asked her, “L- they say you are A-’s family?”
“Yes, he is my brother.”
The first person I prayed for here in Swaziland was “A-’s sister.” Unnamed, and unknown to me, I felt led to pray with him one day in the kombi. She was sick in the hospital, and he was so concerned for her. And today I met her face to face and got to hold her gentle hands in mine.
It was an unexpected surprise.

Cool Quote

“Don’t ask God to guide your footsteps, if you are not willing to move your feet.”
Don’t know who said, it, but I love it!

Part 2...Finally!

Wow! my readers have been getting restless! Hope you're not to disappointed with part 2. Nothing profound, just another day of being humbled. Here it is:

Okay so I wrote It’s not about me on Sunday evening, pressed ‘save’ and went to church.
Guess what the sermon was about…Obedience.
Not just obedience, but obedience with the right motives.
Ouch!
Yes I gave the lamps, I was obedient. But I did it for the wrong reasons. I gave them because I “had to” not because I had compassion for a woman alone in a new and scary place who might have wanted just a touch of home.
Galatians 6:18-23 says : But when you are directed by the Holy Spirit, you are no longer subject to the law . When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, your lives will produce these evil results: sexual immorality, impure thoughts, eagerness for lustful pleasure, idolatry, participation in demonic activities, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, divisions, the feeling that everyone is wrong except those in your own little group, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other kinds of sin…But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives, he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love joy peace patience, kindness goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Considering my actions and attitudes these past few weeks, I think it’s clear that I’m trying to be obedient to the law, not the spirit.
Sigh. No fun.
And it never works out anyway. :0)

Teacher's Braii

Last week we had a teacher workshop and a teacher braii with the American team from celebration church. The teachers really enjoyed it, and had a good time. Here are some pictures of the make-and-takes they did, as well as everyone’s favorite game, Chubby Bunny.
sorry. Some pics refuse to post.
I'll try later

It's not about me, Part 1

There is a woman here, who just moved to Swaziland. She’s living on a homestead, washing her clothes by hand, and sometimes days go by where she doesn’t hear English. Wow! And while she says she’s okay with the “roughing it” I know she’s struggling with being here and all of the changes. The Lord puts her on my heart often to pray for her and last week he told me to bless her with things for her house.
“Great idea Lord” I quickly went to my give away box and found some things I’d been meaning to get rid of. “ Hmmm, I have two these, maybe she’d like one…..this was given to me, but I don’t really need it…oh I don’t really like these, maybe she’s like to have them…”
Well then I thought I heard from Him again, but He must have mumbled. It sounded like he said to give her my two new lamps that I bought in Durban last weekend.
Oh but no, that couldn’t be Him. After all, I paid a lot of money for those lamps, and He wouldn’t just want me to waste my money like that. They were so new I didn’t even have light bulbs for them yet.
And I really needed those lamps for my nightstands. My bedroom is so dark after the sun goes down, -doesn’t the Lord want me to read my Bible at night to be real Holy and stuff? So no, that couldn’t have been Him.
But I kept having that feeling all week. I said to Susan, “I think I’m supposed to give C- something,” careful not to say what, in case she decided to hold me accountable.
“Oh, well she won’t be at bible study this week.”
Aha! I knew it! Those lamps are for me!
Just to prove that they were mine, I went to buy light bulbs (You’ve already read how well that went…maybe I should have gotten a clue.) and set my heart of giving this woman a duvet and an extra set of measuring spoons.
So with my light bulbs in hand (being extra careful not to break because they are so fragile) I went to my loft determined to use my lamps. Mine mine mine. These bulbs you push down and then twist the prongs into the groves of the lamp.
Push and twist.
Didn’t work.
Push harder. Nope.
Push harder.
“It’s going to break in your hand Christy. Stop now. ”
“No it’s fine, I can get it.” I put my spiritual fingers in my ears and sang “la, la, la, I can’t hear you.”
Pushandtwistpushandtwistpushandtwist.
“I’m trying to protect you Christy. If you push any harder, it will break and cut your hand. Stop now. These are not your lamps.”
“No! I want to use my lamps… I’ll… I’ll…” (Then I had the light bulb moment, -no pun intended.) “… I’ll take off my sweat jacket and wrap the sleeve around the bulb, so if it breaks, it won’t cut me! Yes, I’ll do that and make it work. I want to use my lamps.”
“Listen to yourself, Christy…”
I realized I’d gone stark raving mad. I was so determined to keep and use these stupid lamps I was thinking up ways to get around what the Lord was trying to warn me would inevitably happen in my disobedience.
I did my huffy voice at Him, “Fine! I’ll give her the lamps!”
I went down stairs to SMS C- to let her know I had something for her. I was pretty sure that if I did that “act of obedience” He’d at least let me use the lamps until I saw her in two weeks.
Instead she invited me to meet for lunch.
“Lord,” still in huffy voice, “I don’t get you… now I’m just going to have to go and buy new lamps, when I’ve already bought two perfectly good lamps. That’s just dumb.”
Well, that got me thinking… What did the Lord plan to do with all of this?
Hmmmm….. Maybe I’ll give her these lamps, and she’ll bust out in joyful tears and gush out she’s been praying for two adorable lamps for weeks and just fall all over herself…or, better yet, maybe this is an Abraham and Isaac thing where, I just have to be willing to give them up, and then she will say “No thank you I already have two super-cute lamps” and I’d get to keep them! Yes!
So this morning as I got prepared to meet her, I was kinda excited about the whole thing. We met, had a nice visit, ate lunch, and then went to my truck.
I gave her the lamps (good-bye my babies), and she responded with a normal amount of gratitude. “Oh wow! Thanks, these are nice.”
Bummer. No lamp keeping, no gushing, just two less lamps.
So what’s the lesson I’ve learned from this?
The same one I’ve been learning the past 4 years.
It’s not about me.
God’s main purpose in life is not to make me fat and happy.
It’s not about me.
I’m called to be obeidient, and if that means denying self, then so be it.
It’s not about me.
Life is not about living for me, it’s about living for Him.
It’s not about me.
...Please stay tuned for Part 2, which happened minutes after writing this...

I love this picture

Owwwwwwww!

Do you see what I did?!!!! I was curling my eyelashes and my arm spasmed. I sat there in horrified shock when I saw lots and lots of eyelashes remaining behind! I ran to the mirror for closer inspection. Yes, the outer lashes were fine, but the inner lashes have been thinned out! Owwwww! I actually have a bald spot on my lash line.

This weekend

The Swazi times were advertising a movie! The Simpsons Movie was being shown at the Royal Swazi convention center. Now considering Swaziland doesn’t have a movie theater, I was very excited about this. I don’t know if I would have paid to see this in the states, but here, I’ll take what I can get.
At the Bargain price of $25E, I hurried to make plans with my friend, British Emma. (Okay… her name is just Emma, but British Emma describes her accented charm.)
Now I must say I was open minded to the whole Swazi movie experience. I didn’t know what to expect. Would it be a proper movie, or one of those pirated DVD that they sell on the street? Would it be on a real screen, or would it be on a laptop with a projector? Would we all be sitting in folding chairs? Would the Swazi’s insist on answering their cell phones, as they do in every other setting?
We arrived at the convention center a few minute before the advertised starting time (remember nothing start on time here.) It was a nice auditorium and they were selling chips and cans of soda. We picked out very plush cozy seats and they even had the little desktops that fold out in front of you to set your goodies (imagine a much nicer college lecture desk.)
We waited another 20 minutes before it began as lots of anxious movie goers filed in.
“Ah…..I think we’re the only adults here, mate”
I looked around and she was right. The room was filled with children! Oh no!
Now, being it was in Ezulwini, (where the rich people seem to live) most of these children were not Swazi. They were American, British, White South African, Nigerian, etc. And being from better off families, I can only assume they have satellite tv, and are familiar with the TV show. What were the parents doing sending their children to see the Simpsons?!!!!!!!!
I sat there cringing through the whole movie, thinking, “What are these kids thinking about all of this strangling, and ugly talk. They obviously missed all of the adult humor, all of the jabs at American politics,- in fact they only laughed at Homer being hit in the face with a tree, and Bart being naked.
To top it off, the family in front of us had an adorable toddler who was much too active to sit still through the whole movie. They just let her go walking up and down the isle. At one point I coaxed her into my row and held her on my lap for the rest of the movie. When the lights came back up they casually looked around for her. They just smiled and laughed when they saw her on the white lady’s lap. “Awwww. Isn’t that cute?” But then again, I guess in a culture where people are trying to get rid of their kids, there’s no threat of kidnapping is there? No one wants an extra one.
But overall I was happy to see a movie, even if it did get my maternal instinct all up in a dander.
PS Craig- the Simpsons spent part of the time in Alaska. Homer promoted it as, “Alaska, where you can never be too fat or too drunk. And no one ever asks to see your ‘High school equivelant exam.’” And it looked very cold… I don’t think I can come and visit you now.

Culture shock part 2

Grrrr!
I was trying to have a good day.
But it's the culture shock!
I'm so tired that nothing is familiar, and nothing is normal, and everything is a new learning experience.
Everything.
I had to get 2 items,- batteries and light bulbs. I thought "How hard could it be?"
(If you've ever been to Africa you are already laughing. You know where this is going...)
I told myself, "Christy, you can do this. It will be fine. Just go to Clicks, you know that store. It will be easy."
So I park Punkin in the parking garage (that's my truck's name) and go to Clicks.
I go to the batteries.
I call my teacher Mary on my cell, "What size did you need?"
"R20ppj..."
"...What?...is that a size?..."
AA, AAA, 9volt, C, D... what size is R20ppj?
I looked and looked until I figured out it is D.
Fine.
I asked a man for light bulbs.
Blank stare.
"Light bulbs?...maybe I'm not saying it right... to go into a lamp?"
"Oh yes, this way."
He took me to the photo albums.
"No. No. Light bulbs. For a lamp. (miming screwing a light bulb in.)"
"Huh?...li- buh?"
"LIIIIIIIT Bullllb. LIIIIIIIIIT Bullllb."
"Oh!" he took me to the bulbs (they are called globes here.)
To my dismay they are different too. Yes they have 60 watts, but some you screw in, and some you push onto prongs, and I had no idea what my new lamps took.
Sigh, I left without a li buh.
I went back to my garage and found my punkin with a clamp.
What?
I called the # given, and they sent a (swazi) security guard who told me I would have to pay a fine. Go figure. I was fighting back tears, when the (south african) manager arrived.
"Why is it on my car? What did I do?"
"This spot is reserved... Do you see where it says 'African Alliance'?"
I had seen the sign, but didnt' know what it meant. I don't exactly know who the African Alliance is, but appearantly, I'm not part of it."
I just gave up and let the tears flow, "But I didn't know..."
The manager was very understanding and just let me off with a warning. (Don't judge me. I swear I've never cried my way out of anything before.) He told the guard to un-boot Punkin and let me go without a fee, and left.
"Thank you, thank you I appreciate it" I said to the guard.
I guess expecting a "you're welcome" or "pleasure" was asking a bit much.
"Can you go and buy me a drink now?" He asked.
ARE YOU FLIPPIN' KIDDIN' ME?!!!!!!
I was irrate!
Tears gone.
Stone faced.
"No."
I got in my car and drove off.
GRRRRRRRR.