Untukmu Para Pengunjung

The last two nights I've woken myself up from a deep sleep laughing. I feel sorry for John, but I obviously couldn't help it - my dreams were just very funny. One of them was about a childhood play that my brothers and sisters and I put on about Goldilocks and the Three Bears, and the other one was about negotiating about meat prices in the rural areas (and I was laughing because of how Zimbabwean I've become). Actually, there have been a few times lately where I've noticed how Zimbabwean I am - like when I spend a million dollars without thinking about it, or I join a queue without knowing what it's for (but it's got to be for something good - like bread or sugar - if people are lining up!) or I look at what other people are carrying (like eggs) and then think, "I wonder where she got those? I wonder if there are any left?"

It's good to laugh because there is simply too much to cry about it. Last week after church a young man came up to John and asked who he was. John said his name, and then the man said, "oh good, I have something for you - from God." It was a fresh painting - very nouveau art with the whole paper being covered in dark green and brown. And it smelled like a toilet. The event was so random that I broke out into giggles, and could not even stop them to greet people properly. In Francistown I approached a security guard at the mall and asked where I could find the washroom. He was confused, so I said, "sorry, I mean the toilet" and his response was - "why do you want to wash in the toilet?" Crazy white people!

P.S. Happy Birthday to my Grandma - a courageous woman of prayer who has kind eyes and a wonderful laugh. We love you! xo

‘I didn’t touch his fucking dick’
‘Puck You Miss’
‘That so random!’

Have you heard any of these saying in the last week?

Summer Heights High is everywhere, it has even started to infect the lexicon of many Young Australians.

In the 1960’s, Ernest Dichter the ‘father of motivational research’ changed the way we look at word of mouth with his seminal article ‘How Word of Mouth Advertising Works’. He came up with four motivations for people to pass on commercial messages. They were Product involvement, Self involvement, Other involvement (altruism) and Message involvement.

Message Involvement involved a thing called ‘verbal play’; this is when an aspect of an advertisement campaign is repeated between friends, it may range from a catchy tune to certain behaviour. This behaviour is then repeated in a number of times in differing environments.

This is what is occurring with Summer Heights High at the moment. My week at Australian Uni Games made it interesting to see ‘message involvement’ play out. Words had been intertwined into a lot of the conversations I was having. It seems each week the audience is given a new lexicon of terms to use. People who did not watch the show felt left out of the joke, when it came around to Wednesday night, we had a few SHH virgins watching for the first time. Through the fear of being on the outer, people watched the show to make sure they were in on the joke the next time around. The original audience is acting as the salesmen for the shows future episodes.

SHH has gone beyond verbal play outs as well, the other day while checking a friends facebook I had seen that someone had used the graffiti function which allows others to draw on friends walls and they had done the ‘dicktation’ symbol from the first episode.



Dictation - Jonah Takalua - Summer Heights High

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Here is my first article on Summer Heights High Fandom (Social Media Integration)

Update
I took of the comments on this post because it was getting filled with Spam. If you have something to add feel free to comment it on the other post. Damn SPAMMERS!

Life in the season of influenza. This is a hard time of year in Zimbabwe… Sorry, I just had a coughing fit and now I can’t remember what I was writing.

I’m going to live. I’m popping antibiotics like they’re candy. Well, I’m taking them twice daily with plenty of water. I’m supposed to be at home resting, but it’s too quiet there. And other than the coughing, I feel much better. Except for the brief moments of dizziness, nasal congestion, ear pressure and that faint-throbbing sensation at the front of my head.

It’s nice talking with you (whoever you are). With Rochelle traveling so much I’ve had no one to talk to during the days or evenings. Last night I sat in my dark house (no electricity, no phone service) and spoke to the giant wall spiders in my living room. Of course they didn’t talk back (I’d be crazy if I thought that could happen) but one of the spiders did seem to understand me when I said that I’d have to get rid of him before my mother-in-law visited. The spider responded by quickly moving to our wall of pictures and stopping over the face of Rochelle. I’m not sure if that was his idea of a threat or not, but I’m not going to take any chances. I guess my mother-in-law will have to stay somewhere else when she visits.

I’m fairly introverted and a bit of a loner, so I’ve been surprised by how lonely I get living here. People are nice to me, and I suppose that I have many friends, but our conversations are quite limited. For example, last night two of my neighbours visited me to see how I was doing. Here’s an excerpt from our conversation:

“…Thanks for visiting. I’m doing much better but I still have a bad cough. I went to the doctor yesterday and he said that I have a chest infection and he gave me a prescription for antibiotics. I should be fine in a few days.”

“Well, you should see a doctor. Why haven’t you seen a doctor?”

(Right! Wait, it gets better.)

“…Rochelle’s away in Karoi for a few days. She went there with World Vision to explore some ways our organizations can partner together to fight HIV/AIDS. She should be back Friday night.”

“Good. So, where is Rochelle this evening? Is she home?”

(I had three similar conversations/miscommunications yesterday. Perhaps it’s my crazy Canadian accent?)

Rochelle is my primary friend, so when either of us travels, it becomes quite lonely for the other. I don’t know a single person here who would be interested in hearing about the last five books I’ve read. That’s not a bad thing, but it sucks for me. So all I talk about with my friends is The Salvation Army, the weather and the lack of bread and meat in the shops. And, of course, the constant greetings throughout the day (How are you? I’m fine if you’re fine…) Oh, wait, I almost forgot the ongoing discussion about why Rochelle and I have no children. Those are fun, too.

I went out for lunch today. I had some chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables. Yesterday I had a potato for lunch and canned grapefruit for supper. The day before I had canned guava and an orange for lunch and then half a bowl of Kraft Dinner. Monday I had an orange and a red freeze-it (so cool on my sore throat). This was the tastiest day of the week. And probably the most nutritious. Don’t worry, Mom. I’m getting enough food.

There’s a man screaming outside. I think he’s in the parking lot of the medical clinic next door to my office. I’m not sure what sort of clinic it is, but I often hear people shouting or screaming. This does little to ease my fear and mistrust of the medical profession. Thankfully my doctor does not work there. He’s actually a nice man, considering that he sticks needles into people.


Here's a photo of Rochelle's new hairstyle. She's posing with Florence Pamacheche. Wait a minute, that can't be Rochelle. It must be John.

I get TIME magazine now. There's always something interesting... like the Chinese government trying to create legislation on re-incarnation (honestly - I can understand that governments like control - but trying to control re-incarnation!) or like half of the world's weapons being housed in the U.S. for private citizens (I know Canadians can tend to be a bit anti-American, but you have to admit that this is CRAZY!). I also read this fascinating article on the popularity of bottled water, and its environmental consequences. I have to admit that when EVIAN first came out, I thought, "there is NO way that people are going to pay for water - when you can get it for free!" Especially thinking that evian backwards is naive!!! And yet people do. I can't say I've never bought a bottle of water, but at home I always just drank from the tap. And trust me, now that I have to boil all of our water, I miss the beautiful luxury of just bringing a glass to the tap and drinking the sweet nectar. Seriously... sometimes we North Americans are crazy...

There was another very interesting article recently on Mother Teresa's "confessions" that after she heard the call of God to the poorest of the poor, she no longer felt the presence of God for decades, and yet was still faithful. Woah - I admire that. Personally I think I would go insane if I didn't feel the presence of God for more than a couple of months. I can't imagine for decades. I've always admired Mother Teresa for her simplicity, self-sacrificing love, Christ-likeness and joy. This makes me admire her even more.

John was feeling a bit better on Saturday, but now he's got a chest infection, so he's on anti-biotics and "house arrest" for a week.

I just came back from Karoi on a ZUPCO bus. Public transport is starting to wear on me... I've realized that I value fresh air a lot. I don't value getting hit on (must be my stunning new haircut!). And it really bothers me to see the way people are treated so badly. I know it's a stereotype, but most public transit is run by young men who are quite corrupt! There's a driver, and one or two conductors (to take tickets, etc.) Government buses (ZUPCO) have to be monitored, so the conductors tell you a price (this morning - $520,000) and then write that price on the ticket (that gets inspected) but you actually have to pay more ($600,000) so that the conductor pockets some. One lady on our bus paid extra so that we dropped her off right at her house. People shouted and yelled "unfair!" but it didn't make a difference. Money talks.

This country has an 80% unemployment rate, and I'm assuming that's climbing because I have conversations with people every day who are considering leaving their work because they can't live off of their salary (I met a teacher yesterday who gets paid $60,000/month. One loaf of bread - if you can find bread - is $30,000). I'm almost afraid to ask kids what they want to be when they grow up, because I don't know what their options are. I remember asking a kid in Regent Park what his dream job would be - "cook at Kentucky Fried Chicken - but I know I have to work really hard if I want to do that." I don't know if it's wrong, but I wished more for him. And I wish more for Zimbabwean kids than cross-border trading or taking people's money in a crowded kombi. But what are the options? This morning I was thinking that if there was war in this country, all of these young men would take up arms (by the way - "A long way gone" - Ishmael Beah - awesome book about the experience of a child soldier).

Before writing this post I must disclose that I live in France, love the country and people and am married to a French woman and my kids are by the result, half French/half English.

So, moving on, I drove to Nantes on Saturday to watch the England V Samoa world cup rugby match. It was a hugely significant fixture for us English, firstly because we are the current Champions and secondly because we had to win otherwise we would be out.

The stadium at Nantes is small, seats around 37,000. When the national anthems were played, the stadium rocked with "God save the Queen" and was silent during the Samoan anthem, out of respect and the fact they probably had 100 supporters in the stadium. As soon as the game started, the atmosphere was absolutely electric, "Swing Low" could be heard throughout the stadium. England scored early and everything seemed great. Then Jonny Stepped up to take his first conversion kick..

The crowd, a huge number, started to boo. The fans surrounding me wearing English shirts, looked at one and other stunned, surely the English haven't turned against our World Cup hero. Then the blue beret's came out, the seemingly "English" fans around us were French, not only that, some were even wearing England shirts. This abuse continued through-out the game, every time the Samoans pushed forward the stadium would chant "Allez les Bleus". The French in the stand appeared to outnumber the English, certainly their voices anyway.

Tempers were rising within the stand, the English were clearly annoyed with the torrent of boo's and "allez". One young guy stood up and shouted "Don't cry for me Argentina", the crowd just stared at him blankly. Another guy was asking a large group of "suits" whether they would be angry if their team was constantly booed, again, blank faces..

I have been to many International rugby matches and have never seen this before, the atmosphere was ruined, killed by those chanting and booing. Normally, you would expect banter within the crowd, as the week before at South Africa, very light hearted and plenty of joking around. Many people had traveled for over 16 hours to get there, costing €105 for the ticket alone plus the associated travel costs on top of that. Those sat next to me were shocked and annoyed that they were unable to enjoy the atmosphere.

Why did they do it? I am still at a loss, ultimately, it was probably the only chance many of the locals would have of watching a World cup game, should they have done it? No, absolutely not, would you? Maybe I am just being too sensitive.

Below is a clip from my camera giving an idea of the noise surrounding us.

I will be taking a week off from the blog. I am going to the Australian University Games on the Gold Coast to do a indepth immersion into ‘Generation Y and consumption culture’. Wish me luck, as on these ethnographic studies you often put your body on the line in the name of science.

If you were wondering I will be playing on the Monash Mini Golf Team (MGT) so look out in the local papers for our results. Or if you are on the Gold Coast feel free to come along to one of our games starting around 8:30PM on Cavill Ave.

John has got the flu. It's so hard to see the one you love sick. Last night some friends came to pray for him. The first group was a bunch of 6 young boys. One boy said, "we want sweets" but an older boy corrected him - "no, that's not why we came. We came to pray for John." Their prayers were so cute, that I had to give them sweets afterwards! Our adult neighbour was a bit less reassuring: "you really should go see the doctor and get an injection. My uncle had the exact same flu as you last week and we buried him on the weekend." Well, that's blunt reality! I can't get used to this eerie idea of possibility of death whenever someone is slightly ill. So many people at work are saying to me, "don't worry Rochelle, John will make it!" It's just a flu, right? Please pray...

Melbourne Healthy Burger franchise ‘Grilld’ is the first to have a stab at the riding the coat tails of the upcoming Australian election. With the national election looming it seems that there will be a number of brands jumping on the political band wagon.

Grilld have set up the Vote Grilld, the reason behind it is to help decide the three new burgers for the range and to get a larger Customer database. There are three parties the Green party, Republican United Meats Party and Right Wings Party.

The video is a little weak, don’t know what they are trying to do with the voice. The instore promotion is very strong with ballot boxes, political posters and the staff wearing Vote 1 badges. I will try to get some photos up soon.

This morning on my run I noticed a head of cauliflower on the road. Obviously a truck had dropped it, and it had been run over once, but was quite big. As I approached, I noticed an old man eyeing the cauliflower, his eyes looking around furtively to see who might be watching him. He scrambled to the road and grabbed the cauliflower, putting it in his bag. As I jogged by him, I smiled and said good morning, and I realized it was an old man. And he looked worried - like I would judge him or try to take the cauliflower from him. Really, I just wished more for him. I wished he could be at home, sipping tea with grandchildren on his lap - remembering the good old days and laughing about incidents in his past. Instead he's just fighting to survive. Give us this day our daily cauliflower...

Firstly, before I detail my tips and experiences gained when watching the Rugby in Paris, I thought I ought to point out the following... Before you travel to Paris, be under no illusion, the beer is more expensive, the locals hate tourists and there is practically nothing written in any language other than French and finally, always have your passport in your pocket, if stopped by the Police, they will want to see it straight away. On the other hand, France is totally excited by the World Cup, has a fantastic public transport system and if you take something from my tips, you will have a great time.

The findings were all discovered on Friday 14^th September, the day England seemingly surrendered their world crown at the 2007 Rugby World Cup.

Getting to the stadium is pretty easy, take the RER train directly to the Stade de France, it takes around 20 minutes from the centre of the city, very cheap and one train every few minutes. Outside the stadium you can sense a major event is about to take place, everyone is excited and on top form, people walk alongside opposing fans, chatting about who will win and why. All the way from the station at St Dennis to the Stadium the streets are filled with people selling merchandise, nasty looking kebabs and cans of beer from cool boxes. There are many bars en route and plenty of opportunity to buy tickets from touts. This walk takes around 10-15 minutes.

Arriving at the stadium you are thrust into a cauldron of noise and excitement, people singing, bands playing music, people dancing and fans of all ages from 3 to 90 years old (it seemed). There are plenty of Heineken stands and although really overpriced (7€ per pint) there are plenty drinking. Everyone is happy and there are a few bands playing tunes relevant to the fans surrounding them (although not sure about Tom Jones’ deliliah). TV crews interview people and the paparazzi will snap anybody wearing something unusual, the most popular when I was there were the two guys in South African kit wearing Nelson Mandela masks. One big tip outside, there are no big screens, do not arrive thinking you can watch a game before.

During the game and inside the stadium there are plenty of bars and food places, serving the usual fare, toilets as ever are a major problem as there aren’t enough.

After the game, all of the “beer tents” remain open, many were celebrating, many were drinking to forget. All in all, i’d summarise the atmosphere as being one big party, many fans left the ground through fear of not getting home and missing the last train, the woman I spoke to at the RER said that they run the trains until everyone is gone, I got the train at 12.30am (after shaking hands with a certain Martin Johnson outside the media zone)

Top Tips at a glance

1. Get RER train to Stade de France
2. Get there 2-3 hours before kick-off and enjoy the build up outside.
3. Have a beer after the game and miss the rush
4. If you want to watch a game before make sure you do it in a bar en route, nothing at the stadium
5. Not got a ticket? Plenty are selling on behalf of friends that couldn’t make it, you will watch the game next to them but..?
6. Go to toilet 2 mins before half finishes
7. Take the whole family without fear, no trouble and great atmosphere.
8. Instead of buying a program (€8) wait until after, loads are left under seats!

Technorati Profile

"I just don't understand why our leaders wants us to suffer so much."

I was talking to a friend this morning, and these were his words. I had to admit to him that I don't understand this either. The state media tells us all of Zimbabwe's problems are due to Western racism and sanctions. The independent media tells us they are due to government corruption, greed and mismanagement. Either way, whatever the cause, good leaders should do their best to take care of their people, right? ALL of their people. I thought this was a given in leadership, but it's not.

"It's hard to believe that the Zimbabweans aren't rising up and demanding change."

This was said to me by a random lady on the street this morning. It is surprising, and we always wonder, "how bad do things have to get before people demand change?" Pius Ncube recently resigned from being the Archbishop of Bulawayo. He was one of the government's harshest critics, and he resigned because of some state media photos of him sleeping with a married woman. He is detested by the government; in part because he always urges people to rise up against torture, forced starvation and other human rights abuses. And yet people rarely speak out, never mind rise up. Scared silence reigns. Zimbabweans are fiercely proud of their peaceful, non-violent reaction to any situation. And of course there are severe consequences for having even a hint of disrespect for the government.

"You'll want to stay here forever, right?"

This was said to us by one of our neighbours. She conceded that the economy is quite bad, but said that in comparison with other countries, Zimbabwe is still one of the best in Africa. Ignorance is bliss, I guess. In other African countries we've been to, there is food on the shelves, fuel at the pumps, hopes that things will get better rather than worse... but I think it's better that people here don't know that or don't believe that. It might be too painful.

"Happy Birthday James"

This was said by us to John's favourite brother - have a great day today!!!

Here is another E-Cultrual Hijacking for you;



Arsebook parodies the Online Social Network giant Facebook.

Check out some past E-Cultural Hijackings

Zune Balmer
Error Message for Ad Agency
Youtube and Spanish Blood Bank

So, I forgot to bring a sweater on the weekend, and the evenings were a bit cool. My room-mate (who is a beautiful friend who always shows me grace) said it was no problem - she would lend me something. It turned out to be a big fur coat. It was a beautiful coat, but a bit extravagant for my tastes! Friday night we went to the praise meeting, and it had already started, so everyone was seated and singing. John and I were supposed to sit on the platform/stage, but there weren't enough seats left, so John suggested we go sit on the ground. Because of the crowds, the only way we could get there is to walk down the steps at the front of the stage in front of the whole crowd. In a crowd of 10,000 women there were only 3 white people. It was already hard to blend in without the fur coat! Anyway, we went. I hurriedly put my mutigida (wrapper) on the ground so that we could sit on it. Then John noticed that the ground was wet, so he was urging me to get up and go back up the steps, but I was embarassed to be making a scene. I wanted to stay put, but then the lady next to us pointed out that it was sewage that was making the ground wet. So, me, my husband, and my newly procured fur coat went back up the steps and sat on the ground on the platform. Thankfully the sewage didn't affect the new fur coat. I laugh every time I think about it, but at the time, I was just humiliated! Ah, it's good to be humble...

At least in one conversation a day I will hear some reference to Summer Heights High. The ABC show has reached tipping point. SHH is a comedy mockumentary about two students (Jonah Takalua and Ja’mie King) and a drama teacher (Mr. G) at a Public School in Melbourne.

The show is a run away success but there are a number of other interesting phenomena happening around the show. The support online for the show is phenomenal. I think this is so important for television shows because people can immerse themselves to a deeper level and interact with the content at different times. For instance I had some friends over for dinner last night and we went on youtube and watched the Jonah Montage from last episode.

The following is a documentation of the support from Social Media for the television show.

1. Vodcast
They have decided to release it on vodcast. It is now the highest rating Podcast in Australia after only 2 episodes. Following the success of the ABC’s The Chaser War on Everything and Media Watch vodcasts.

2. Online Social Networks
They have also set up Myspace Pages for the characters. The reason the Myspace page works so well is the constant information stream, people have something new to say every week after the episodes are released. Ja’mie King currently has 24,000 plus friends.

There are a number of facebook groups in their name two of the most popular

Summer Heights High Appreciation Society
500 members

Fans of Jonah Takalua and Polynesian Pathways
820 members

Youtube

They have also released video montages of the specific characters, my favourite being Jonah has had 150,000 hits for his first play and 23,000 for his second.

Homesite
They home site leaves a lot to the imagination with a dress up game which is an email to a friend. Would of worked better if it was an application on Facebook which people could send to friends.

I haven’t finished with this beast called Summer Heights High in future weeks I will be posting on SHH and;

Word of Mouth/ Social Currency

Consumer Insights

New audience for the ABC

We just got back from the Home League Centenary celebrations. The Home League was created in 1907 to help women in The Salvation Army learn about how to properly take care of their households in a godly fashion. As a child of officers (Salvation Army pastors) I attended home league meetings in Canada with my siblings to entertain the ladies with singing and drama. I didn't picture myself joining home league as an adult until I had a bit more grey hair. However, I was really blessed to be one of the 10,000 women to celebrate being women. Our theme was "Women in Mission: While Women Weep." I have long admired African women for their joy, their faith, their capacity to absorb pain, their capacity to put everyone else's needs above their own, their capacity to take care of others no matter what the circumstances, and their ability to praise no matter what. There's also nothing like a big hug from a "traditionally-built" African woman! I was challenged this weekend to praise rather than to despair. It's so easy for me to become discouraged, to complain, to worry, to despair... and yet the way of African women is to carry on by grace, and to trust and praise God through anything. I was challenged and blessed. The singing and dancing on the weekend was awesome, and I danced my heart out as usual. I was a bit alarmed in one song when an old lady kept smiling at me, and then grabbing her breasts, but she was very happy! We had special guests from Zambia, informational talks on menopause, breast cancer and inheritance laws, Bible studies, dramas, a fashion show, and lots of praise & worship. A low-light was in the final meeting when the sewage system exploded right near the stage, but a high-light was seeing thousands of women dancing and singing and praising God. We also ate a lot of meat on the weekend... more in the last 3 days than we've had in the past 3 months! Ah, God is good.

Well if you haven’t seen it yet, Chris Crocker (internet celebrity of Youtube and Myspace blogging fame) empathetic claim to stop picking on Britney.

But what I find interesting about it is a blogging story is producing enough attention to be picked up and run in the traditional media channels. Another sign of the times that blogging is becoming a powerful medium.

A piss take by Seth Green


And here is another funny video mash up of Tyra Banks and Britney.

They are doing great stuff globally, quite an innovative campaign for a brand that you would presume to be pushing the new media boundaries. Here is my previous post on Elle Mac Intimates Youtube appearance.

I'm back! I see that John is the preferred blogger in our family, but sorry - you're back to me. He's on strike again. (Oh and by the way - don't stop sending chocolate - I'm usually around to monitor John's addictive personality...) This one's long... sorry.

The good news: Being in Francistown
Our time in Botswana was a blessing. Despite all the logistical nightmares of the school, whenever I am with the students, I am grateful to God for the Z.S.Y.L. Leadership development is important in any context, but especially in Zimbabwe it is crucial that non-selfish, non-corrupt leaders who will care about all of their people are raised up to lead this nation. Botswana was good. It felt wonderful to be in a country with food in the shops, fuel at the pumps, and electricity. The Salvation Army is brand new in Francistown, so we were encouraging the families there, and trying to reach out to the community.

The cross-cultural exposure was good for our students. Most of them are used to being in the majority group, and to being in a Salvation Army that is huge and well-known. It was good for them to struggle to communicate, and to get exposure of being a persecuted minority (there are lots of Zimbabweans in Francistown, but they are mostly unwelcome). We did open-airs and door-to-door, "fishing" at the malls, and visitation. We had to leave early because we found out we were putting the families we were staying with at risk of deportation by being in such a large group. And we also learned that one of the guys on our team lost his mother and so he needed to get back for the funeral.

The bad news: The journey
OK, I know mature people are supposed to enjoy the journey just as much as the destination, but for me, the journey to and from Botswana was like a huge, long game of survival of the fittest. We left Braeside (our neighbourhood) at 4:30 on Friday morning. We got the 6:00am bus direct to Francistown at Mbare, and started the 600km journey to Francistown, Botswana. Public transport here is sort of like a crowded TTC subway - but for hours on end. We stopped in Bulawayo and I heard a rumour that we needed a few minutes for servicing. 6 hours later we were back on the road. In typically over-patient Zimbabwean style, everyone accepted this long delay without questions or complaints. We arrived at the border at about 7:00pm. Then we joined the LONG queue waiting outisde of the immigration offices. I felt like we were a long line of refugees - trying to flee to a country that has food. We weren't individuals with our own stories, personalities, hopes and histories. We were just a mass of people trying to survive. And of course there were all the secretive figures approaching us and whispering about trading Zim dollars on the blackmarket. It got really cold and so people started taking towels and blankets out of their bags to keep warm. Finally around 12:30am we got to the front of the line. There were soldiers barking orders and yelling "move over here!" "faster! don't waste time!" etc. The immigration officials were so rude. I was sent back to fill out my entry form twice, and some people next to me were threatened to go back to the end of the 6 hour queue. I felt like a criminal, and it was made very clear to me that Zimbabweans may be tolerated, but they are definitely not welcomed in Botswana. There's a huge difference.

Finally we all arrived back on the bus and started the one hour journey to Francistown. I prayed for grace - just one more hour! After half an hour we stopped on the side of the road, and people started getting out of the bus to pee in the bushes. I decided to hold it - we could see the lights of Francistown, and I could almost feel my bed. Then the engine stopped. We were spending the night on the side of the road! I cannot tell you my devastation. The bus was very stuffy, and I started to have a panic attack about not being able to breathe. I could open the window above me a crack, and my saving grace was that sometimes a car would drive by us, and I would get 2 seconds of fresh air. It sounds over-dramatic, but it was one of the hardest nights of my life. The entire 5 hours I was begging God to let me fall asleep and trying to keep my breathing steady. Finally - after 27 hours we made it.

Coming back was a bit easier. We had to wait a while for transport at the border, but we did get into a bus. There weren't any chickens, but every available space was taken up by people and televisions. A lot of women are making a living by being cross-border traders. The top of the bus was packed with t.v.s and groceries, as was the whole bus. The door was blocked entirely, so if anything ever happened, no one would have been able to get out. 6 hours before arriving back in Harare, some acid was spilled at the front of the bus. We were all chocking and coughing - and I felt so badly for the 3 week old baby who was right beside the acid spil. I prayed for almost 12 hours straight - a simple prayer, "Lord, bring me home to John safely and in good health" over and over again.

In Canada, if I was going on a long journey, I would pray for safety. But I didn't think much about whether or not I would make it to my destination. Here, I think about it a lot. I guess I've just become a lot more aware of my mortality here, and a lot more thankful for each day that God wakes me up and keeps me healthy. When we heard that Lawrence's mom died, the TYS pulled him aside and told him, then reported to me "he knows and he has accepted it" and then it was back to business. Later I asked him how he was feeling and he started to cry, but right away he was told to stop crying and be courageous - he's a man. Death is just so greedy here...

Well, she won’t fit in our bookshelf, but Rochelle has returned. Early. This morning. To me. I haven’t seen her yet, but I did speak to her on the phone. She was dropped off in town, on a street called Rotten Row. Sounds appealing, doesn’t it? She traveled on a hot sticky overcrowded chicken bus. They call them chicken buses because every available space, including the roof, is filled with chickens, furniture, vegetables and screaming children. Chicken buses either slant to the right or the left, depending on the weight of the goods piled on top. They are quite comical to watch on the road, horrific to experience. The trip to Botswana took her 27 hours, but I’m not sure how long it took to return. Or whether she had a seat or had to stand. What I do know is that she traveled all night, so she will go home and rest for the day. And I will need to be exceptionally pleasant and supportive for the next few days, particularly since I backed out of the Botswana trip.

We both leave tomorrow morning for Munyati, where we will be attending a four-day women’s celebration. My job is to take hundreds of photos and try not to get too sunburned. Rochelle’s job is to be a woman and sing songs while trying not to get too sunburned. Perhaps on Saturday we can shake things up a bit and have Rochelle take photos while I try being… well, maybe sunburned.

This is my third day with no chocolate. I can live without it. This is my third day with no chocolate. I can live without it. This is my third day with no chocolate. I can live without it. Sometimes it’s helpful to repeat things that aren’t true but which you really want to believe. Even the sound of the word chocolate is sweet on the mouth, compared to the harshness of beef, pork, carrot, pepper. If chocolate was really so unhealthy, it would have a dangerous name like garlic or cardamom or cabbage.

Our home continues to be a fascination for the children living on our compound. Yesterday a small girl walked into our living room (the children don’t seem to knock anymore) and stood in the middle. She didn’t want to talk, just stood motionless while her eyes moved from one area of the room to another, studying everything. I tried speaking with her, but she remained quiet. I even spoke in Shona – most of the children don’t speak English – but she didn’t want to talk. After five minutes of watching her stand there, I picked up my book and started reading. She stood there for 15 minutes without saying a word. I’m not a doctor or a psychologist, but I think she might need a prescription for chocolate. Unless (and I'm just considering this now) she wasn't really there at all...

We received some new books in the mail, which will hopefully keep us entertained for the next few months. We’ve got Banville’s The Sea and The Untouchable, Ondaatjes’ Divisadero, Hearn’s The Harsh Cry of the Heron, Hussein’s A Thousand Splendid Suns, Matar’s In the Country of Men, and Mengestu’s The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears.

I’m currently reading Desai’s The Inheritance of Loss, which Rochelle highly recommends. She just finished reading Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun and is now fully immersed in Hugo’s Les Miserables. In the past few weeks, I’ve read Ondaatje’s In the Skin of a Lion, The English Patient and Anil’s Ghost, Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, Hearn’s Across the Nightingale Floor, Brilliance of the Moon and Grass for His Pillow, McEwan’s On Chesil Beach, and Hussein’s The Kite Runner. As you can tell, we don’t own a television. I do miss watching the cooking channel, so sometimes I sit on the couch and flip through our cookbooks. Did you know that chocolate is a welcome accompaniment to beef? Possibilities include beef and chocolate ravioli, beef tenderloin covered in a chocolate jus and roast beef with a ginger-chocolate crust.

Rochelle will post a blog on Monday and tell us all about her Botswana adventure. And I will slink back into blogworld anonymity and lurk in the shadows.

The first week of my teaching career.

The first week has come and gone, and, as expected, it's been a week of ups and downs. Mostly ups, thankfully - I'm not ready to kill myself and I'm only very sleep deprived.

As a first year teacher, I was given a difficult schedule naturally; **** rolls downhill, as they say. Actually, it's really not that bad. It's bad in the sense that I need to prepare for three different classes everyday (whereas most teachers only need to prepare for two, having been given one class on two different periods). But thankfully, my students make it all worthwhile (most of the time). My courses are as follows:

first period: grade 12 advanced functions - basically a calculus course that involves some vectors.

second period: grade 10 science (advanced) - currently covering chemistry.

third period: spare

fourth period: grade 11 math (basic) - math class with the weaker kids.

I didn't get a minute of sleep the night before; nervousness, excitement, and anticipation made for one intense night of tossing and turning. What would I say to my students? How would I be perceived?

On day 1, I stood outside of my classroom and greeted each student with a "Good morning." Some nodded politely, some gave back a "Hi, sir.", a few gave me a look then continued walking. And then the bell rang.

Knowing that the anthem was ready to play, I refrained from saying anything, not wanting to be interrupted. There were several seconds of awkward silence where the grade 12's just stared at me, expectantly.

"I'm not being rude by not saying anything, I know know that the anthem is about to play, so I'm waiting it out."

OK, something was said. With tension slightly alleviated, the anthem hit, the announcements went, and then it was showtime.

I knew that my biggest obstacle in teaching would be student behaviour. Thus, knowing that I would spend more than half the time getting kids to keep quiet/put their cell phones away/stop making faces at other students/stay in their seats, I decided to take a proactive approach, and spend a good chunk of day 1 setting the tone, being clear on what was expected (behaviour wise), and talking about mutual respect. I was worried this wouldn't go over well with my grade 12's, seeing as many think that sort of "kindergarten talk" is beneath them. But I went with it anyway. So, with my reputation on the line and my heart in my throat, I started.

"Welcome everyone to advanced functions, 4U (a course code). My name is Mr. XXXXX, and I will be your teacher for the semester. Seeing as this is a university-prep course, I'm guessing that many of you are planning on attending university come next fall, which is great. Now, before we get into the course content, I'd like to talk a bit about how I like to run my classes. Really, I only use one guideline, and this guideline has never once failed me for as long as I've taught (not really a lie, as I have taught a few practicums and TA'd at the university level) - mutual respect."

I then went into a 5-minute schpiel, talking about examples and non-examples of mutual respect. I discussed how they needed to show respect for themselves; by showing up to class on time, coming prepared, attentive listening when someone else - be it teacher or student - is talking, etc. After all that: "OK, I've talked for a good 10 minutes or so. If you have any questions or concerns about my policies or anything else, you can ask. Then we'll discuss the course."

First hand shoots up; a guy. "How old are you sir??"

Five others (in unison): "Yeah!"

After the required guessing game (most of which underestimated), came the next question: "Were you always a teacher?"

"No, I used to do sleep research."

And then the eyes bugged out. "Why do we sleep sir?" "Sir, why do we dream?" "How does Red Bull keep you awake when you don't sleep?" to which I made them a deal; I'd give them a sleep fact at the end some classes if I felt like they had worked hard enough and had done enough - a deal that is still holding up after 5 days of school.

The same deal worked out with my grade 10 science class, who were next. It's well-known that grade 10's are typically the rowdiest in the school - having been there for one year, they know each other, think they know how it all works, and feel like it's early enough in their high school years that they can still slack off. So I made my schpiel longer for them to really drive home the point. As expected, I got a few snickers from kids who looked like slackers and trouble-makers; so far the same people have surprised me.

One kid, who used to sit off in the back corner, is now sitting at the front. He moved there on Thursday and said "Look sir, I'm sitting here because I want to do well in the class!" "Good for you! A solid effort goes a long way."

I spoke a bit about the effort required in this course. "This course is a pretty big step up from grade 9. By nature, science is cumulative. Do you know what that means?" Many blank faces shook their heads. "It means that the new things you learn keep building on the old things you learn. Thus, if you don't study on one part, you'll get lost on the next part. So if anybody here is thinking "OK, I'm gonna slack off September, October, November, and then catch up during Christmas holidays."....NO." On day 1, I also said this to them: "Now, at some point over the next few weeks, I'm going to call home." at which several students had their jaws hit the floor. "Why sir??? I didn't even do anything yet!!!"

"No no, grade 10's cool it. I promise you, on my first call home, I'm going to say something good about you. And it won't be something stupid like 'Bob has nice hair.' It will be something like 'Bob is paying attention in class and participates.'"

"Yo sir, can you call my house first??" "No, call mine!"

I also took a shot at something I was taught during professional development - fostering an environment of appreciation. I thought to myself "OMG, that is so cheesy." but whatever, I tried it. I don't force it upon them, but I simply told them about how hard we work for certain things, and how satisfying a simple "Thank you." can be. And it's working. Days 1-3 people weren't really doing it, but now most offer a sincere "Thank you sir." when I do something as simple as give them a handout (i.e. work to do).

The grade 11 essentials class was also worrisome, with the weaker kids you never know what to expect. I gave the same speech with them, made the same deal (to phone home) with the same responses. By the end of week 1 I had called every single parent in that essentials class, and the students returned the following day much more appreciative and willing to participate. Days 1-3 I had to ask students to put their chairs up, return calculators to the front; nowadays as the period ends, they return their calculators and put up their chairs without prompting. It may sound simple, but it's a huge step forward.

Students still give me trouble, yes; as I said before, it's expected. So far, all I have to do is give a simple "Robert..." "Sorry sir." and then move on from there. When I have to stop in the middle of a lesson to work the overhead or something like that, the chatter starts immediately. But I find that once I start talking, the class goes quiet - which has been great. Out of six school days, I've gone through three without food for the entire day (helping many students during lunch who get lost very easily), and slept an average of five hours per night (often sleeping past midnight planning lessons, waking up at 6am to make it to school to make photocopies and overheads). I also get stopped often; I rarely walk down a hallway without a "Hey Mr. XXXXX!!!" or students waving at me.

So far, it's been worth it.

I blogged about their great viral campaign last year and Triumph have come back again with another clever way to communicate the toughness of their boats. Check out the previous campaign ToughBoats here.

Yesterday I solved the teaser mystery of Man Cans. I found out because my mate showed me the new Solo cans and then it just clicked. This is a great example of social currency. Social Currency is giving the consumer something to be able to talk about, some valuable information.

There is also a raging forum debate going over at Whirlpool where they are trying to crack the mystery as well. This has hints of the communities formed around Alternate Reality Games as well.

On the whole I love this idea of launching the product before the general population makes the official connection with the Man Cans Campaign. They are giving the consumer the chance to solve the teaser before they launch. This is the best example of Australian Transmedia Planning that I have seen. To read more on this planning read what Faris, FOI and Influx have to say about it.

The agency behind this gem is The Furnace, I think they have got a Cannes winner on their hands.

The Furnace is also behind the winner of the 2007 AFA Effectiveness Awards Skins Campaign. However it appears that Skins may be in hot water with a legal suit arising over misleading claims that they don't sponsor elite athletes. Read the full story here.

Here is the winning campaign TVC


And click here to see the new campaign


Here is my previous post on Man Cans

No, this isn’t a plug for a TV show. Rochelle left Friday morning for Botswana, and will return either next Thursday, Friday or Sunday (she likes to keep me guessing). I was supposed to accompany her, but I am more than two weeks behind at work. So, I am here alone for at least a week with only my books and chocolate. Well, not chocolate anymore. By Sunday I had eaten far too much of it, coming to the realization (brought on by dizziness, headaches and an ever-expanding waistline) that I have a problem. I’m addicted to chocolate. I should have clued in years ago when I started putting M&Ms into my breakfast cereal. In a brief moment of lucidity, I gathered up all of the chocolate in the house (including our jars of Nutella and packages of hot chocolate) and wrapped the milky sweet collection into a red canvas bag. After a few minutes of staring at the gigantic red chocolate wrapper, I brought the stash to my neighbours and asked them to hold on to it for the week. Give the bag to Rochelle when she comes home, I said to them. I’ll probably ask for it about Tuesday or Wednesday, but don’t give it to me. They looked at me as though I was crazy, or perhaps dangerous, but they nodded their assent. Then I slinked back to my empty house. A house with no wife, no chocolate.

Life is so much better with Rochelle around. Life is so much saner.

On Friday night I read some Rainer Maria Rilke (Stephen Mitchell translations) and watched a few episodes of Arrested Development on my laptop. I pulled up some carrots and onions from the garden and cooked up a nice stir fry with the addition of green beans and garlic. And then washed it down with a few packages of chocolate. I went to bed early, and read some Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes by candlelight. I’ve stopped reading Plath and Hughes before bedtime, as I often read poems out loud and I think they give Rochelle nightmares. They’re both a bit harsh for her… She does enjoy Rilke, though.

On Saturday morning I went for a 21 K run. I am in the worst shape of the past four years and a bit heavier than normal (see top paragraph for a clue), but I felt stronger the longer I was out running. I plan to run each day this week. I haven’t run much since my last race in June, but it only takes a few days for me to set a new routine.

When I got home I locked myself inside our house and hid in the bedroom. Within seconds children began knocking on our doors, trying to enter. They seem to have radar. Last week we told them that we were tired and needed to sleep, but they went around the back and opened the door anyway. Locking them out is the only way to keep them out. This sounds harsh, but I do need moments of peace and silence. I relaxed in bed and finished reading Ondaatje’s Anil’s Ghost. Before lunchtime I had already eaten a chocolate bar, but justified the action by my run earlier that morning. I also spent two hours writing some fiction, which was a welcome diversion to the Salvation Army propaganda I specialize in (although some may argue that both forms of writing are fiction, the creative stuff I write for no pay always seems more truthful). Then I walked into town and ate a chicken while reading some more Rilke. You can’t buy chicken in the shops, but you can get it at restaurants. Strange. And yes, I ate a whole chicken. I had planned to take half home, but the charge for the brown take-away bag would have increased the bill by 50%. Even stranger. And very filling. But I did walk the 5 K journey home.

Anyway, this play-by-play of my weekend is already boring and long, so I should get off. I’m not much of a blogger, but Rochelle left me four instructions for the week: 1. Miss me; 2. Write fiction; 3. Clean up after yourself; 4. Put up some blogs. So, that’s why I’m blogging. Bear with me.

Now, before you think I’m a big meanie, I did let the kids come and play in our living room in the afternoon. They were noisy and messy, but they had a lot of fun. I played with them a bit, but started reading some of Neruda’s Residence on Earth when the game shifted from crokinole to whipping the wooden game pieces around the room. The book was a useful face shield from incoming missiles. Some of the crokinole game pieces are now missing. And so is Neruda, which saddens me more.

On Sunday I wrote for a few hours and also watched The Way Home, a Korean film released in 2002. The movie tells the story of a deaf and mute grandmother caring for her grandson. For those of you into religion, the movie offers a wonderful illustration of the relationship between God and humanity. For those of you into lifestyle simplicity, the movie will challenge you to examine your wants and needs. For those of you who dabble with self-absorption, you will wonder if people hate you as much as you hate the grandson. For those of you into Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgandy, you may just want to give this film a miss.

By now I’m sure we’re all missing Rochelle. Don’t worry; she will be blogging again soon.

Next blogging topic: Recent Additions to John's Bookshelf. And no, there's no chocolate hidden there. Anymore.

Ever since I had an incredible teacher in high school (Mr. Pierre-Jerome) I've been interested in international politics (and particularly African politics). But I must admit that it feels bizarre sometimes to be living what I used to read. The other day I was in a combi and someone started passing around some political cartoons. Of course, in Canada these are published in the newspaper as normal practice. Here, publishing them could have serious consequences. So, people were crouched over looking at them, and others were acting as look-outs to make sure no one was peering in through the windows or over shoulders. Some people giggled nervously at the satire. I recognized the person with the cartoons from our neighbourhood and know the family to be involved in the CIO (Central Intelligence Organization - government spies). So I thought it was odd that she be passing around cartoons, but then realized it was a trap - trying to source the infidels. Creepy! The whole looking over your shoulder/whispering/being wary of typing these words thing is eerie! I also made a slip-up in devotions yesterday morning. I said a phrase like "in this room we are all leaders" and immediately many heads turned towards our TC. In this country's context there can only be one supreme leader (or a small group). I learn every day...

If you pray, please pray for our friend Ruth. She is not well. We visited her in the hospital yesterday and she is looking very thin and weak. They have not given her any treatment (besides food and water) since she was admitted - I guess because there is no treatment available. It's heart-breaking. I was crying at the hospital - realizing that I used to view hospitals as places of healing. Now it feels like hospitals are places I visit friends before they die. Reality is harsh.... but God is faithful.

Tomorrow I'm heading to Botswana with the ZSYL for their week-long cross-cultural experience. Of course there have been huge challenges with logistics, because it's next-to-impossible to get travel documents (with many excuses ranging from no paper to no ink to...) but half the team managed to get something. We had considered changing the location to Zim, but of course it would be impossible to find food for 20 people for a week. So, perhaps my over-worked husband will write some posts on OUR blog (a rumour is circulating that it's only MY blog!) but if not... you'll hear from me later.

So I have an issue with Skype, I have problems with it crashing all the time and it hardly ever works skype to skype but hey that is free, my complaint is Skype out, that is a paid service.

I sent an email to Skype as below:-

"Every time in the past two weeks that I have used skype in my skype-out paid for service, I have had to hang-up and re-dial as the recipients never every hear me for more than 10 seconds then it cuts out or freezes. I have 8mb line and frankly expect better. I now have red warning saying skype balance low, not surprising as the damn things eats money and provides no service, I spent $.80 trying to get a call connected, cheaper to use the land-line. I expect to see some kind of credit as this is simply not on, $10 spent, probably 2 minutes of talking in total. Disgusting. I have 5500 bloggers on my site and was going to recommend skype as a platform for our chat service, not now."

I then got a standard response, check the firewall etc..

"Thank you for contacting Skype Support.
We are very sorry to hear of your troubles with Skype.
Here are some ways to help you experience enhanced call quality:

1. Check that you are using the most recent version of Skype. You can download it for free:
http://skype.com/download/

2. Follow the simple suggestions here that resolve many call quality issues:
http://www.skype.com/help/guides/callquality/

3. Follow our visual sound setup guide to make sure your audio settings are correct:
http://www.skype.com/help/guides/soundsetup.html

4. Follow our visual firewall user guide to ensure that your firewall or router is not blocking Skype:
http://www.skype.com/help/guides/firewall.html

5. Make sure that all the drivers for your PC are up-to-date (sound, video, motherboard controllers etc). The manufacturer of your hardware will supply you with these.

If you are still not happy with the quality of your calls, then let us know, so that we can help you further."

Hmm..unhappy, make that pissed off, a standard response so I replied, a bit stroppy I admit:-

"Thanks for the standard response.

I am no fool and have used skype for a few years. It is only recently
that the service is shoddy, you guys simply eat up the users money with
no service, everything works on my PC just not every time. It is simply
not consistent. In fact I would say I have to restart 70% of my calls,
that is 70% losses of calls and costs that are obviously incurred.

Of course all sounds are correct, version is up-to-date, firewall
obviously is fine as skype does work for a bit (mind you as this is a
standard reply I am guessing nobody read my mail).

Once again, you fail to provide a service and I am thinking of reporting
the service as it is simply ripping off users."

Sooo..good old Skype came back with another standard mail:-

"So here are some more suggestions to help resolve the issue:

1. In Skype, Go to Tools > Options > Connection. Select the option to use ports 80 and 443. In the "Incoming Connections" box you can chose any port between 1024 and 65535.
2. Reconfirm that your firewall is correctly configured. Follow the simple visual guide here:
http://www.skype.com/help/guides/firewalls/
3. Quit any file sharing applications or high-bandwidth usage applications.
4. For more detailed security setup on a network: http://www.skype.com/security/guide-for-network-admins.pdf
5. If these suggestions do not resolve improve cal quality, follow these steps:
* Quit Skype
* Locate the shared.xml file found in
C:\Documents and settings\Your Windows Username\Application data\Skype\shared.xml
* Delete the file called shared.xml
* Restart Skype ( shared.xml will be recreated )
Note: Showing hidden folders and files has to be turned on: please navigate to My Computer > Tools > Folder Options > View. Once there, please make sure that the option "Show Hidden Files and Folders" is enabled.

5. Disable Quality of Service packet scheduling. Go to Start -> Control Panel -> Network Connections. Right click on the connection you are using. Select Properties. Untick the "QoS Packet Scheduler" option.

If you are still not happy with the quality of your calls, then let us know, so that we can help you further."

Hmm..more standard crap..doesn't once solve the fact it works for the first 10 seconds does it, proving everything is actually set up ok, so, I sent another mail (PS. I did all of the above about a year ago, no customer records obviously so how would they know?):-

"Hmm same response twice, third time and you get me blogging it word for
word. "

Then Skype customer services, Marko L to be precise, replies:-

"Hello Kevin,

Thank you for contacting Skype Support.

Our apologies for pointing this out, but they're not the same.

Actually if you look closely you will note the difference in the steps. But judging by your reply you have not even read them, let alone followed them through on Skype. Unfortunately if you don't do that we can not narrow down the problem. These guides are carefully designed and not just some random suggestions thrown together, even though they may not look much.

Please "reset" the exception for Skype in your Firewall software. The old exception can become useless and this can affect Skype connection quality.


If you are using windows built-in firewall,
Go to Start menu --> Settings --> Control Panel --> Windows firewall
If 'Don't allow exceptions' is ticked, please untick it.
Go to the 'Exceptions' tab
If there is Skype listed below, delete it.
Start Skype, you will be prompted to allow Skype to connect to internet, accept it.

If you are using some other firewall,
Go to Start menu --> Programs and select your firewall
Make sure that exceptions are allowed.
Go to 'Exceptions' tab
If there is Skype listed below, delete it
Start Skype, you will be prompted to allow Skype to connect to the internet, select 'Yes'.

Best regards,

Marko L.
Skype Support"

So. tell me Skype, why do you keep charging me for a service that doesn't work? All of the above is bullshit standard response email that I have had many times, if you had records, you'd be able to see that. I did the above standard email responses last year, your service is simply not up to the same standard as last year, it has deteriorated.

I have now blogged it as I promised. I still am unable to get a telephone conversation without it freezing or crashing yet you keep charging me. I may only have a small blogging community, there may only be 6000 bloggers signed up but I reply personally to every mail, I take every complaint personally, maybe the Skype team ought to too..?

Thanks.

I mentioned earlier that a Salvation Army officer couple recently lost their baby. I found out yesterday that they also lost their first child in the same way - a few days after birth. How sad! They have one child who has survived, but the other two have died when they were only a few days old. I was actually nervous when I heard this because I knew that there would be accusations of witch-craft. And there are. No one ever dies naturally or because of a medical or scientific reason... there is always someone to blame for the curse. The two families are at war, trying to figure out which side of the family is cursing the babies and causing them to die. Usually in cases like this, the couple gets divorced immediately, but there's some hope that since they are Christians, they will stay together. I must admit that this angers me. Think about this mother - how traumatic to have lost her child, to have lost 2 children! and then to have to deal with all of the family fighting and accusations and blame. We all die - we will all face death, and yet we all still fight it, and are shocked to some degree when it comes. And we all want someone to blame - God, ourselves, in-laws... it's so traumatic.

For 2 years in Canada I worked at the Salvation Army's immigrant & refugee services centre and loved it. It was my first "real" job, and it was an excellent one. I was blessed to meet people from all around the world, and many, many friends. One lady I met was Beauty - who came from Zimbabwe. Beauty ended up becoming a soldier of The Salvation Army and now attends the Harbourlight corps in Toronto. Beauty's mother passed away last week, and so she came back to Harare for the burial, and yesterday I visited her. It was a small world - from being together in Toronto to then being together in her mother's small home in Mbare. I also visited with some other friends last night - just to chat about troubles and joys. It was wonderful. It's easy to feel alone and it's easy to develop an "each person for himself" attitude in a drastic environment like this, but having friends just to share life with is a treasure I will never take for granted.

I am unsure if this is real or not but I found it funny!

There is a lot of bad news here. I always find Monday mornings sobering because everyone discusses all of the people who died on the weekend. I was particularly saddened to learn about an officer couple who lost their new baby on Saturday. And then there was the accident of a Salvation Army vehicle where people were rushed to the hospital only to find out that there was no medication (even pain reliever). Also, a new law also just came out saying any employer found to be increasing wages for their workers will be imprisoned immediately. So, I think we might be at $1/month for a while!!!

So, there's a lot of bad news, but because I'm a follower of Jesus, I think I can always see grace amidst the sorrow. I had a beautiful moment yesterday. Our friend Mac turned 70, so we threw a mini birthday party for him. We asked a friend of a friend to bake a cake, and miraculously she found eggs to do so. We brought it over with a card and a candle (another precious commodity) and some singing. He said he'd been waiting all day, because he knew we wouldn't forget. He was so happy. We all had a piece of cake, and then I kept seeing him sneak more bits (especially the icing). Mac is from Scotland, and so we screened the movie Braveheart on my laptop, and he loved it (it IS a great movie - and interesting to watch in this context - thinking of independence and freedom!) Mac has had a tough life, and his only family left is his (wonderful) wife and us - his kids. It was wonderful to see him smile - seeing scenes from his homeland and sneaking bits of cake on his 70th birthday! It requires a brave heart to live in Zimbabwe these days, and I am continually humbled and blessed by the hearts of people here. Please just pray that people won't give up hope.

It was a busy weekend. Friday I spent the day in Karoi - handing over the ARVs to the hospital. It was unfortunate that no one from the community could be there. I asked why they hadn't come, and they said it's because they couldn't afford the transport money. This made me a little nervous seeing as they need to come in to the hospital to actually take their meds, but Zimbabweans always find a way...

Friday night we launched into Commissioning weekend (when 40 cadets were commissioned and ordained as Salvation Army officers/ministers). Friday night was the Silver Star - where all the parents were awarded with Silver Stars. I was touched to see mothers, fathers, aunts, sisters, brothers, etc. going up to receive these Silver Stars. I was imagining that the parents were thinking about when those children were born, and all the hopes and dreams they had for them - and then to see them becoming officers (which accords a huge amount of respect in Zim). I was touched. And, of course, everyone was curious about my own Silver Star, and how I could have a grown up child somewhere when I only look 16! Sunday was the actual ordination and then appointments. The tent was absolutely packed, and it reminded me of my childhood when I used to love watching the cadets march in, and then watching their faces as they found out where they were going to go for their first appointment. Yesterday, most of the cadets were sent to deep, rural areas. Personally I don't feel called to be an officer, but I felt really proud of all of these cadets - and the lifelong commitment and covenant they are making to God and The Salvation Army.

Saturday was awards and prize-giving, and the top students were very proud of their new bicycles. I was actually remarking to John that the top students were all Ndebele (the minority tribe). In Zim, the Salvation Army is VERY Shona (the majority tribe here). For example, the whole commissioning weekend was conducted in Shona, and all of the Ndebele new Captains were sent to Shona corps. We've actually discovered that we know many women who are Ndebele, but we never guessed because they never speak the language, they married Shonas, and they hide their past - like they're ashamed of who they really are. I guess it's the tricky thing in post-colonial Africa. Of course, no one wants to use the colonial language (English) and yet what seems to happen is that everyone ends up just merging into the majority language - and that has psychological and social effects on people who speak minority languages. The General's message was read in both languages, and everyone from Matabeleland was very happy to hear the message in their own language. Life is complicated.