Documenting your life, other's hardships and basic events can make the world feel small and artificial. Going back and forth, should we go back to get the camera? No, we can get along without it, it may even be nice not to have it. People sometimes change when they realize they are being photographed and sometimes ever recorded.
The camera, and even the phones were left in the backpacks back at Pastor's house.
We went exploring to "see who we will see." And see we did. Gogo Constance and a friend, Victoria, and Buchle. Gogo has been working on keeping the street clean and the ditches free of trash for proper drainage. Gogo Constance never stops. We talk and give her and her friend reading glasses, and several tshirt dresses for her to give out. She asks about friends unable to join us this trip, and we briefly catch up. We will visit her again later in the week to properly send a greeting to those far away. We make it to the Duma's, and take part in a local custom of calling into the house while just entering the yard. Buchle appears at the door, alone.
Mphilo was, "Over there, with some friends." Mphilo is two and Ntshongweni has lots of - "over theres," and lots of hills.
 |
| This picture was taken yesterday... |
So we went to find him through the grass, down the hill, and around the bend to the right, past the graves of his mother's younger sister, her mom and her dad. Now is the part where we wish we had our cameras, but sometimes I must admit that I live my life through a lens, through a little eye piece or a screen in between me and the people I am relating to.
So, no documented evidence, but a seared vision in my brain, of a favorite memory from this trip.
Coming around the bend and seeing him far in the distance with three other ladies, one is also a young mother with a two year old and a three month old we find out later. You can see that they are enjoying the UNBELIEVABLE view, taking in the fresh air, each other's company, light music playing from a neighbor's home and letting the two little ones, Mphilo and Emmanuel, play. An absolutely beautiful moment of women visiting one another, supporting and encouraging one another and I am sure, weeping on each other's shoulders occasionally.
We sit down and join in the conversation, the rest, the breeze, the friendship, the sunshine, the children, the smiles and laughter. We laugh when we only understand two words in two paragraphs, "Zulu, Zulu, Zulu, English. Zulu, Zulu, Zulu, English."
Spotting a book, I ask what they have been reading. "It is a Bible." I ask them to tell me what they read this morning. Not sure in English, they call to a lady on the hill that knows English better then they do. Zulu, Zulu, Zulu - Psalms she says.
Which Psalm? Psalm 104 Verse 1 and 2.
The Bible is in Zulu, they read it to us, so beautiful. Asking if they can explain it in English, they laugh. I mention that Buchle CAN do it! She is looking down, totally not feeling it. Then she straightens her back, and says - Yes, I CAN do it!
At this moment the lady on the hill comes down - We know her - Ncgobile's mom!! Amazing! She translates the verses into English and we are so encouraged and uplifted to be able to share in this sacred moment.
Take off your sandals, you are on holy ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment