Tourists come to J-bay to live the high life of good surf and cheap drugs. So many of the local people have such a skewed impression of white people and Americans because they come here to take their luxury vacations, flaunt their money and leave. Meanwhile, there is a whole culture that has fallen through the cracks of recognition and live under the heels of the ignorant and uncaring. Tonight I climbed into this hole and broke bread with the street kids of Jeffreys Bay.
It was dark, cold and the sky was clear as we pulled into a vacant parking lot and got out of the van. It was obviously by divine appointment that we arrived at this time and place because we hadn’t even crossed the carpark when a drunk, wounded Afrikaans man crawled across the street slowly in our direction. My brother Zack spent a good twenty minutes trying to communicate and help this non-english speaking man while Sai and I stood protectively and cautiously nearby.
This man smelled rank of alcohol, urine and street filth, while his sweat pants held clear stains of the source of the urine smell... The information we could get out of him was that he had be beaten up by a bunch of kids --- he pointed in the direction they had gone, so we went off to try and find them because our outreach contact said he had relationship with them.
And so I meet Jonathan, Chris, james, Leon and Colat. These boys are legit street kids ranging. from age 13-16. They are orphans, thieves, barefoot and sleep on the concrete, yet they are awesome kids. It turns out that the previous man had stolen blankets from the boys-- their only source of warmth on the FREEZING nights-- and so the boys had went to get them back when the man pulled out a knife and grabbed one of them. So defending themselves, they knocked the man out and took their blankets back.
We bought the boys a loaf of bread and bologna, sat down on the curb and talked with them for a long while.
I don’t know if this awakened a part of my heart, or broke it, but something in me stirred....
As we were talking to the boys, and they were challenging us to a break dancing duel (which we adamantly refused) God challenged my faith and sincerity. I kept wanting to give up the jacket on my back, but my mind kept making lame excuses: “It’d be awkward or offensive” or “I only have one other hoodie, and it’s freezing and it will always be wet...” etc. Basically what I’m trying to say is that I needed to get over myself!
As we were leaving, I shrugged off my jumper and gave it to the smaller of the boys who was wearing just a t-shirt, shorts and one shoe. He gave me a huge smile and very sincere “thank you”, as as I walked away, he put it on, donned the hood and started dancing and swinging around the street poles.
Driving home thirty minutes later, I saw him dragging a piece of cardboard behind a building where he would curl up and shiver the night through in a large, blue hoodie.
Oh dear, mankind has got a long way to go.
If I, a missionary in training who will “dibs” the most unappealing job and lay down my rights to sleep, food, rest and privacy for 6 months in an attempt to be others-centered, can’t even recognize the cry of fellow flesh and blood because my ears are so accustomed to hearing “me me me me!”----Hmm... I think we all need to wake up. I am beginning to see things, but I think it will take much longer for me to start to understand the many "whys" and tendencies of my own heart.
We ended the night by stopping at a secluded beach and going star tripping. Star tripping is where one person looks at the stars and spins around in circles very quickly, and then another person shines a flash light at them and yells, “run to the light!” The spinner locks their eyes on the light of the torch and tries to run towards it. Of course they fall and sway like crazy, and rarely make it to the light- it’s funny as heck to watch. I laughed so hard watching my friends do this, and didn’t laugh as hard when my turn ran me knee deep into the icy waters of the ocean. Isn't it funny that the little things can make you feel the most alive?!
Love it.
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I am so thankful you share these things. I know that if we back home take time to listen, we can be changed by your words. I realized while reading this that part of me wants to write off your experience as an exception to the rule: "These things are only happening to Steph because she's on an mission," goes the voice inside. What I heard from God in response to this thought is that where He is, this is most certainly the rule, rather than the exception. The call to help, to clean, to pour into others--we would be ridiculous to believe that this call is confined you or to the African continent and doesn't apply to us. All that to say that your stories are (or, really, your life is) convicting, and I'm not going to take the easy route and ignore what God is saying through you. ;)
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