There I sat, next to a student who knew three different African languages, was a master in a boot slapping customary African dance, and spoke with an accent so thick, I had to focus on each word in order to understand him. Although these characteristics starkly contrasted my own American characteristics, we were both able to relate to each another under the same desire to learn about one another’s cultures and the fact that we are all children of a mighty God. On Friday September 28th, I was able to interact with and learn from native South African students while visiting Union Bible Institute (UBI). This day opened the doors for an intercultural exchange to take place, where barriers were broken as I saw similarities between our lives and learned about the divergences within our cultures that make us unique.
One of the highlights of this trip was the chapel service. The students all filed into the room singing-no, belting praises to God. I felt as though I was enveloped in a choir of angels, extremely gifted with powerful voices. No musical instruments accompanied the voices and yet the songs were full of a melodious rhythm that rang throughout the chapel. Perhaps it was because I could not hear my own voice but I saw, in that moment, a glimpse of perfect praise as we all worshiped one glorious God together in Zulu song.
Another highlight of this visit took place when the students gathered together to participate in a Cross the Line activity and share culturally traditional dance moves. The activity truly exposed the reality that we are each more similar than initially thought, united under simple things such as eye wear and biblical studies emphasis, or deeper things such as divorce and suicide. This activity broke down the assumed wall of differences and caused us to relate to one another on a level of understanding, knowing that we were unified in paralleled circumstances. We shared dances, which was absolutely fascinating! African dances have a specific beat and difficult footwork that is jawdropping to watch. I am one that enjoys dancing and I have led some zumba nights for my classmates and so I was pushed to the middle of the circle of students and encouraged to show a dance. There was no music and I awkwardly did a little step, knowing that their dances outshined mine without a doubt!
Not only was I able to discover what united us, I was able to learn about the differences that made us distinct to our culture. When we lined up for lunch, I was in the back of the line with my roommate talking with a male student. He offered for us to move ahead of him but we kindly declined, explaining that we were completely fine to wait at the end of the line. As the line moved forward, more and more male students offered for us to move forward and we continued to assure them that we were content waiting just like the rest of them. Finally, one of the male teachers pulled us aside and said, “Ladies, you do not seem to understand, in our culture the women are to eat before the men.” He then walked us in front of the line of men, even the male students within our American group, which was shocking for them as he took their plates and silverware from their hands and placed it in ours. At first, I felt guilty for jumping up in line but as I reflected upon the instance, I realized that we needed to move in line to show respect for their customs.
I also got the opportunity to learn how to play cricket and handball, which were both quite the experience. First off, I am not an exceptionally talented individual when it comes to sports and when you combine a foreign sport with inability the result is quite hilarious. Cricket was a challenge just to try to hold the bat in a manner that provided a successful hitting style. Although batting was slightly awkward I got the hang of pitching, perhaps because it is mostly about momentum rather than speed or strength. Handball is like a cross between basketball and ultimate frisbee. You pass the ball, only taking one step at a time, throwing to your teammates and the goal is to aim for a basket. This involved high intensity and comical whistle blows as the referee called us on our struggle to abandon the traditional running with the ball.
What began as a sunny day, quickly turned into massive clouds of foggy mist and then torrential downpour, which provided prime conditions for soccer. The location of the institute was on a hill range that captured the clouds and blocked clear vision. The field became so foggy that you could not see the goal on the opposite end of the field. Soon the mist became sprinkles and then a shower. The game ended in a victory for the Americans and we said goodbye, loading into the vans, drenched from head to toe.
May the Lord continue to open your eyes to the fact that we are all children of God, created to worship Him in our own unique ways.
All my love,
Gennavieve
One of the highlights of this trip was the chapel service. The students all filed into the room singing-no, belting praises to God. I felt as though I was enveloped in a choir of angels, extremely gifted with powerful voices. No musical instruments accompanied the voices and yet the songs were full of a melodious rhythm that rang throughout the chapel. Perhaps it was because I could not hear my own voice but I saw, in that moment, a glimpse of perfect praise as we all worshiped one glorious God together in Zulu song.
Another highlight of this visit took place when the students gathered together to participate in a Cross the Line activity and share culturally traditional dance moves. The activity truly exposed the reality that we are each more similar than initially thought, united under simple things such as eye wear and biblical studies emphasis, or deeper things such as divorce and suicide. This activity broke down the assumed wall of differences and caused us to relate to one another on a level of understanding, knowing that we were unified in paralleled circumstances. We shared dances, which was absolutely fascinating! African dances have a specific beat and difficult footwork that is jawdropping to watch. I am one that enjoys dancing and I have led some zumba nights for my classmates and so I was pushed to the middle of the circle of students and encouraged to show a dance. There was no music and I awkwardly did a little step, knowing that their dances outshined mine without a doubt!
Not only was I able to discover what united us, I was able to learn about the differences that made us distinct to our culture. When we lined up for lunch, I was in the back of the line with my roommate talking with a male student. He offered for us to move ahead of him but we kindly declined, explaining that we were completely fine to wait at the end of the line. As the line moved forward, more and more male students offered for us to move forward and we continued to assure them that we were content waiting just like the rest of them. Finally, one of the male teachers pulled us aside and said, “Ladies, you do not seem to understand, in our culture the women are to eat before the men.” He then walked us in front of the line of men, even the male students within our American group, which was shocking for them as he took their plates and silverware from their hands and placed it in ours. At first, I felt guilty for jumping up in line but as I reflected upon the instance, I realized that we needed to move in line to show respect for their customs.
I also got the opportunity to learn how to play cricket and handball, which were both quite the experience. First off, I am not an exceptionally talented individual when it comes to sports and when you combine a foreign sport with inability the result is quite hilarious. Cricket was a challenge just to try to hold the bat in a manner that provided a successful hitting style. Although batting was slightly awkward I got the hang of pitching, perhaps because it is mostly about momentum rather than speed or strength. Handball is like a cross between basketball and ultimate frisbee. You pass the ball, only taking one step at a time, throwing to your teammates and the goal is to aim for a basket. This involved high intensity and comical whistle blows as the referee called us on our struggle to abandon the traditional running with the ball.
What began as a sunny day, quickly turned into massive clouds of foggy mist and then torrential downpour, which provided prime conditions for soccer. The location of the institute was on a hill range that captured the clouds and blocked clear vision. The field became so foggy that you could not see the goal on the opposite end of the field. Soon the mist became sprinkles and then a shower. The game ended in a victory for the Americans and we said goodbye, loading into the vans, drenched from head to toe.
May the Lord continue to open your eyes to the fact that we are all children of God, created to worship Him in our own unique ways.
All my love,
Gennavieve
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