The Lighter Side of Race

First, some terms:

NP = National Party, the Afrikaans-dominated apartheid government
ANC = African National Congress, the Xhosa-Dominated current government
Quotas = specific percentages of black persons that must be employed at a jobsite or on a team. A sort of Affirmative Action to help black persons previously disadvantaged under Apartheid.

So now I am in the city of Pretoria where I lived as a child. Pretoria is at the centre of one of the biggest name-changing controversies in Sunny South Africa... but let me explain. After the ANC took over leadership in 1994, they decided to be offended (and not without cause) that all the cities, streets and buildings were named after Afrikaaner heroes. Much like we would balk living on Hitler avenue or Stalin street, the ANC decided to change some names. Fair enough, but of course the Afrikaans population doesn't like it much. The argument between "hero" and "opressor" becomes especially heated in Afrikaans-dominated Pretora, named after Pretorious, white hero of the battle of Blood River where the Zulu were routed. People on both sides of the name-changing controversy are bitter and determined, while the rest of us wonder how much bloody money could be saved and poured into schools and hospitals.

The ANC seems to flop between saving money, and spending it stupidly. Therefore when you drive to the airport, you can find 3 different sign-names. The Jan Smuts Airport, named after a white President who ran AGAINST the NP, was deemed offensive and changed, logically, to Johannesburg International Airport. However, this wasn't quite patriotic enough, so it was then rechanged to Oliver Tambo Airport (Tambo was ANC leader before Mandela, I think.) The more prominent road signs now have 2 sheets of tin bolted over top of the name, one covering "Jan Smuts" with "Joburg International" and a second, smaller sheet, covering that with "Oliver Tambo..." The less prominent signs remain unchanged to save money.

For lesser destinations, they barely botherd to change any signs at all... drive to "Polokwane" and you follow mostly signs saying "Pietersburg". In PE, you have 3 names to contend with when following a map: The Original Afrikaans (ie Bothalaan), the English (Botha Street) and the New English (Steve Bilko Street). The map you are following will call ti something like like "Main Road."

Name changing, of course, does nothing in and of itself. Jobs, too, are entitled to affirmative action. Blacks get priority over whites (remember that whites had been given priority since forever.) However, in Africa, nothing gets simple... At the University my great uncle works at, a job opening will always go to a qualified black over an equally qualified white, in order to meet quotas. Fair enough. Not just South African blacks though... a foreign black man, such as a highly educated Nigerian who has come to SA for greater opportunity, counts as "black" in the hiring process, thus having an advantage over South African whites, and less educated South African blacks. (One wonders how that could possibly help black South Africans.) However, once he is hired, he stops counting as "black" towards the quota. And no, I don't know why.

In sports, things get worse. Wrestling is a sport that lends itself to easy picking of a national team- national champion goes. Most countries do it like that. SA, of course, needs to be difficult.. the coaches pick the team. I was privileged to train with, and compete against, the 2 best 84 kg wrestlers in the country, one of which is the African Championship and the other placed 13th in the world. One is a white Afrikaaner, the other a black man from the DRC... since the two of them are fairly equal on the mat, great politics go into picking the national team athlete... depending on who you believe "I'm better but they try to pick him because he's black" or "I'm better but they try to pick him because his coach is on the committee"... finally they realized that there are 2 styles of wrestling in South Africa, and decided to specialize in one each.

For the truly bizarre. we turn to rugby. This story was told to me by my great-uncle, and with Pretoia's exorbitant internet rates I can't afford to check names or details, but I'm fairly sure he didn't make it up...

A white rugby player deems himself good enough to make the Springbok team, but blames animosity with the coach for not getting picked. (Rugby is a sport where quotas are a huge deal... it is the favorite sport of Afrikaaners, who argue that inferior black players are picked over superior white ones, weakening the national squad. Whether this is based on the reasonable conclusion that most black athletes don't care abour Rugby or simple racism I don't know.)

However, some supporters of our white hero did some digging into the athlete's past and unearthed some facts... his father had been a strong (white) opponent of Apartheid, and had allied himself with the black "freedom fighters". As such, our rugby player (through choice or discrimination I don't know) spent his youth playing rugby in the black townships, not with other white athletes. This man, argue his supporters, should be seen not as "white" but as "black" since, despite his skin color, he was "disadvantaged" by the previous white regime. As a black rugby player, he could then make the team under the quota.

Since the press got hold of the story that a white man wanted to be counted "Quota Black" they have had a field day. Digging into the past and financial situation of every athlete on the national squad, they speculate on who should be racially re-classified based on their past experiences. Only in Africa...

Oh, by the way, I am heading to Windhoek on Tuesday, to catch either wildlife, or sharks, or hopefully both.

Finally, congrats to the Ottawa Senators for making the Stanley Cup finals without a single close series. Congrats to Team Canada for winning another World Hockey Championship. And thanks to the lovely Kathryn, now on her way home to Canada, for making our trip together truly amazing.

VACATION TIME

So

Pics:

1) Fooling around at Cape Point

2) With Kathryn on a rock ledge

3) the sunrise from "my" farm

4) Mighty waves at Cape Point

My "work" time in South Africa ended with a bang and a curse. The bang was my head bouncing off the wrestling mat to the cheers of the crowd, and the cursing came from having a 2nd straight trip to prison mysteriously cancelled, without the perpetrator having his friggin' phone on to explain why....

Anyway, I did not medal at the SA greco championships... due to the complex draw system used in SA, I wrestled both the finalists. I was horribly thrashed by the champion (who placed 12th in the world last year) by a score of 0-6,0-8 and literally feared for my life. I was beating the silver medalist 3-1 when he turned and pinned me with 20 seconds left in the 1st period. It was quite frustrating, and I ended up 4th.

So anyway, now I am drowning my frustrations not in the traditional, alcohol-based way, but by sightseeing. Kathryn and I went out onto a ledge at Cape Point where heavy waves smashed into the rocks directly below, spashing us with frothy spray. It was absolutely amazing.

We leave for Hermanus later this week, followed by visits to Knysa, Port Elizabeth, the Addo Elephant Park, Vryheid to see my grandparents, Pretoria and the Kruger National Park. I will try and keep the interested updated.

And Kathryn Lochhead offers her opinion, copy-and-pasted from email, on the first few days on her visit ( she claims "excessive laziness to actually post something original).

So I just about finished my first full week in South Africa and it has been amazing. We have done so much stuff, here is the short list;

-ocean swimming
-flew to jo-burg so jens could wrestle in the south african national greco championships (he was fourth and pissed)
-slept on many planes
-slept in cars
-went to the waterfront
-celebrated jens' 24th bday (Jens note- actually on may 12)
Visit Jens's cousin in Pretoria (who so mercifully and graciously let me use her shower and wonderful comfortable bed)
-hung out with crazy afrikaaners
-walked in Mitchells Plain (google it, which i have been told no other tourist has ever done as it is a really poor gang infested community, trust me i was freaked right out walking the 5 blocks to the 'store' {run down house with bars on it}) (Jens edit.. like 1 minute walk)
-went to the south-western most point on the african continent, cape point, where we saw baboons and elands, and definitely climbed where we should not have next to the raging ocean (i have very cool pictures)
-we saw penguins (jack-ass or 'african' penguins as they have been name changed too)
-climbed part way on table mountain to see Rhodes Memorial and drove up signal hill (saw the whole city of cape town in lights at night)
-tried to go visit Pollsmore Prison (google it), but the massively incompetent guy who runs the program jens volunteers for "shockingly" did not show up, if you would like mad angry near assault like ranting ask him about ___ (Jens edit... removed name but would be happy to rant in person.)

-watched really cool wheel chair basketball in pretoria.
-learnt really racist afrkaans terms and almost strangled little coloured (trust me that is what they are called it is not racist) wrestling boys on a very very long bus ride.

Much more but I only have so much time on this computer. The big thing was the trip to Pietersberg to go watch the wrestling. More cool then watching the wrestling and seeing really really strong men throw each other in the air was seeing actual every day normal afrikaans culture. Trust me you have never seen disorganization and incompetence until you have been to Africa (and this i am told is the most organised organization jens has been affiliated with). Perhaps it was the combination of lack of sleep and being told "we'll make a plan" repeatedly, when clearly no plan is being made at all, but I have now seen the frustration that is Africa (for those of you who have seen blood diamonds "TIA" this is africa). We literally wasted an hour doing nothing before we left to go on a three hour bus ride in the dark. Was anyone doing anything relevant? no. Why? don't ask me. Did we need to go right away? yes!. It is so hard to convey, but trust me you don't know until you have been here.
(Jens Edit: Now she understands... she was quite upset)

But despite the mad mad frustration of the complete inefficiency of everything, this country is soooo beautiful. Today we just got here from cape point, the tip of africa, and it was breathtaking. The ocean was just roaring, crashing and frothing. So we climbed down the rocks to the bottom of it (where we should not have gone, blame jens for all the cool things we do on the trip) and stood right beside where all the waves were breaking on the rocks.

A PILE OF SUCK

Please, person reading this post, take a second to stop reading and offer up the following prayer: "I pray that soon, I will be able to read a post that starts with: car working, school painted, plans made."

Thank you... for now, my car is busted again, and the clutch-piston-thingy that is leaking is hard to find. Hopefully we get one soon, or there will be major suckage. My lack of transport also leaves me unable to get to the school where I am supposed to be running some classroom paintings. Hopefully, my very capable parter can see things through, and my very capable mechanic can get the car part we need.

Otherwise, not a whole lot going on, hence my lack of posting... school was out for 2 weeks, which stopped the school program. I went to a Greco-Roman training camp, went a round against a guy who was 13th in the world and is also my new room-mate, and beat the crap out a big cocky guy from Brackenfell, which single-handedly convinced me that I am finally getting the hang of Greco-Roman wrestling, apart from the clinch, which I loathe.

Oh, and a firecracker blew up in my hand... an idiot friend of mine wanted to toss it off a truck, while we were parked at a gas station where people were busy pumping gas. I grabbed it from him, and thought I put it out... didn't.. bang! suprisingly I wasn't hurt.

I hope to have an actual post, with actual news on it, soon. Things really aren't anywhere near as bad as my title, "pile of suck" just happens to be one of my favorite phrases.

SCHOOL PROJECT

Wrestling results: I wrestled in a small tournament in Robertson, took 2nd. I pinned the SA high school champ in a wild match with a bunch of throws, and I finally caught him on his back in a scramble 6-1. 3-6, 5-1 pin). I lost in the finals to the SA Sr. Champ (0-6, 0-4). I got his legs several times but couldn't finish my shots.

Now to hype my project:

The location: Hanover park, a suburb in the Cape Flats notorious for its gang wars.

The school: Groenvlei high school, and under-staffed, heavily vandalised high school with an 80% rate of student failure. Because of it's location the buildings are under heavy attack, both from vandalising students, and from drug addicts who brave the razor-wiring at night to steal anything they can sell to a scrapyard.

The mission: To improve the school buildings. We are going to involve the "Peer Educator" students taught by the YMCA. Our hope is that, in addition to improving the school, we will instill students with a sense of ownership, so they will feel protective and respectful of the work they have done.

Specific steps:
A (next Tuesday): 25 door knobs have been broken or removed from doors. Along with the peer educators, we are replacing them with new, lockable door handles. All supplies have been bought, thanks to a generous donation by a certain reader of this blog.

B (coming up): We want to paint several of the peeling, grafitti-splattered classrooms. This will be a major undertaking, including moving an entire class at a time. We have most of the supplies ready, though we may need more paint.

C (hopeful plan): We want to re-wire the intercom system. Much of the wiring has been stolen. However, the quote the school got is rediculous, so I hope to find an electricial willing to do it at cost, with ourselves or students doing much of the labor. This one, if it happens, will cost a lot of time and money.

You can help: We can use as much prayer as possible. In fact, all of Hanover park needs a lot of prayer! Financially, we have all we need for now.. however, if we start needing more paint, or if the wiring project goes ahead, I will not be shy in asking for donations on this blog...

Anyway, that's the goal. I'll keep updates posted.

Wrestling Recap

A long discussion of SA wrestling would be frustrating for me to write and boring for you to read, so here's a short summary...

My dream of representing South Africa died a quick and gut-wrenching death. (Pun alert: a gut wrench is a painful wrestling move.) I wrestled okay but not great, and the competiton was tough. National team trials are, I suppose... I placed 7th at 84 kg. My teammate and defending champ won the tournament.

Match 1: lost 0-2, 0-6 to the Jr. Commomwealth champion. A very frustrating match, because no less than 4 points awarded were highly questionable, a combination of differences between South African and Canadian officiating and outright bias.

Match 2: Won 6-1, 5-2. A good match against a tough opponent. I scored 2 massive double leg takedowns and was in control most of the match.

Match 3: lost by pin trailing 4-2. I wrestled well, tried to score in a wierd scramble with seconds left and got caught on my back. Getting pinnned sucks.


On a 20 hour (one way) drive with 14 people crammed into a 12-seat van, I also got to experience true Afrikaaner (white South African of Dutch ancestry) culture. They are a fun people, if you ignore the odd shockingly racist comment. (Some, but by no means all, Afrikaaners still hang onto apartheid-era beliefs.) The Afrikaaners are really the ultimate rednecks. They have big, patriachal families that go to church on Sundays and pray before tournaments. They like meat and beer and sports (especially rugby) and wildlife and fighting. In fact, much of our drive was spent alternately being amused and irritated by the 2 lightweights in the back, who entertained themselves by annoying each other. This repeatedly cumulated in fistfights. These are grown men, mind you...

Anyway, I have big plans for my school project, I may have found a new place to stay, and just got invited to go ocean fishing this Sunday but now I am very hungry and will report on the happy stuff once it all falls into place.

Training

Your lungs are on fire. Everything hurts. Your eyes sting with salt. Your mouth tastes sweat- blood? and your spit is dry. Over the sound of your ragged gasps, you hear the whistle go- damn that whistle- and you step onto the mat once again. You slap hands with your opponent, a quick, friendly facsimile of the handshake you would give in an actual match, and begin to wrestle. Feinting, weaving, clasping arms, slapping heads, trying to find an opening, then the explosion, a sudden vicious blast of energy- a scramble perhaps, wild and spectacular, if the first attack misses, with others turning their heads to watch the action, and one of you is down and the other is on top, squeezing the ribs, struggling to gain back points and, more important, regain your breath...

Wrestling practices have been savage here in South Africa (not that they were easy back home either). South Africans wrestle a very "American" style, constant leg attacks, shot after shot after shot. A methodical (or "stalling" or "lazy") wrestler like myself rarely has time to set up for an attack before the onslaught comes. Lucklily, this provides many openings for counter attacks. You wouldn't believe how vulnerable these guys are do a simple waist lock throw.

At our club we spend most of our time on conditioning, which is quickly beating me into shape, though I wish we would spend more time refining technique- what good is it to be fresh for 10 minutes, if a more techincal opponent can pick you apart in 6? Anyway, I'm enjoying myself when I'm not leaning over wanting to vomit.

The car registration saga is still an expensive gong show, and I will refrain from comenting until it has resolved itself. It struck me yesterday,along with the toys the 4 year old kid was tossing at my head, that maybe I'm meant to learn humility and patience from this stuff. I decided I don't want to learn humility and patience, I want to learn victory and sucess and life-changing miracles... does anyone ever learn valuable lessons through wealth, or winning, things going smoothly? If so, sign me up. And yes, I'm fully aware of the irony of complaining about a car while the people I want to help are wrestling with drug abuse, HIV, shootings and so on.

India Report 6

Given that I leave the mission in 3 days, and I might not be able to blog again for a while, I'm gonna write down a bunch of random stuff that I haven't jammed into a previous entry. Do not expect order, flow or any kind of rational continuation (kind of like an Indian pastor's progress report). There are pics at the bottom.

When people in India want to say "yes" they don't move their head up and down like we do in Canada. Rather, the wobble it from side to side, kind of like those bobblehead dolls some people have on their dashboards. Straight side to side means no (just like in Canada), side so side wobble means yes. It gets confusing. I try to imitate the wobble, but due to my notoriously stiff neck it turns invariable into a Ricky Martin type hip shuffle.

The "hill" I wanted to run up has turned more into a "walk" up, due not to lack of effort, vut due to steepness and heat. The whole thing is a catholic shrine... you start out at the bottom, at a catholic church, zigzag up the path past devout catholics, many of whom are doing ridiculous feats that I can only assume are a form of pennance- crawling over the cobblestones on their knees or carrying heavy sacks on their heads. At the top is a statue of Jesus crucified, and it's quite a religous experience, staggering up to the cross, gasping for breath and totally exhausted. There are moments of comedy too, usually involving the locals. Trying to find a shortcut through the bush, I quickly realized it was going nowhere, I ran back to the path, realized there was a 5 foot drop to the road, jumped off it, landed in a crouch and hit the ground running. But not before seeing the look of sheer horror on the face of a couple of women and children.., may never have seen a white man before, let along a sweat-soaked wild-eyed one jump off a ledge in front of them.

Some interesting cultural differences (so far as I can tell):
Men show affection to each other in public, but not to women. One man in particular shows too much affection, repeatedly, until I finally threatened to beat him up. Really. Ask me for the full story.
Women don't expose thier legs in public. However, they do explose their bellies, in between the "skirt" part of thier sari and their top, a sports-bra-like upper body garment that they also wrap their sari around.
Chubbyness is almost a status symbol. Since the majority of the are either hungry or laborers, and thus skinny.wiry, having a bit of a belly shows that you are not poor.

Man, the kids here lead regimented lives. They are happy (as far as I can tell) but very busy.
They get up very early to do chores, have school from 10-4, come home, do homework for 2 hours, have devotions, eat an enermous supper, and go to bed. They do get some free time in there, but not a whole lot. We've been spending an hour a day playing with the kids. The boys stop being sweet little kids and become competitive athletes very quickly. They fight over the ball (even with teammates), rally around the biggest and strongest, yell and scream and basically make good candidates for "Barbarian camp". Their hand eye coordination is just sick.. one of their games is whipping a tennis back back and forth- hard- and snagging it from the air one handed.

Speaking of sports, I think my retirement from wrestling may end. I found out that I can train in South Africa- perhaps even with the 84 kg African champ, which would end in beating for me I'm sure but might be fun. they have the South African Greco championships while I am over there, so I might go try my luck. I have done ok in Canada in Greco, with 2 national bronze medals, but that's with a small talent pool that's pretty inexperienced in the style. "Umm, arm throw? Hip toss?" As a bonus, Greco seems to require less cardiovascular fitness!

We went to a village of "bull dancers". The men of the tribe dress up a bull in bright color that is better seen than described (see bottom of post), and then make the bull "dance." there are some cool tricks- who knew that a bull could fit a man's neck in his mouth? but mostly the run around with the bull like crazy, getting him close enough that you think he's gonna run you over. The control over the massive animal is impressive. Funniest of all is the village boys, who are supposed so stay away (the bull dancers will smack them if they get within range), but who really want to be bull dancers themselves and play chicken with the big animal while imitating the dance steps.

I always find extremely spiritual places, like foreign missions, a little stressful. A constant focus on God makes think about all the doubts and questions I have. I find it hard to relax when topics like the suffering of children and the eternal destiny of human beings is constantly being discussed. What this says about my own spiritual life, and dedication (or lack thereof) to my faith I'm not sure.

I don't think I've ever met people who pray as much as the pastors do here. I've written up all their progress reports, and standard is several prayer nights a week, plus a long church service on Sunday, plus several days of fasting and prayer, and all night prayer vigils, every month. then there's family and personal praying time. I can't decide if this is amazing or excessive. However, you can't argue with results, I guess... Churches and new christians are springing up everywhere like wildfire, and this among the Hindu people, which are notoriously difficult to convert.

These pastors may wear their big bellies proudly, but they are not soft. They live in what we would consider huts. One of the big goals of our mission is to build them parsonages, houses with electricity and toilets, and most importanty, good roofs. That way, rain and snakes dont' get it. Cobras are actually a common problem. I was in one hut where feral cats came in through the roof, which means a) loads of room to get in and b) lots or mice around for the snakes to eat. One pastor actually lost a kid when a friggin' snake crawed into his hut and it. Sucks.

I would also be remiss if I didn't ask for money... I hate doing it, but the money is sorely needed, and Ive seen enough to convince me that it will be well spent. Total cost to:
build a pasonage or church-$5000
buy a 75 kg bag of rice to feel childen- $25
Sponsor a child or pastor- $25-30 per month

Email me if you are interested, please. I will gladly provide more details, but I feel uncomforable providing personal info for others over a blog anyone can read. We are currently making DVD's to "advertise" the mission, I will gladly share some when I get back home. Making these DVD's is a rediculous amount of work, since the software is posessed by anti-productivity demons.

Finally, we are in the process of booking enterance to Ranthambore national park, supposedly THE place to see tigers in the wild. Tigers! My one stipulation when going to India was "I want a chance to see a tiger in the wild." My mom and sister could plan everything else (which they did quite excellently, I might add) but I wanted that shot at seeing a tiger. Now it looks as if I may get it.

Pics:
1) A bull eats someone's head
2) awww... children with puppies! Who can resist the double cuteness?
3) Some local villagers

Christian Practice Room part 2

I'm going to stretch my wrestling analogy to tortured lengths, so bear with me. Please note that:
a) I am a Christian writing for other Christians. Christians who believe doing the will of God is important.
b) I'm not making the distinction between "our doing good things" and "God working through us" in this post. I'm not always sure what the difference is, and it's tiresome to write down both. When I talk about a Christian doing God-pleasing things, assume that they are doing it through the guidance and power of God.
c) Finally, I am struggling with the stuff I am writing, trying to work through it. My words are not pure truth, they are one man's perspective. Please remember that.

If the Christian life is a race, a struggle, a war (all Biblical metaphors) than too many of us are sitting on the sidelines. In a world that is filled with starvation, gluttony, lust, violence, hatred and has the capacity to turn itself into a smoking crater, we need a force for good. The Bible presents us with one- the Church. The followers of Christ. Following the greatest Good, with the back up of the greatest Power, and a handy instruction manual (yes, the Bible, don't you hate that cliche?) we are those equipped to deal with the evil (yes, evil, there is no other fitting word) that encompasses our world. However, the popular perception of Christians among non Christians seems to be one of two: either in propoganda-spewing, thoroughly hypocitical Republicans or naive, pathetic shut-ins that don't seem to do anything except sing and pray. This is not good.

I have a lot of bitterness toward the Religious Right, but this post is not about them. It seems to me, though, that a lot of us gravitate towards the second stereotype. Filled with the (worthy and noble) desire to BE good, we barely have the time and energy to DO good.

In wrestling, we have guys- either old retired guys or young beginners, usually- which are willing to practice, to train, to improve, but not to compete. They are- especially the old guys- often quite good, but are unable or unwilling to demonstrate how good.

Too often, we are practice room Christians, spending all the time training ourselves with our Bible-intepreting skills, our worship singing techniques, our lust-controlling marathons, and we forget to step onto the "big mat". Our Biblical knowledge of the verses commanding us to love, help and take care of our neighbour may be tremendous (mine is not, hence the lack of actual verses), but if we don't practice our skills what good are we doing?

World and Olympic champ Dan Gable was famous for his practice room skills as a coach after he retired from competition, thrashing Olympic medallists regularly in practice. He beat a young russian by 20 points in an exhibition match, who then went on to win several gold medals. Being "better" only matters if you can prove it in competiton- Dan will never get the Russian's medals. . Being "better" people, in my mind, is much more significant if we prove it with our actions. You no longer feel lust watching shampoo commercials? Great. Now use that self-control to do the world some good.

"Wait, wait, wait Jens.. Are you suggesting that becoming moral and knowledgeble people is unimportant?"

Hell no. It is of vital importance. Without "training" to BE good, how can we expect to DO good? The havoc wrought by unethical Christians- or Christians subceptible to temptation- is mind boggling.

I remember wrestling a multiple (Juvie and Jr) national medallist a couple years ago... he killed me first round, and then he gassed.. hard. with every ragged gasp from his mouth, I realized that I still had more energy then he. I ran him out of bounds repeatedly with minimal resistance (1 pt each) and eventually won in overtime, lifting him high into the air before slamming him down. (1-7, 3-0, 1-0 OT). He hadn't put in the time to train.

Afterwards, after he had put in his cardio training, I wrestled him four more times. The closest bout was 2-0, 4-0 for him. (not good memory). This is what training does for you. It is vital. Alexander Karelin, the consensus greatest wrestler ever (13 straight World/Olympic wins with no losses in that time) accredited his sucess to training "harder every day of my life then [his opponents] ever trained in theirs". Alexander applied his training billiantly. Do we?

Personal morality is just as important. Improving ourselves (with the help of God, of course) is a vital and never-ending quest. But it is NOT an ultimate goal. To quote John Eldrege: "Morality? Morality is never the point." It is a means to an end, just like the weight a wrestler can lift is a means to an end- more strength to crush his opponent. The end- our end- as Christians is a better world. A more Christlike world. A world with more faith and less hatred, more love and less violence, more joy and less sadness.

We are often so focussed on being good, and exactly what that entails, that we fight amongst each other instead of against a common enemy. How much Christian thought and literature is devoted to the evils of- and cures to- video games, rock music, mastrubation, drinking, dating, and dancing? (None of these, by the way, is expressly forbidden Biblically.) We can be just as nasty on matters of theology... just mention "evolution" in some churches! What possible good does fighting amongst ourselves do?

The Christian who drops the F-bomb upon hitting his thumb might concievable have a negative impact on someone who hears him. However, given the choice, give me the crude vulgarity of Martin Luther (and occasionally the apostle Paul, who told men to go castrate themselves) to change this world for the better any day! While we pay much attention to the small, visible evils of our neighbours, how much do we focus on the evils condemming our fellow Christians?
Tearing each other apart over legalistic issues? Showing judgement instead of love? Anger instead of grace? And no, I am not advocating a tolerate-everything, wishy- washy Christianity. Just a focus on loving God and our neighbour, solving problems instead of causing more. Who cares if the world is 6000 or 6,000,000,000 years old? What matters is that it's a mess and we can help fix it.

As part of my undergoing wrestling withdrawals, I recently spent time watching some of the all-time greats on youtube. (http://www.youtube.com/profile_videos?user=the1qs has some good ones). As interesting as their similarities (domination on the world stage) were the differences. Each one had outstanding technique, but completely different styles. As differently as these men wrestle, everyone agrees that they are master technicians. We can see the results of their amazing technique... Gold Medals.

Perhaps, as Christians, we too should realize our differences. Realize that even what constitutes "right" might differ from person to person. (It is perfectly moral for some people to have a beer, but not for an alchoholic). Perhaps, we should be striving for results, for the proverbial Olympic Gold. "By their fruits you shall know them", Jesus says of his followers. Solve world hunger. End war. Dismantle Nuclear Weapons. Evangelize the world. Revive a spiritually bankrupt West. (Not individually, of course, but each Christian can have an effect. Together, that adds up to a lot). The world needs this, more than it needs people who refuse to listen to an Eminem cd. The Christians should be the ones demanding intervention in Darfur. Running homeless shelters. Sponsoring children. Navigating the elusive balance between waging a war on terror and striving for peace between societies. The world needs us. These are the "big matches". This is the testing ground, the true measure (I think) of our dedication to a Christ-like life. What are we willing to do, to sacrifice, for others?

("Wait a second. Jens... lots of Christians ARE doing that!" I realize that. That's exactly what we need more of. In my humble opinion, those Christians "get it".)

The quest for personal holiness (perfection?) is a noble one, though (to me) it doesn't seem like much fun. I probably underestimate its importance. However, I am deeply convinced that it is no substitute for an outward-reaching faith, a faith that truly seeks to love our neighbour as ourselves. I do note that many of the Great Heroes of our faith were deeply, horribly flawed. Yet they did great things. Why can't we?

P.S. 1
[I relalize this post is long on idealism and short on actual suggestions. Hopefully my trips to Africa and India, which will be spent largely trying to help the poor, will give me suggestions. Also, I wrote down some ideas in an earlier post: http://filth-man.blogspot.com/2006/09/help-poor-so-i-was-given-priviledge-of.html)

P.S. 2
[
A partial list of flawed heroes from Hebrews 11: Noah the drunkard, Abraham the coward who twice offered to give his wife to a foreign king to protect his own butt, Jacob the lifelong cheat and swindler (who also wrestled with God, how cool is that?), Moses the murderer, Rahab the hooker (who did not, as far as we know, quit her job), Samson who scorned God, slept around and killed people recreationally, David who waged some pretty brutal wars and famously stole his own soldier's wife... the list goes on and on. All these were "approved because of their faith", and all of them did great things, so great that God himself applauds them.
]

The Christian Practice Room part 1

So, I finally figured out what I am doing in South Africa....

I am going to be volunteering with the cape flats YMCA. Here's the link: http://www.ymca.jez85.net/. I will be splitting my time (most likely) between the school and the prison programs, thus combining my love of incarceration with the prestige of my Bachelor's of Education. The YMCA teaches many life-skills type stuff, helping the youth from the rough areas of Cape Town to survive and thrive (gee, that rhymes). The "Cape Flats" are the slums of Cape Town and are often considered the crime capital of the world.

Sociohistorical Note: (don't you love big words)
[ The main group of people there are called the "Coloured" people. No, not as in "I'm trying talk about black people while being PC".. they would take offense at being called "black". The Colored people are their own racial and social group. Back in the day, before Apardheid, white men (mostly men, since the first white people in South Africa were soldiers, hunters and explorers) married black women and had, shockingly enough, brown children. When the government of South Africa forbade interacial marriages (which is no longer the case) the "Coloureds" found themselves ostracized by both whites and blacks. Now they are their own group. If that sounds wierd, well, that's South Africa. Legalized racism is out (since the 1994 free elections, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_African_general_election,_1994), but people still think of themselves in racial- and tribal- terms.

Looking at the website it looks positively safe and easygoing compared to the 3 weeks of prison ministry I did last time I was in South Africa. "Stay in this room please, there's a big brawl in the other one, we're bringing in the dogs..." I wrote extensive letters about my experiences, if someone's interested I can post them sometime (i.e. leave a comment saying "I am interested). The most exciting part to me is that i get to live with a host family, and thus experience all the culture (and culture-shock, no doubt) firsthand.

Apart from a 3 month(ish) stay at the YMCA, I also hope to (in roughly chronological order): hang out with my South African sister, catch ginormous fish with rods and spears, visit the Andrew Murray Center and JAMM ministries (with whom I volunteered last time), go up the Garden Route, do some "extreme" touristy things (shark diving, skydiving, stuff like that), go to Namibia, visit the Etosha Pan, and I really hope to do some game capture with my uncle again. (Perhaps I'll also post my recollections from giraffe catching- I think every person who has ever met me has heard that story, but you know the drill, if you care post "I'm interested".)

So That's Africa, there will be details aplenty I'm sure. The rest part of this post is my attempt to write something intellectual and thought-provoking, as opposed to simple this-is-what-I-did-then... but it's only a teaser, the first part of what will surely be mind-blowing truth to the highest degree. Part 2 will be the stuff that's thought-provoking, so if I chicken out I can just write "the moral of the story is that Albertan Wrestlers are better than those in British Columbia." (BTW posting that on a Canadian Wrestling forum is about as controvertial as posting "George Bush is my Hero.")


THE CHRISTIAN PRACTICE ROOM: PART ONE

I remember a conversation a few years back I had with my wrestling coach. I was not on the roster of athletes selected (there were 10, I think) to compete at a big tournament in British Columia and I was upset about it. I went up to my coach's office to see him and asked what I needed to do to prove myself. I mentioned my increased sucess- in practice and aprevious tournament. He agreed with me, pointed out some things I still needed to work on, and told me "we have a lot of athletes ready to go to this tournament. Whether I find a spot for you or not, I want you to know you have proven yourself, it's simply a matter of space now. " Later that day I found out I was going to Vancouver.

In my first match, I met that year's 72 kg Canada West Champion, who was wrestling up a weight. It was a scrappy, low-scoring match, all sweat and scraped forheads and dangerous tie-ups. I remember a scramble to the out-of bounds that turned into a throw for me, fighting off a gut wrench in the last moments of the 2nd period, ribs feeling as if they might crack but determined not to go over, and finally being awarded a caution point because my oppoenent was stalling. That proved the winning point. (memory test.. score was.. 0-2, 2-1, 1-1 with tiebreaker going to me).

My feel good-story didn't quite have a hapy ending, as I lost a 3-round match in the semi-finals (1-3, 5-0, 1-4 something like that) and finished 5th, but that win was huge for me. I don't remember being kept out of any tournament I wanted to attend after that. And a rather long-winded trip down memory lane to get to my point...

WHICH WILL BE IN PART 2! BE PREPARED TO BLOW YOUR MIND!

Random Thoughts

In honor of "Random Camp" at Crowsnest Lake Bible Camp, where I was recently a counsellor, here are some random thoughts...

Man, this blogging stuff is hard. I don't want to be one of those guys who writes down every mundane detail of their lives and exepects others people to care, but nor do I want to be one of those people who have blogs on the internet that never get updated and basically just sit there collecting technological dust.

It is now time to start wrestling season again, and for the first time in forever I will not. It feels wierd to be retired. It feels strange to be in miserable shape. I got to do learn some submission grappling at camp (I ran a "battle option" with a ju-jitsu guy) and man, I want to get back into it, or maybe give ju-jitsu a try... All the times I sat in the sauna, lips dry and bleeding and still not on weight, all those times I got off the mat, head hanging low in defeat, when I eplained for the thousandth time that my black eye was caused by a head butt and no, it's not allowed and yes, people do it anyway. when I ran my millionth set of stairs, I dreamed of this moment. Now it kinda feels wierd... While I didn't quite go out on top (in fact I went out throwing to my own back), I did medal in my last tournament- the Greco National Championships.. and that'll have to be enough for now. New rules Greco, by the way, is equal parts exhilerating and pure terror. "Here, grab me around the waist and pick me up while I stand there"...
















When I go to South Africa, I'm going to catch a huge fish. A shark or a swordfish or a tuna. I've had it with all these people coming up to me and telling me how they caught a 30 lb salmon or a 100 lb halibut and whatnot, makes it hard to feel proud of the stupid lake fish I catch (except the 10 lb pike I caught with my hand, I will boast of that one forever) so it's deep-sea fishing time. By the way, all you people out there with a huge fish in one hand and a scale in the other, I caught giraffes once... wonder what that weighs:)
















Barbarian Camp pictures are now on the internet. Here's the link... http://www.crowcamp.ca/gallery/photo_thumbs.asp?catID=9&subID=80


If you're into wrestling, here's a link to watch a ton of cool matches on the internet. If you look through them, there's some Olympic champs and stuff going at it.
http://www.crowcamp.ca/gallery/photo_thumbs.asp?catID=9&subID=80


Finally, I'm very self-concsious of the fact that anything I write down can be read by the entire internet, including my mom, so yes deeper, more substantial thoughts do go on in my head but I am still figuring out how to write down personal and controvertial stuff without getting myself into trouble.

And apparently, in Australia, the word "filthy" means "filled with hot girls!" Take it as you will.