Chocolate Fudge Brownies, Mozza Rolls and Jason Gillespie

Hello! Sorry it's been a while again, internet isn't quite so available these days. It's exactly midday on Monday 20th July as I type but I'm writing on a friend's laptop and not entirely sure when I'll be able to put it up. Soon hopefully.

Something I didn't have time to mention in my last blog – the night of Sunday 4th July. So we were staying in a boarding school, we were the only ones there so I'm sure you can imagine at nights it can get pretty scary (for some, obvs I was fine); long dark corridors, windows rattling etc. Well this one particular night we were all having problems sleeping, and then, close to midnight (we are all normally in bed by half ten) the payphone, right at the end of the dark corridor, started to ring. We left it the first time but by the third time we couldn't ignore it any longer and so Sandrine and I ventured down to see what on earth was going on. We picked up the phone only to find a dead tone – no one was there. Weird. That didn't stop the phone from ringing though – it rang several times more and each time we picked up, no one was there. By this time Sandrine was thoroughly freaked out and so a prayer meeting was called in the early hours of the morning. We walked up and down those corridors and around the school just praying for peace and against this spirit of Satan that was causing the phone to ring anonymously. Eventually – I think it was gone 1 – we decided we had prayed long enough, the phone had stopped ringing and the girls were generally feeling a little better. We headed to bed. Two days later I gave Beej a ring. “Mate, why didn't you ring me back the other night. I rang so many times!” were some of the first words he said. AH, GOSH. I couldn't believe it – so it was Beej who'd been the spirit of evil that we'd spent so long rebuking! Top stuff Benjamin.

So. We spent all of last week in Outdstroom; biggest town in South Africa apparently but still most definitely smaller than Bath. It's redic though – apparently there's over 300 churches! Crazy. How many churches are in Bath do you reckon? Can't be much more than a hundred surely? I couldn't believe it when the Pastor told us. Although he also said he could count the good ones on his fingers – that's the big problem; there's loads of churches not 'cause there's loads of Christians but because there's a few Christians all going their own way and disagreeing with each other. And there's a huge amount of religion in this place – everyone belongs to some church or other but for many of them it's about the one service a week and not about relationship with God. Speaking of the Pastor though, this guy was a serious lad. We arrived at his house last Sunday and still two hours after meeting him I was still wondering where on earth the Pastor was – I didn't think that the young banterful guy that we'd been introduced to was actually the Pastor who was due to host us! Turns out he wasn't that young – 38 – but he was still very youthful. When we first met him we were all sitting down in the living room and he came in and said with all seriousness, “Shall we pray” and none of us even questioned it but then he burst out laughing and said, “only joking” as if it was a rediculous idea that we should pray! Ha, I think you had to be there but still – I took an instant liking to this guy. Reminds me of that time I was in the Junior School, we were having assembly and Mr Stafford was talking about the arrangements for Sport's Day. He rounded it up by saying in an off-hand kind of way, “Now all we need to do is pray for good weather...” at which point the whole auditorium bowed forwards, as one used to do when saying prayers at the Junior School. He didn't mean it literally poor guy! Unfortunately I think you had to be there to really appreciate that one too – hopefully some of you were but if not my most profuse apologies!

Outdstroom as a town is okay, take it or leave it, but I did really fall in love with the township in which we were actually staying and in fact spent most of our time. Everyone was just so friendly (I think it's potentially 'cause I'm white but still) – I often enjoyed just taking a stroll along the streets, meeting kids playing their games and smiling at the mums as they looked on from their homes. I took a liking to one particular group of kids that I met on one of our door-to-door sessions. I started talking to a couple of young guys and soon we were joined by about ten of them, all interested in what we were doing. It soon materialised that by far their favourite past-time (maybe bar football) was dancing and they were all keen to show me their Michael Jackson moves! It's almost unbelieveable – ask any kid out here to dance and they will immediately imitate MJ, normally quite well too. How do they even know what they're doing though – these kids all live in tiny houses, no internet and often without a TV, how on earth have they even ever heard of Michael Jackson, let alone know exactly how he used to dance?! Baffling. It was soon my turn to show them some moves from the Northern Hemisphere though and, lacking any other inspiration, I plumped for the Macarina – always a safe bet! This was anything but safe though, the kids were all over it – carnage - they just couldn't get enough and didn't seem to even consider that us old folk just don't have the energy to keep going forever! Even as we were dancing more kids came up and joined us and people smiled as they walked past – must've been quite a sight, just dancing on the street in what was a previously relatively peaceful little street. Those kids were great though – those ten soon became my favourites and if I had time off in the afternoon I would slip out of the house by myself (standard rule is that you're supposed to roam in pairs) and head down-town to meet up with them. There'd always be at least one just chilling on the street and as soon as we met up the rest would not be long in coming, all pleading for more of my dance moves! On Friday we ran a children's meeting and all of my new-found friends were only too-keen to come! It was brilliant – we had about forty kids there, twice the amount we were expecting so we had to cancel one of the games we'd planned for the smaller group! We did one of our “funny” dramas which the kids all loved and then I just explained it and gave a short, simple message. Really good meeting. The next day I went back to the kids to say goodbye (They didn't seem to grasp the whole concept fully – “when will you be coming back?!”) and we were just chatting when one of them said something about our drama yesterday and before I knew what was happening they were all fighting over what part they wanted to play. There we were, on the street, spontaneously acting out the drama we'd done the previous day, me playing my part and all of the kids filling in the other roles! Was such a priceless moment – just wish I could have it on camera. I think you get the picture though – these kids were cool. Enough said.

So, I was on one of my strolls around the community, and I must have looked slightly confused because one lady called out, “Are you lost?” We got talking and when she found out I was from England a smile passed over her face and she exclaimed, “Ooo, I know someone who's in Germany!” Ha, what do you say to that?! “How wonderful, same continent!” It was cute though. I carried on walking but it wasn't long before a group of people, adults and teens, shouted from outside their house, “Oi MJ!”, “Yeah Michael Jackson, how's it?” Not entirely sure but I think it was 'cause of my slightly MJ-resembembling hat. I smiled and carried on walking but then decided to stop, hold the rim of my hat, tilt it down and thrust my waist a couple of times, like all the kids round here like to do! Got the best reaction ever - “Wooooo, we like the way you move!” I smiled again then turned and carried on walking. For a split second I actually thought I was just a little bit cool. Didn't last long though! Love that about this place – I could never get away with doing anything like that back home! Simple pleasures. Something else that you just never get back home – spontanes worship times. They're the best – we were just all chilling in the living room the other day and before I knew it someone had grabbed the guitar and people were dancing and singing and just altogether making one joyous noise. Sweet times.

I was walking (again!) the other day but I hadn't gone very far before I rounded a corner to be greeted by five girls, two of which shouted “Matttt!” and ran up to me for a hug! 'Awww' I thought, it taking me a couple of moments to realise that I actually did recognise these kids – think I'd chatted to them the other day. It's so lovely how kids express emotions so freely though – felt way more appreciated by all of them than I ever do by the rest of my team, which may be because that is in fact the case, or it may just be because us adults don't like to show our emotions quite so readily. Not really cool is it.

Friday evening was insanely cool though – we had a youth meeting which a whole host of people came to and during the response time at the end about ten people seemed to genuinely give their life to the Lord, or at least make a recommitment. Was so exciting – the atmosphere was incredible and we were all just singing and dancing. I've always internally-rubbished it when people say the biggest miracle they've ever seen is someone give their life to the Lord – I've always taken it to mean that they've never actually seen a “proper” miracle but now I know what they mean – it's genuinely awesome. Like with the lady who was healed a couple of weeks back, the healing was exciting but her recommiting her life to God as a result was even better in a way! At the end of this meeting we were all taking loads of photos and this girl who I'd said hello to earlier came and put her arm round me, intending for Sam to take a photo of us but he, quite oblivious to us, was looking through his photos. She refused to let go however, so were just standing there like lemons, arms round each other, waiting for someone to notice and take a photo of us so I could escape! Awkward turtle.

So last week we got back to the house we're staying at one evening and I was just chilling in the living room when the lady of the house came in , clearly a little frustrated and said in a stern voice, “Matthew, pick up that toy!” Now I was slightly taken aback considering I hadn't long been introduced to this lady (I was surprised that she even remembered my name!) and yet here she was bossing me around the house! I assumed it must be a cultural thing and sheepishly bent town to pick up the toy in question before realising that just behind my left shoulder sat her 10 year old boy who also goes by the name Matthew! Ahhh. All made sense!

Sunday saw us take a 8 hour minibus ride across the South African outback. The roads were amazing – completely straight for as far as the eye could see with barren waste-land either side, never seen anything like it. Huge expanses of land that don't seem to have been trodden on for decades. Was cool though, felt like we were on some mass road-trip. Which I guess we kinda are.

Okay. Timecheck? 7:11pm Wednesday 21st December. Just going to keep writing this one til I find internet. We're in Kimberely now for two weeks – a city (famous for diamond mining apparently!) in northern South Africa. This place has impressively large shopping centres – allowed me to go bible shopping the other day. Found the nicest bible ever, leather bound and all, 40 pounds down to 15. Bargain! Took it to the till and they only charged me 9 for it! Isn't that just the best feeling ever? Thought as much.

I know what you're thinking... 'Don't you have anything more interesting to talk about than bible-shopping?' Aha, glad you asked, in fact I do! The place we're staying in this week is self-catering, giving us all a chance to demonstrate our wonderful culinary abilities. Jess and I were in charge of preparing supper yesterday – macaroni cheese. Simple enough. Or so you'd think but somehow we both managed to screw things up big-time. I don't know what it is with me and kitchens but I seem to jynx every one that I step foot into. I just seem incapable of making a good meal. It's all a learning curve though, isn't it?! I think our most costly error involved the addition of the cornflour to the sauce. I'm told cornflour is used to thicken and so I kept adding until the sauce got thick. Fair enough, right? Next thing I knew I was scraping the bottom of the box and the sauce still wasn't thick! And then we didn't even think to taste the sauce before pouring it all over the macaroni. Error. Big error. We didn't give up on it though – we laid on hands and said a quick prayer before going to put it in the oven only to find the oven wasn't in fully functioning order. Not functioning at all in fact. We thought it could be a blessing in disguise though – we'd have to cancel supper, blame it on the oven and no one would ever know that the food was actually inedible anyway! It was the perfect plan until Raymond (now our leader) told us to just whack it all in a pan and put it on the hob instead. Nooo. We did what he said but after rinsing it through with milk and then water and still having it taste like pure gloopy cornflour, we decided to call it a day, raising our hands in defeat. Everyone was like “Don't worry guys, you tried your best...” which really only made things worse – felt bad tipping a whole tray's worth (and this is no ordinarily-sized tray!) in the bin. Oh well, we ordered pizza in the end which quite frankly tasted better than any macaroni ever could. All's well that ends well.

Today we went to two high schools – our first visit to schools since they've only just gone back after the holidays so none of us really knew what to expect. Reminded me quite a bit of Monkton actually – these were posh school with team-photos lining the corridors and green blazers being sported by all. Their cricket pitch – which consisted of a few tufts of straw-like grass – couldn't really compare to Longmead though. I was due to share a message at the first school's assembly (you have no idea how much I was wetting myself at the prospect of talking for 15 minutes to about 600 boys and girls not much younger than me. I actually felt physically sick beforehand and wasn't entirely sure whether it was just 'cause of the nerves of whether I was actually ill. Not going to lie – I was hoping with all of my heart it was the latter!) – but when we got there we found someone else setting up their projector in the hall! What a shame, we'd been double-booked! Thought we'd have to just go back home but then an opportunity arose to speak to the CU – a group of about twenty 16-17 year olds. Much more manageable, the only problem being I had a prepared a message aimed at non-Christians. Raymond told me to just change my message. What?! It's enough of a challenge for me to prepare and share, but attempting to change my message 25 minutes beforehand! I prayed and yet again God just took over – he laid on my heart another message to share, he calmed my nerves and when it came to doing the actual sharing God just came through in a way I hadn't even hoped! All the kids were engaged and attentive and they laughed at all the right moments which always helps. I shared with confidence I didn't know I had! PTL! I think I definitely prefer the smaller, class-room type of situation where you can interact with the guys a little more than just standing and preaching to a big audience. Safe. The guys there were all really cool as well – got chatting to about seven of the lads outside afterwards. In a way I want to stay here and disciple them properly. It takes time but discipleship is way more important than any preaching ever will be. I've just got to trust that I've planted a seed and that someone else is going to come along and water it. I was getting discouraged about that when we first came on outreach actually – I was thinking that we don't stay long enough in any one place to properly make an impact – but then I read something in 1 Corinthians were Paul says, “I planted, Apollos watered but God gave the growth”. Both are needed – people who plant seeds and people who water them – and I just need to rest assured that this season of my life is one where I'm planting seeds in people's lives. I need to trust that other people are going to come behind and water that seed but most of all I need to trust and pray that God's going to give the growth because ultimately it's him that does the work. Amen!