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Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Malay Quarter tour--January 25, 2012

Because a friend had given Evangel a birthday present of three coupons for a tour of Bo Kaap--previously known as the Malay Quarter in Cape Town--she, her mom, and I made an appointment for the day before I left for home. It was a broiling hot day, and the tour was a walking one, so we sought shade whenever we could. The neighborhood was delightful to photograph, however.

This was a structure which was a haven for graffiti vandals, until recently when several artists were hired to redecorate it to depict the area's history, including the Malaysians having been brought to South Africa as slaves.

These Bo Kaap homes are brightly colorful and cheerful, many from the 17th and 19th  centuries. The tour guide, also the owner of the company, is in white.
There are at least eleven mosques in Bo Kaap. Our guide assured us ladies that the clothing restrictions for women are chosen by the ladies themselves ("Those cover-all veils are just man-made rules!"), and pants and/or long dresses in the mosque are worn, "...so the men won't look up our butts." Don't mind us, ma'am, just go ahead and express yourself however you like. Actually, I couldn't understand most of what she said, but apparently the bulk of it was complaining about the lack of government handouts and other persecutions for righteousness. I did, however, get part of the procedures Muslim corpses undergo, here in South Africa, and in Mecca (assembly line style there, due to the high traffic of "becoming late", as Mma. Ramotsewe would say.). After they've been entombed a while, then they are elbowed out of the way for fresh corpses, their bones left in a pile beside the tomb. At least that is how I understood the process.
Inside the owner's home for lunch, which was delicious, if small. The seating was not designed for tall people; I didn't know what to do with mine, and I'm not even tall, so I sat cross-legged. Still, an attractive room.

Two large windows opposite each other provided a lovely breeze for the room, and afford a nice view overlooking Cape Town.

We walked further up Signal Hill, and  our tour guide was walking so slow and gasping, I thought I might have to get behind her and push. In the distance is Lion's Head, which two or so years ago, a group of us climbed in the dark (never again, my dears).

The goal at the top, a cemetery. There is a tomb of one of the notable Muslims, which they even call "saints", plus the most pitiful-looking cemetery I've ever laid eyes upon. You can see the grave markers in the center of the picture--small, uneven, scattered. It's too late for those people, but many other Muslims can learn how to find eternal life through repentance and faith in Christ Jesus, if someone will just tell them.

 Our group standing at a spot past the cemetery, at the edge of a sharp drop-off. I wouldn't go near because it made me nervous with its loose rocks and no railing whatsoever. To stumble would probably mean death or permanent disablement. But my view was nice, much better than you'd get rolling down the hill.

Returning to our cars and thinking happy thoughts about air conditioning and ice cream awaiting us at Canal Walk.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Seal Island trip

Gloria and Daniel at Hout Bay, as we wander through the stalls waiting for our Seal Island cruise

A band of older men perform for disembarking cruise passengers (this is the boat of our voyage, also). One of the band members was missing a hand and the other was badly deformed. But they were a cheerful bunch, and I could appreciate the fact that they were earning a living instead of begging, so I didn't  mind tossing a few rand into the hat as I walked by.
Daniel, like Jonah, exploring the bowels of the ship. I found up on the bow of the ship more exciting,  as that was where the most action was in the tossing of the vessel in the waves.

Seal island itself. The seals ignored us totally, except for maybe cavorting more energetically. The group of Chinese (I could tell they were Chinese, because I caught "sheh sheh" a few times, the word for "Thank you") businessmen enjoyed Danielito and Connie, crowding around with their cameras and laughing. Danielito was scared and wanted to go to bed, but Connie enjoyed it all, with nary a queasy moment.
Food court African style, exotic and noisy. You have to grab a seat right away, and then one of your group goes and picks food for everybody. Gloria and I had baguettes, with spicy sauces, and for dessert I had an eclair; South African desserts are not as sweet as ours, so there is less guilt involved when one indulges, although one bulges nonetheless.
Here is the food court mime, near our table. He held quite still  most of the time,  but when he moved, he did it with the jerky motions of an early robot. He looked like a silver Wacko Jacko, so he creeped me out. As we walked past, I pretty much forgot him, but he reached out and grabbed my hand; I shook it, but wouldn't look at him. I wasn't in the mood to fork out for him, and I knew he was playing mime games with me.

Like these chairs? I thought they were cool. Actually, cool in more than one way.

Connie showing off her gymnastic skills, dressed  as a happy jailbird.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

More SA happenings

Evangel at the Worldview Summit for young people, participating in an icebreaker. This year it was held at Frontline  Ministries.
"Um, what are we looking for, Mom? I see no cats here to chase." Hiking to Sand Island through Marina de Gama, the next door neighborhood. You can see the Cinnabar Building in downtown Muizenberg, in the distance.
Opening presents, Josh and Connie overseeing. This is a coffee mug from Jivannadi Mission to Hindus, an excellent ministry.
Blowkarts can be rented at the beach parking lot, but I don't think I'll try. I've been on a sailboat only once, and Louise did the work then.
Gabi, at her mom Aquila's request, played the harp for me when we visited. It  is a lovely, old, restored harp. And speaking of restoring, Aquila and her husband restored their home themselves, and it is beautiful
The local African wildlife: they look hungry, but please do not feed them.
Notice the chain holding the car to the column. This is downtown Muizenberg.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Heading to another prison

Passing Khayelitsha, the  largest township in the country, of around 407,000 Black Africans, and the predominant language is Xhosa. The shacks are made of tin, cardboard, or whatever can  be found.

 A vineyard in the wine-making town of Rawsonville, which has the distinction of having the highest rate  of alcoholism  in the world, partly because the employers pay their workers in wine.
 The prison itself, an hour and a half from Muizenberg. It is well kept and still improving, and the staff are friendly.
Still on the grounds, looking toward the vlei and the mountains, beautiful scenery. Photos aren't allowed inside, so no ministry pictures can be taken.

Friday, January 13, 2012

New Year's Day outreach

Paul is preaching with chalk talks, and Vicki is rewarding those who answer correctly his quiz questions. The chocolate bars were a hit and drew crowds in both locations. One guy, slightly inebriated perhaps, asked me what Heaven is. Evangel got a proposal, which I assume she turned down--I wasn't there. Anyway, this time was considered the best Muizenberg New Year's Day outreach yet.

We gave out thousands of booklets telling how to repent and believe the Gospel. God loves these Xhosa and Afrikaans speaking people, and so do we. Not many tracts were refused, and folks had all day to read them., as they basically come to lie around and picnic. The hand on the right holding the Mipro is James', and that is the sound system.