The next chapter

So I'm off to South Africa the day after tomorrow. I'm gonna be writing the team blog so I won't be updating this one as often but when I've got the team one sorted I'll post the link.

I hope you have a great Christmas.

Season's Greetings

Hey. Hows your Christmas going so far? Finished your shopping? Been to any carol services? Sent all your Christmas cards? (I’ve massively failed on the Christmas card front this year. Not because I don’t love you and want you to have an unmerry Christmas, but because it’s so expensive to post home. How paper can cost so much to send I’ll never understand).

For me Christmas this year is a bit different. To start with its not cold. In my mind a prerequisite for  Christmas is that it’s a bit cold. It doesn’t have to snow  (it never does) but a bit of frost wouldn’t go amiss. Not gonna happen here. It’s in the twenties at the mo and it’s still raining. We spend a lot of time complaining that it’s so humid. Kinda like it probs was when Mary and Joseph trekked to Bethlehem (did you see that seamless transition from weather to seasonally relevant Bible story? The weather really is a good starting point for any conversation).

So we all know the Christmas story, so much so that you might zone out a but when they read it in carol services (or maybe that’s just me). But how well do you know the Christmas prophecies? You know, the short readings before the nativity bit gets read?

So the other day I was reading Isaiah 9 when my Christmas prophecy alarm bell was triggered (it sounds like Away in a Manger and smells like mince pies and mulled wine):

For to us a child is born, 
   to us a son is given,
   and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
   Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
   Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
 Of the greatness of his government and peace
   there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
   and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
   with justice and righteousness
   from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
   will accomplish this.

This year this scripture means more to me than just another part of the carol service. It’s a promise that I place alot of hope in. It’s the promise that injustice will end. I believe in God’s promises.

Not that I think we have no responsibility and should wait for God to fix everything. He’s put us here for a reason, one of them being that we are to bring bits of His Kingdom here on earth. I believe that we have to help those who suffer. Sure we can’t fix everything but we can make a difference, even if it’s just to one person. We can make a difference between loneliness and love. A difference between health and sickness. A difference between slavery and freedom. A difference between hunger and food. A difference in illiteracy and education. A difference between justice and injustice.

 So this year Christmas is different (I’m really trying to not sound cheesy but it’s harder than you think). This year I’m wondering about differences.

I hope that you have a Christmas filled with differences. Differences of Hope, Joy and Love.

Another Rainy Day in Auckland (Week 12)

So what have I done this week?

Clean like there’s no tomorrow (but that actually doesn’t make sense because if there was no tomorrow then you wouldn’t really bother cleaning would you?). LoveFeast. Eat like there’s no tomorrow. Say goodbye to Team Thailand (the Fellowship is broken – sad times and tears). Go see some Christmas lights. Get carried up a mountain. Shop (I finally had a legitimate reason to shop). Get stuck in traffic. Walk in the rain. And a few other things.

So I’m guessing that you’re wondering what a LoveFeast is. Sounds like some weird hippy cult thing right? Fear not, it’s just a YWAM thing. We all dressed up (not an easy task when all the clothes you have are suitable for lazing around in) and had a feast. And I mean FEAST – like in Beauty and the Beast but with less (make that no) singing household items – however we did have a boyband serenade us. The kitchen crew slaved away for hours and hours to make what was probably the best meal I’ve had in the last three months – I was so glad I was wearing a dress with no waist band. We had food, Secret Santa and awesome slideshow and video (can I say video? Sounds a bit old skool. What are you even supposed to call it?) of the last three months. It was crazy how many things we’d done that I’d forgotten about.

On to the next big thing of the week: shopping.

This was the first time I’d been proper shopping in three months. Three. Long. Months. It was a bit of a culture shock to go to an actual real life shopping centre. It was even better than what I dreamt it would be. When we first got there I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to look at every thing and go in every shop. I think my jaw dropped. To top it all off, what should have been a twenty minute journey back to the church took two hours. I’m blaming it on the rain (Team Thailand took the sun with them and its rained for the last few days). Fortunately all was not lost – as we were too late to prepare dinner (leftover vegan food) and so we went to MacDonald’s instead. Goodbye healthy vegan food, hello evil fastfood food.

So now I’m guessing that you’re wondering why I was carried up a mountain?

On Thursday our team leader (Andy) set us a challenge - we had to walk to the top of Mount Eden (an old volcano about a mile-ish away) keeping one person off the ground at all times. We also had one person who was blindfolded and another who couldn’t speak. To make it harder the blindfolded person could only be led by the one who couldn’t speak.

Just picture it: eight people walking along the road, one with someone on their back, one blindfolded and another trying to communicate with elaborate gestures. Did I mention it was raining? Well it was raining, so throw in a few umbrellas and rain coats.

I think it was a combination of the promise of ice cream if we were successful, the challenge and male pride that got us to the top. It wasn’t an easy task but it was fun. Even though I had to suffer the indignity of being carried quite a bit of the way. Why was it undignified? Just ask yourself one simple question: would the Queen do it? If she wouldn’t then clearly it’s not dignified. But then again I’m not the Queen so maybe I’m setting my standards too high.  

Health and Safety (Week 11)

Final week of lecture phase teaching. Crazy times. Great speaker (another Brit who’s moved to NZ – you tryin to tell me something God?). Great teaching. New concepts.

It feels both like we’ve been here forever and yet like time’s gone so fast since we got here.

So this week we (Team South Africa) had a health and safety briefing on how not to get HIV/mugged/shot/attacked by baboons, snakes or spiders when we’re in SA. General conclusion: we’re probs all gonna die - mugging is far more likely but death is possible. However one of our speakers mentioned that he’s never met a DTS student who died on outreach so there’s hope for us yet (o how we laughed).

The point when I realised we might die? When we were told what to do if someone tries to hi-jack the van.

The point when I realised mugging was pretty certain? When we decided that its probs best to carry some money in your pocket so that when(if) you get mugged you have something to give them.

Fun times await.

Mum, quit freaking out, I’m exaggerating for comic effect (ahem). For real though, we were only told what to do incase it happens. The chances of it happening are pretty slim if we’re safety conscious. But then someone got eaten by a shark when the team were there last year and the chances of us getting eaten by a shark are pretty slim too…

The truth though. This was the first week that I began to feel real excitement for the trip. Until this week it seemed too far away to be real. But now it’s less than two weeks away. The crazy thing is that Team Thailand leave on Wednesday – tears await.

Decisions Decisions (Week 10)

So Week Ten came and went before I even realised it. I was hoping for a nice relaxed week on the character and nature of God. I soon realised that wasn’t gonna happen. Week Eight was high energy intensity, week ten was a low energy intensity. My brain did not have the opportunity it so wanted to sit back and listen. It was a good week though. I’m too tired to write much about it. It was good, you’ll have to imagine the rest.

On Friday our subject was refugees (Justice Friday remember). Our speaker was this awesome English lady who now lives in New Zealand. She’s had one of those crazy lives that involves living in a few of the ‘-istans’ (yep, you caught me – I can’t remember which ones).

It’s estimated that there are 44 million refugees worldwide.

That’s 44 million people who, due to political instability, genocide, famine, war or persecution, have been forced to leave their homes and seek safety somewhere else. 44 million people who have had to leave all their belongings and take only what they can carry. 44 million people who have had to leave everything familiar, travel to somewhere new and start all over again.

44 million people.

That’s 11 times the population of New Zealand. 11 times. I hope I didn’t freak you out but I had no idea there were so many. Did you?

A refugee has no home to return to. Often no rights within the country they seek refuge.  And contrary to popular belief, many refugees can only afford to travel across the nearest border, not into western countries. I was ashamed to learn that western countries, either through certain action or inaction, in the past or at the present, have caused the reasons for so many people leaving their homes behind.

I found this topic a real challenge as I was confronted with my own inaction. With some topics we’ve looked at its been hard to see how I could help other than by praying and giving money to organisations that work within these areas. But we don’t have to look far to meet someone who is seeking refuge where we live.

I'm not coming home (part 3)

Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m sorry to say this but I’m not coming home. I miss cold weather and rain. If I come home as planned in April then it will be spring I want winter. If I stay in New Zealand then I’ll get winter. If I come home then I’ll have to wait till October and by then I’ll probably be completely winter-deficient. This is a risk I am not willing to take. I’m sure you’d rather not take it too. Hence I think I should stay. Hope to see you soon. Maybe you can come visit if you get bored of the weather back home.

Love Rach x x

P.S. Happy Birthday Mum

Is That a Kingdom-Building Shirt? I Don't Think So (Week Nine)

This week was a lot more low key. But every bit as mind-boggling (check that – I just used mind-boggling in a sentence. I haven’t decided if that’s super-cool or super-sad. Ten points for me either way) as the previous one. Our topic was the Kingdom of God. Something I always assumed was pretty simple - read the parables, see what Jesus said and then put it all together) but apparently not. I don’t know why I thought it would be simple, you would have thought that I would have learnt by now, but apparently not. I can now add this to my list of topics for which I have many questions and no answers. Yet. I believe they will come eventually.

However knowing that there are a few different approaches to looking at this topic means that I can breathe easy that I don’t have the answers (so maybe I’ll take it off the list).

Our movie (I wanna say film but it seems too formal and English) last week was Hotel Rwanda. I’d previously avoided this movie as I’m a complete wimp and like to avoid things that are too real and sad. Hotel Rwanda is based on the true story of a hotel manager and his struggle to keep his family and other refugees safe during the genocide in Rwanda in 1994. You should watch it. It wasn’t half as grim as I thought it would be.

On Saturday we went to Bethel Beach. Did not want to leave. The sand was so black it was purple; it glittered more than all the jewellery in Accesorize. I think I could live there for ever (sorry Mum). On Sunday I skipped church and went on a mini-road trip with a few others to Rotaroa. A city about two hours (or maybe a bit more – I’m no good at judging distances or timing) from Auckland. It’s become a well-known tourist spot due to the thermal activity in the area. Unfortunately it has the unfortunate (is it even legal to use unfortunate twice –make that three times- in the same sentence) effect of releasing lots of sulphur. So most of town pretty much smelt like someone had extremely bad flatulence.

While there we went to a natural hot spring. It was hot. And I mean haitch  to-the oh to-the tee.. We couldn’t stay in it for too long. Probs a good thing as I was convinced that some hippos were gonna roll up out of nowhere and sit on us or something. For real. It was like out of a horror film. We turned off the main road down a dirt track and then walked into the woods. Getting changed in the woods is an interesting situation. I had to pretend like it was normal and nothing like the beginning of a horror movie. As you’ve probably guessed I made it out alive, just minus my outer layer of skin which I think was probably burned off by the water. But yeah, I’m a survivor – take that evil ninja Hippos.

Not for Sale

One of our assignments is a book report on a justice themed book. So here’s the blog version of mine:

One of things I do in my free time here is read. A lot. The school has a library that we can borrow books and DVD’s from. Last week (actually a few weeks ago but I didn’t manage to finish writing this post before now) I picked up a book called Not For Sale. I read the blurb and figured it would be a good read as I waited for one of my roommates to finish reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne (which I have now read and you should totally read too).  Not for Sale is about the global slave trade and how we can fight it. I figured this would be some good light reading before going to sleep.

I was completely unprepared for what I was about to read. I guess I thought it would give a load of depressing stats about modern-day slavery and then tell me to write to my politician to try and get them to deal with it (which I’m not saying is a bad thing. We do need to put more pressure onto our governments to do more to combat slavery). Instead what I read were personal accounts of former slaves of their life in slavery and how they were rescued by certain organisations/people. Different chapters cover a different type of slavery, so there are accounts of sexual slavery in Cambodia and Thailand, bonded labourers in South Asia, child soldiers in Uganda, sex syndicates in Europe, child slavery in Peru and domestic slavery in the USA. Each chapter also tells how the organisation that helped them was started or how the person that helped them came to be aware of their plight.

Most of the organisations mentioned were started by people with no specialist knowledge of modern-day slavery or a great amount of resources. They just saw the need and then did what they could to help. In many cases they had to expand what they were doing to cope with the demand for their services. For this reason I think it’s one of the most inspiring books I’ve read, ordinary people doing what they could to help. It means that we can all do something to help. We don’t have to be super rich super geniuses (or should that be geniuii? – sounds a bit like weird and looks like I can’t spell genuine though)

My conclusion: you should read this book. End of. You’ll understand why slavery bothers me so much if you do. If I wasn’t afraid of being ‘smited’ by God I would even say that you should read it more than you should read the Bible (JUST KIDDING.  You see this; I’m running back to the line).

'I am not for sale. You are not for sale. No-one is for sale.'

Life is not a Chocolate Muffin (Week Eight)

So I haven’t written for like two weeks. I’m blaming writer’s block. I spent two days in bed lamenting that I was letting my audience down. I was convinced that you good people of cyber space would be lost without my words of wisdom. All I could do was binge eat chocolate and write sad poetry. However. All is not lost. I appear to be over it (whoopwhoop).

So here goes: Week Eight.

Our topic was the Lordship of Jesus. Conclusion for the week – to really have Jesus as Lord is to have a heart like his; to see, treat and love people as he did. It was a crazy week. Our speaker was very loud. Very very loud. I retreated to the back row for a couple of days in the hope that it would be a bit quieter there. It wasn’t. I learned a lot though.

Friday was a bit different. We spent the day worshipping God through a New Testament version of the Tent of Meeting (big ol’ tent thing in the Old Testament). It was cray to-the zee (not to be confused with Jay Z.  - Sorry, couldn’t resist). Praise, worship, confession, tears, repentance, thanksgiving, sacrifice (don’t worry, it wasn’t animal sacrifices – although at one point we thought it would be. For real. I almost started crying), prayer, dancing and the presence of God. It was a tiring day (about 14 hours) but totally awesome. There has been few occasions when I’ve felt the presence of God so strongly and this was definitely one of them.

The day after we had a much needed lie-in and then went to Sheepworld in the afternoon. It was jokes. Not only were there sheep, and some really cute lambs but also: emus, possums (I didn’t know what they were either), pigs, rabbits, chickens, donkeys, guinea pigs and of course alpacas (what you  would naturally expect to find at a sheep farm).We saw a sheep dog demonstration thing. I now have renewed appreciation for the complexities of sheep farming and training working dogs.

So that’s it. A very brief outline of Week Eight. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.

Writer's block. Be back soon.

Outreach Update

So I don’t really have much new info since I last posted about it. However I do have an interesting fact: Muizenberg is great for surfing. Unfortunately the only thing (besides a hippo infestation) that would prevent me from surfing everyday (aside from having to get my hair wet) is that I might get eaten by a shark. I exaggerate not, someone was even eaten when the YWAM team were there last year.

However I’m thinking that there’s great potential for a three month long game of chicken. We’d have to change the name though; I’m thinking ‘Shark Bait.’

How d’you play? I’m thinking go into the sea and surround yourself with dead fish/cut your leg and whoever can stay in longest without getting eaten wins. Whoever runs for shore first earns the title of ‘Lily Livered Coward.’ If you get eaten you earn the title of’ The Honourable Sir Shark Bait’. If you win then we’ll just call you the winner. As you can tell, there’s more honour in being eaten, not that I’m suggesting that you should try it or anything (ahem).

Fortunately we have a doctor on the team who can patch us up if we have any near misses/aggressive negotiations/close encounters of the deathly kind. Mum - there’s no need to worry that you’ll get a midnight phone call informing you that I’ve been eaten by a shark, there’ll only be a three-ish hour time difference so you’re far more likely to get a call in the middle of the day. You can sleep easy.

Lions, Tigers and Hippos (week 7)

So we have reached the end of week seven. I know right, how crazy is it that I’ve been here for almost two months? D’you miss me yet? (Benjamin I was not asking you)

A few things that happened this week:

·         I changed the language on my iPod to French. I thought it would be fun. What I didn’t realize was that every app would now be in French. I might try German next week, providing I can figure out how to change it again. Je ne parle le francais so je ne sais pas if I can change it back.

·         I saw the biggest world map in New Zealand. England was cut in half, with each half on the opposite side of the map. I’m not quite sure what that’s supposed to symbolize but I’m not amused. It did have Croydon on the map though so its partway to atoning for its crime.

·         I went to an outdoor art exhibition called ‘Earth from Above’. It’s a collection of photos all taken from a hot air balloon by this guy called Yann Arthus Bertrand. There’s a film version of it. Check the trailer on Youtube. As one of the crew put it: it was “Freaking Rad” (just FYI – ‘rad’ is short for radical on the mean streets (shores?) of Lake Tahoe. Took me a while to figure this out). I’ve decided that once I’m a proper grown up with a coffee table (I don’t like coffee so I’m only gonna get it because it’s socially expected. I figure having a coffee table is enough for social conventions so don’t expect me to offer you coffee) I’m gonna get the book version. For real. The photos were freaking rad. If you’re lucky I’ll even invite you over to see it.

·         I realized why hippos are one of the most dangerous animals. I went to Auckland Zoo yesterday. It was great despite the whole wild-animals-in-cages-thing. Have you even seen a sad elephant? It’ll give you nightmares. Now for a bit of introspection – I was really struck by how different all the animals were. A bit obvious I know but it’s what I thought. As if I didn’t already know – God sure can create. Create to the max. Anyways, back to hippos – I don’t think I’d ever seen one before. I was terrified. I almost cried. They were huge. And I didn’t even see all of them. They were mainly submerged in water. You see this break down of sentence structure? Just thinking about them makes me went to hide in a cupboard.  I totally have new appreciation for the bit in Job when God talks about the might of hippos (well, ‘behemoth’ but some translations say hippo):

Take a look at the mighty hippopotamus. I made it just as I made you. It eats grass like an ox. See its powerful loins and the muscles of its belly. Its tail is as straight as a cedar. The sinews in its thighs are tightly knit together. Its bones are tubes of bronze. Its limbs are bars of iron. It is a prime example of God’s amazing handiwork. Only its creator can threaten it. The mountains offer it their best food, where the wild animals play. It lies down under the lotus plants, hidden by the weeds. The lotus plants give it shade among the willows beside the stream. It is not disturbed by raging rivers, not even when the swelling Jordan rushes down upon it. No-one can catch it off guard or put a ring in its nose and lead it away. Job 40v15-24.

I usually have this crazy irrational fear that crazy axe men are waiting behind bushes for the opportune moment to jump out and kill me but now I have this crazy irrational fear that hippos are waiting to be unleashed (a bit like the tiger in the Monty Python self-defense class). I’m guessing that Ninja mode won’t really work on hippos so I’m working on a new strategy, maybe Safari Guide mode. Any suggestions would be much appreciated.

So what else have I been up to? This week our topic was the Father Heart of God. I can’t really sum it up. God loves you. More than you could possibly understand. Face it. You can’t escape the love.

Last weekend we went to Piha beach. It was the first time I’d been to a beach with black sand. It was a great day – blue skies, sunshine and surfers having to be rescued by the lifeguards. It was also really windy so there was quite a lot of sunburn (just realised that I started the last three sentences with ‘it’. Sorry). Fortunately the advantages of being ‘mixed White British and Black Caribbean’ meant that I worked on my tan instead.

Week Six

So it’s week 6 already and I’ve begun to miss things from home. I know what you’re thinking, “it’s only after six weeks that this girl begins to miss things from home? Does she even have a heart?” The answer to that is no. I do not have, nor have ever had, a heart (at least not since I lost it while watching Castaway. I almost lost my sanity too but fortunately Wilson was there for me to talk to).

So what do I miss?

·         My wardrobe – I miss my clothes. I’m bored of the ones I have with me. I even miss the clothes that I haven’t worn for years but can’t bear to be parted with – you never know when you’ll need your Scary Spice leopard print dress (actually I do, my surprise welcome home party (hint hint) is gonna be Spice Girls themed. You have until sometime in April to get your costume ready and to learn the dance for Stop Right Now).

·         Croy to-the den – it misses me too, I can tell these things. The psychology of your home city was the second lecture we had at uni after how to read minds.

·         English accents – I was chatting to someone at the hostel the other day and had to ask if she was English as I couldn’t tell from her accent. Turns out she’s from West Sussex. I’m worried that by the time I go home I won’t be able to tell the difference between Southern accents and Northern ones.

Oh yeah, and family and friends of course.

Our justice movie this week was a documentary called War Dance, check www.wardancethemovie.com . It’s about a group of children of the Acholi tribe in Northern Uganda. The rebel army, the Lord’s Resistance Army, have raided the nearby villages and homes and so the children and their remaining family members live in a camp guarded by the national army. Any movement outside of the camp and away from the protection of the national army guarding the camp is dangerous. The children featured are part of a group from their school competing in a national music, drama and dance competition in Kampala. Out of all the films we’ve watched on the school I found this one the hardest to watch. The pain of the children as they told of what the LRA had done to them and the destruction caused to their families was evident. However it was also one of the most hopeful, the pain and torment was replaced with joy when they were performing. Sometimes it feels like God is so far away from those in these situations, but the joy they found in performing was evidence that although he may seem far away, in truth he’s right there.

This is my confession

Dear Reader,
I have a confession to make. You may already be aware of my error and so I apologise for any discomfort caused as a result of my actions. In a previous entry (Home Sweet Hostel) I spelt Filipino incorrectly. I am so sorry. I have since corrected the entry to cover my shame.
Yours in contrition Rachel

I believe in a thing called Love (week 5)

This week (check how my first sentence didn’t start with ‘so’ – my writing skills must be improving) our teaching was on relationships; with God, family, community and the whole who should you marry thing.

A strong emphasis was placed on using our identity and passion to come up with a creative response to a need in our areas. Suggestions on a postcard please (you have my address, or if you don’t then email/comment and I’ll send it to you. Not that I’d love a bit more of the old snail mail or anything. Yes, this is a guilt trip – I make no apologies). Speaking of which…

Heaps of thanks to the lovely ladies who sent me some mail this week. It’s great to hear from home and be reminded that it’s still there. Speaking of which…

The hostel has really begun to feel like home. My measure of home: somewhere I feel comfortable wearing no earrings. I have a friend who shall remain nameless, let’s call her ‘Sophie Edmonds,’ who once said that she’d feel more naked without eyeliner on than clothes. I’m the same with earrings. No make-up is easy, I do it all the time, but if you’re asking me to be seen in public with no earrings on then you’re clearly crazy/don’t know me half as much as you should to be posing such a question. So yeah, it was really sunny a few days ago (sorry people that are stuck in the frozen wasteland that is In-ger-land) and to avoid strange tan lines on my ears (yes I am that vain, and yes it is possible) I took my earrings out without having a mental breakdown and chilled out, in public, on the sun deck at the hostel. I hereby dub thee YHA City Hostel, Sir Home of Rachel the Wise.

We had Friday off this week as on Saturday we all took part in a super cool event called City Lights. A few churches across Auckland come together for a weekend a few times a year to serve local communities. Different groups did different projects e.g. painting a Girl Guides hut, gardening in a local school, helping in renovations at a women’s refuge. I was in a group that went to a home for young/expectant mums to do craft activities. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don’t like babies; I can cope when kids are old enough to talk in grammatically correct sentences but not before then. I’m being serious; I’ve only started talking to my brother this last year as he’s only just learnt basic English grammar. So when I found out where I’d be all day I spent the next hour holding onto my seat to stop me running for the hills (which never seem to be too far away in Auckland). However I surprisingly managed to survive the day, probs because there was never more than one baby in the room at a time. It was a bit awkward at first: ‘hello, we’ve come to spend the day hanging out and making Christmas decorations.’ Cue the speedy exit of mum and child. Not that we actually said that but that was the general reaction after we entered rooms. Or maybe it’s because we smell or something. The afternoon was a lot less awkward. I think my love of putting PVA glue on my arms and then peeling it off when it’s dry definitely got me branded as ‘that weird girl who kept putting glue on her arms’. Makes a change from ‘that girl who sat there and said nothing ‘so I guess you could say that it’s an improvement. One thing I realised from the conversations that we had was how complex their stories were. (Insert appropriate comment blaming the media/Rupert Murdoch and his agenda for world domination for encouraging our stereotypes).

All in all it’s been a tiring few weeks, I’ve never had my beliefs about God challenged on such a consistent basis and as a consequence my brain has melted. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a good thing, the only problem is (I really don’t have the time, I’ve got one night only, one night only…) that I somehow need to reform it, like a phoenix emerging from the ashes. I’m looking forward to what the next few weeks will bring.

Once Upon an Outreach

The promised outreach info:

There’s eight in our team, five girls and three guys. We have a quite mutlicultural team with a mix of Norweigan, Korean, American and British. At the moment the plan is to stay at the YWAM base in Muizenberg. One thing we’ll be doing is working with an organisation called Justice Acts who try to combat human trafficking, check www.justiceacts.org So we might be going into schools and doing presentations to ‘at risk’ groups about the dangers of human trafficking. Another thing we’ll be doing is going to a home for disabled children and hanging out with them. That’s all I’ve got for now. Will give more info when I have it.

I'm not coming home (part 2)

Dear Mum and Dad,

I am sorry to say this but I’m not coming home. I’m addicted to Moro Gold bars. You can’t get them in the UK and so I must stay in New Zealand or move to a country that does have them, Norway maybe. I know you’re probs wondering what this strange drug is. Well, it’s a ‘smooth textured chocolate flavoured centre with crunchy biscuit pieces surrounded in caramel all covered in Cadbury Dairy Milk milk chocolate.’ Sounds like heaven but with more calories right? Tale heart, a solution can be reached. All you’d need to do is have about 30 bars shipped to the UK every month and then it’ll be fine. If not then I guess I’ll see you at Christmas (the one in June not December). I hope that you’re all doing well.

Love Rach x x

Home Sweet Hostel (week 4)

Okey dokey, okey dokey, I’ve got a lot to cover so fasten your seatbelts and please keep all personal belongings inside the cart at all times. In case of emergency, your nearest exit is through the door behind you.

So last week’s entry (one quarter down, three to go – what a stupid title) was kinda rushed. I don’t feel like I gave you a proper idea of the week and so I shall endeavour, dear reader, to do better this week. My excuse is that I was super freaking out about packing (it usually takes me about two weeks to pack for anything and so the prospect of only having a couple of days was clearly inhibiting my brain).

It’s 9.30pm, I’m sitting on the sundeck listening to some of the guys play guitar and soaking up the super creative vibes in the hope that my blog will be more interesting if they lend me some creativityism (yes, that was a blatant fish for compliments, and yes ‘creativityism’ is a real word). I can see some of the lights of the city and hear cars driving past (I can also see into the flats opposite and so I’m checking them out for sniper potential). Life is pretty sweet.

For some life isn’t sweet. Our justice movie this week was called Human Trafficking. No prizes for guessing what it’s about. It’s a dramatization, based on facts, about a global network of criminals who buy and sell women and children and then force them into prostitution. It follows the lives of a number of women and children who end up working in brothels.

One woman was tricked by her new boyfriend into a weekend abroad and then sold and taken to America where she is forced to become a prostitute. She is kept under control by threats to her daughter who waits at home for her to return.

A teenager from an eastern European country (can’t remember which one) enters a competition for a modelling contract in America. The winners are then taken to America where they are confronted with the fact that the competition was a front and instead they have to work in a brothel.

A 12-year-old American girl is on holiday in the Philippines when she is abducted and made to work in a brothel. A young Filipino girl in the same brothel was sold by her father as the family needed the money.

These are stories of how many women and children end up being trafficked. This is the reality of the twenty-first century. Selling people is the third most profitable criminal activity after drugs and arms dealing. It’s something that happens in all major cities.

This is a particularly relevant message to those in London - where major sporting events are increases in trafficking and prostitution follow. While we’ll be celebrating the Olympics (or complaining about how many millions over budget it was, overcrowding on public transport and general shambles of the whole thing) there’ll be hundreds of women in our city being raped multiple times a day so that someone can get richer.

Wanna take some action? Check the ‘Act’ pages on http://www.stopthetraffik.org And, of course some serious serious prayer is needed.

I was totally gonna start this entry with last weekend but clearly those creative vibes I’ve been soaking up had other ideas. So yeah, we’re back at the hostel after a few days outside the city. We stayed on a Marae (Maori meeting place) near Tauranga (a city about two hours from Auckland) for five-ish days (Friday to Wednesday). It was a super great few days, I even got used to the whole all 27 of us sleeping in the same room thing. I certainly now have new appreciation for our five person room at the hostel. To be honest, I don’t think I’d manage sleeping in a room by myself anymore, I totally won’t be able to handle being in a house by myself. I’ll have to switch to ‘Ninja mode’ to cope (wearing a balaclava and black clothes, patrolling the house with a Samurai sword and hiding behind the fridge. And yes I do realise that ninjas and Samurais are different but if I need to mix my martial arts in order to feel safe then I will).

So yeah we stayed in a super beautiful part of Welcome Bay (I think that’s what it’s called. I’m still just getting into cars and not really knowing where I’m going or how to get there. I mean the YWAM cars not randoms. Stop panicking Mum). The view from the Marae looked out across Welcome Bay and over to Mount Maunganui (which I climbed, but I’ll get to that later).

I need to tell you about a very strange thing happened over the few days we were there: I had an overwhelming compulsion to be outside. Yes, Rachel-who-loves-the-filth-and-grime-of-cities, wanted to be outside in the country, where the air is clean and the wildlife lives. I seriously don’t understand it but for that day every spare minute I had I spent outside. Maybe it was just my body telling me that I needed to top up my tan. Or maybe I’m being converted to the ways of the country. If it’s the later please pray for deliverance. Next thing you know I’ll be driving a tractor and not understanding why you don’t know the difference between hay and straw (apparently they’re different things). This reminds me of something super monumental that also happened this weekend; I saw my first New Zealand sheep. They looked just like the British ones (once I’m country I’ll probs be able to tell the difference).

So about that mountain - on Saturday we went to the coastal part of Tauranga where I climbed Mount Maunganui. An actual extinct volcano mountain. You know Mount Doom? Well it looked like that but more green and with sheep. So I can now add ‘experienced Kiwi mountain trekker’ to my list of accomplishments - professional tap dancer (I figure performing in two dance shows makes me professional), experienced kiwi bush trekker (we went on a death hike in the bush a couple of weeks ago) and interpretive triangle player -  take that Mr Darcy I am properly accomplished). The view from the summit was super awesome.

During the week we had lectures in the afternoon and in the mornings we went to the Tauranga House of Prayer (THOP). Every morning they have four hour prayer sessions. At first I was like ‘four hours? What am I gonna do for the other three hours and 50 minutes after I’ve prayed?’ But it was actually really cool. Having an allotted four hours to spend chilling with God was super awesome. I often feel that there’s so many things I say that I’ll pray about tomorrow because I don’t have the time now and so having four hours to sit and be still with God was super cool.

The thing (well there’s two actually) that struck me most from lectures last week was that everything is for God’s glory. Even Jesus coming to earth, dying and being resurrected was for the glorification of God. I don’t think I’d ever considered that Jesus died and was resurrected for God’s glory. It was all about me. And how he had saved me. There’s a verse that speaks of doing all things for the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10v13). That should be our ultimate purpose. I’m thinking, so that I don’t forget this, I’m gonna name my next pet Captain Glory Indiana Skywalker (Glory for short). For real. I just need to decide what animal to get. I’m thinking an Alpaca. Preferably a ginger one.

The other thing that really struck me this week was being reminded that God comes first, no matter what. In the context of social justice, no matter how important the cause what’s it really worth if we sacrifice our relationship with God in order to get there? If there’s no intimacy with God then we’re heading for disillusionment and burnout. In Matthew Jesus speaks of gaining the world but losing your soul (How do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul in the process? Matthew 16v36). I used to think that this only applied to material possessions and striving to achieve everything the world said you needed in order to be successful. I now realise that achieving all you want, whether for justice, work, church or family is of little consequence if at the end of it you’ve spent so little time with God that you no longer care about him.

Another thing I realised this week (it’s been a week of revelation) is that Kiwis celebrate Guy Fawkes Night (I almost super overused some exclamation points there but I thankfully caught myself just in time). If I’m honest (and I feel that I know you, o virtual reader, well enough to be honest) before I came I was more upset about the prospect of missing bonfire night than my family. I now see this as another reason to stay in New Zealand (Benjamin you can stop rejoicing because you still can’t have my room).

So there it is – the last week or so. I know I said I was gonna give you some info on South to-the Afr to-the Ica but if you’re not exhausted from reading this then I’m certainly exhausted from typing. Bonus points for reading this far, if you let me know I’ll send you a sheep or something.

P.S. Have you noted the use of ‘super’? It’s my work for the week. Everything here is super. Everyone says it, you should say it too. Here’s some examples: “Rach your blog is super awesome” (this would also be a fitting compliment should you so wish to boost my ego in such a way) or “Rach, I super miss you” (so I know that doesn’t sound like it should work but it’s totally what you’re thinking right now. I’m a psychologist don’t you know, I read minds).

Fairtrade

Our justice movie last week was called Black Gold. Check http://www.blackgoldmovie.com/ Its about the impact Fairtrade coffee has on some communities in Ethiopia. As my family can testify fairtrade makes me angry (something which is usually quite hard to do, unless your grammar is really bad), mainly because I don't get why we don't get it.

Here's the scenario. You can choose one of two products, A or B. Both are made in the same place but by different farmers, A or B. Farmer A is part of a fairtrade co-operative. He receives a fair price for his produce, as a result Farmer A can afford to feed his family and pay for his children's education. Farmer B sells his produce onto a corporation. He receives less than 5% of its total value. Farmer B's children work instead of going to school as their father doesn't have the money to feed all of them. Farmer A is realising his dream of a better life for his family. Farmer B no longer dreams, he is caught in a cycle of poverty for which he sees no end. 

So which product would you rather buy? A or B? Fairtrade or non-fairtrade? Something which helps improve standards of living or something which keeps people locked in poverty?

I don't know about you but I'd rather buy product A. I know what you're thinking, "but Rach you told us that they taught you how to read minds at uni so how come you can't guess our reaction to Fairtrade?" You know what? I don't understand it either. I would have thought that more people, businesses and churches would care more about how they contribute to the economic slavery of millions but apparently they don't, saving an extra few pounds is more important.

There are a range of Fairtrade products available, including: coffee, sugar, tea, bananas, clothes, jewellery and flowers (take note boys queueing round the block to give me flowers - if they're not fairtrade then they better be made from recycled paper). Coffee, sugar, tea and bananas are easily avilable in most supermarkets. Clothes and flowers are a bit harder to access, although I think Marks and Spencer have a few fairtrade options for flowers. I've recently discovered http://www.peopletree.co.uk/ a UK-based fairtrade clothes company. So excited for coming home and being able to buy some.

So how do you know if its Fairtrade? It will have the fairtrade logo on it, you've probs seen it on Dairy Milk bars. Check http://www.fairtrade.org.uk/ for more details.

So yeah, buy more fairtrade. It's not that hard and I'll love you more for it.

I'm not coming home

Dear Mum (and Dad),
I am sorry to say this but I'm not coming home, I'm staying in New Zealand forever. I just found out that Christmas can be celebrated twice in New Zealand. Once in December and then again in June, when its cold. This is better than home, we only celebrate Christmas once. Maybe you could come visit me for Christmas.
Love Rachel x x

One quarter down, three to go (lectures that is)

We're going away this weekend to Tauranga so I'm posting this week's entry a few days early. We're gonna be spending some time on a Marae and at the Tauranga House of Prayer. 

This week our topic is the nature and character of God. Here's a few things we covered.

God is...

All-knowing - He reveals deep and mysterious things and knows what lies hidden in darkness, though he himself is surrounded by light. Daniel 2:22

All powerful - I am the Lord, the God of all peoples of the world. Is anything too hard for me? Jeremiah 32:27

Spirit - For God is Spirit. John 4:24

Glorious - Everything he does reveals his glory and majesty. Psalm 111:3 

Creator- You alone are the Lord. You made the skies and the heavens and all the stars. You made the earth and the seas and everything in them. You preserve and give life to everything, and all the angels of heaven worship you. Nehemiah 9:6

Love - God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. 1 John 4:16

And now for something completely different (yet entirely related).

So this is it. The moment y'all been waiting for (cue the dramatic/mysterious music). It's bigger than Lady Gaga (shock horror- who thought that was possible?). It's more important than the X-Factor final (I know you think that's not possible but trust me, it is). It's more exciting than the Die Hard films (I was skeptical too, but again you're gonna have to trust me).

Can you tell what it is yet? (I hope you read that in your best Rolf Harris voice)

The new Narnia Film?
                                   No.
The next Leeland album?
                            No.
Christmas?
                   No. 

It's (dramatic drumroll)...

...time to tell you where I'm going for outreach!!!! (when I started this blog I told myself that I couldn't use exclamation points and smiley faces to make my point, I had to learn to write properly. However, I think that outreach is totally worthy of exclamationising).

So yeah, I'm going to SOUTH AFRICA after Christmas. Yes you read it right, South to-the Afr to-the Ca. Muizenberg (think that's how you spell it) near Cape Town to be specific. I know what y'all thinking -'praise the Lord - someone there can fix her hair.' Now I don't wanna play the racism card but iz it coz I is Blak?!!

Will give more details later so be sure to tune in next week for the next installment of The Amazing Adventures of Rachel Holmes: Once upon a DTS                          

Week Two Already

I am so out of touch with current news. For the first time since I got here I checked out BBC news and discovered, among other things, that the labour leadership contest whatsit is over. I have absolutley no idea what's been going on at home so if y'all could comment something that has happened in the past couple of weeks that would be sweet.

I can't believe this week is over already, it seems like yesterday that I was writing last week's post. Phil Cunningham was our speaker this week. He's doing some super cool stuff at the mo - check out stepsofjustice.org

One of the things that really stuck out this week was the fact that we can all make a difference (super cliche I know) We tend to look at problems and go 'I can't fix everyone, the problem is too big so I may as well not bother.' Over this week I have come to realise that making a difference to one person's life is worth making the effort. It's not a failure if you don't change everyone's life, but it is a failure if you don't even bother to try to help at all.   

One of the things we did this week was pick one of three groups of people to represent for a day. Those who chose 'water' were not allowed to use water all day - including no showers, no drinking and no flushing the toilet. Those in the 'food' group were not allowed to eat all day but had to be present at all meals. I chose to be in the 'poverty' group. All we had that day was what we woke up with - so if you didn't sleep with shoes on then you had no shoes. If we wanted something to eat or drink we had to ask someone from the water or food group to get it for us. 
The point of the exercise was to give us a small insight into what it's like for people in these situations. I didn't know what a blessing shoes are until I walked to and from class in socks. I had a minor freakout when I took my socks off and saw how black with dirt my feet were, and I mean actual blackness - like midnight. The whole walk to and from school (I love calling it school) all I could think about was cutting my feet on something, getting an infection, followed by an awkward conversation with my mum explaining what I'd done and why I'd be home earlier than planned, and then naturally an amputation would follow (not that I'm overly dramatic or anything).

 Fortunately I didn't cut myself, but for those with no shoes who walk more dangerous routes than I did this is a real possibility. Unlike me, who would be treated in a nice hospital and would have my bills covered by medical insurance (unless they have a 'we won't cover you if you chose to go without shoes' clause, which is quite possible - the policy is 33 pages long and I would probs end up in a boredom induced coma if I attempted to read it all), those injured by not having any shoes may face being unable to work and therefore provide for their families, as well as being stuck with massive (supposedly not a real word, but if Shakespeare used it then why can't I?) hospital bills.
 
So what can you do? (Yep, the mind-reading still works). Well, if you're the praying type then a bit of the old knee-mail wouldn't go amiss. Supporting an organisation that provides shoes for those without would be super cool. I'd love to suggest an organisation to you but that's what google is for. If shopping is your thing then maybe you could buy some TOMS (again, google is the key here people).

So yeah, another great week. I also wrote a really long version of this post so email if you want to read it.

So You Told Me Slavery Was Over

so you told me slavery was over.
people were no longer bought and sold.
you said it was abolished by william wilberforce. 

you said wicked men came and forced free people onto ships in chains.
they had no choice. 
you said they were kept in degrading conditions
by those who cared more about money than humanity.

you said they were bought and sold at auction.
families torn apart in seconds.
you said they were forced to work long hours with no regard for their person.
you said escape was near impossible
they were trapped by stronger men.

it was seen as acceptable you told me,
no-one objected. 

no-one really cared.

we said how could they do that?
we'd never have accepted it
we would have put it right

you said the slave trade continued until a small group of people recognised it for what it was, 
disgusting
inhumane 
perverse

you said they worked hard to have the slave trade abolished.
then you told me it was finally all over.
 
bye bye slave trade
hello freedom

but what about today?

what about women promised better lives and then sold like cattle?
what about those kept in degrading conditions 
by men who care more about money than humanity?

what about children whose names are replaced by numbers?
those forced to satisfy the lust of 12 men a night?
what about those with no escape 
who are trapped by stronger men? 
 
how could you tell me it was over when it so clearly isn't?

you said it was seen as acceptable.
noone objected. 
noone really cared.
not us we said 
we'd have seen it for what it was,
disgusting 
inhumane
perverse
how could they have been so blind?
we would have put it right
we would have been abolitionists

but what about today? 
do we see it for what it is?

do we care?
or do we think it's acceptable?

will we be abolitionists?

Week One

NZ is 12 hours ahead of the UK at the moment and so everytime I work out what time it is back home I'm left feelin that y'all are really lazy. For example, if it's 7 in the evening here I'm thinking about all I've done that day and going 'man, those people at home are just starting their day! what have they been doing all this time?!' on the other hand it works out pretty choice (new kiwi word I've learnt) as I have an extra 12 hours to post my blog for the week.

So (I know you shouldn't start a sentence with 'so' but don't hate me cause I'm beautiful) it's been a good week but it's hard to sum up as there's been so many different elements to it. 

You could kinda say that this was an orientation week, a glimpse into what the next three months will be like. And (I know you shouldn't start a sentence with 'and' but again, quit hatin) if it's anything like this week I'm gonna be tired-to-the-max. I'm in bed and asleep by 10.15 most nights (wild times let me tell you) but I'm still tired by lunchtime. I think it's because my brain is actually having to work and the last time it had to work this hard I was trying to figure out the plot line in Pirates of the Carribean III. The other night we didn't turn the light out till (dramatic pause and drumroll please)... 11pm - the tears that were shed when we had to get up the next morning means that there will not be a repeat performance, atleast not on a school night. During orientation we covered the usual stuff like assignments, schedules and what to do in an earthquake (drop to your knees and pray was the general concensus). We also got to know each other alot better - answers to whether you would eat your dead friend if you were stranded on a mountain and eating them meant your survival were particularly revealing (there are a few people I'm not going hiking in remote places with).  

During the week we all had to share our stories - how we became Christians and why were were doing the dts. With my gift for public speaking I'm sure you can imagine the tears that were shed over what I had to say - particularly the tale of how God told me to go to deepest darkest Peru but instead I  wanted to go to the Bahamas and how I was thrown into the sea, swallowed by a giant fish and then spat out onto a beach and as a consequence am the humble person you all know and love.

On the level though - it was incredible to hear everyones stories and how God has brought us together for the next few months.

We also had a couple of lectures this week on 'hearing God's voice' and 'intercession'. Both topics were really challenging and made me question alot of what I had thought about them.

On Thursday we watched our first justice themed film. This week we watched 'Once Were Warriors'. It's about the breakdown of a family through domestic violence. It was a hard film to watch. One thing that really struck me during the film was how much it must grieve God's heart to have to watch this happen to those He loves on a daily basis. I found it hard to watch as it grieved my heart so how much more must it grieve the Father's heart? Feeling helpless to fix anything was a common response but we were reminded that prayer is more powerful than we think.

We've also done alot of fun stuff this week. On Saturday we visited an area of Auckland about 20 minutes away from the centre. We had some great fish and chips and then climbed a mountain. I kid you not, it was an actual mountain! We decided to go the quickest and most direct route which meant that I was practically crawling and holding onto grass to keep me from sliding all the way back down. It was totally worth it though as the view from the top was awesome. And not just the everyday kinda 'awsum' which is greatly overused and abused, but it was actually AWE SOME. I tried taking a few photos (which i'll try and put up soon) but it was impossible to capture the vastness and beauty that we could see. On one side was the city centre with the skyscrapers and the sky tower all nice and shiny in the sun, on the other was an old volcano (think mount doom). Inbetween was more of Auckland, and opposite that were (was?) a few islands off the coast.

So yeah, it's been a good week. I hope you've had a good one too. 

Life in Auckland so far

I have a confession to make - I almost said "y'all" yesterday. A consequence of hanging out with mainly Americans for two days. I'm thinking of increasing the englishness so that I don't lose my accent but aside from drinking more tea and trying the old skool banter I can't think what to do (this is serious, I just thought the last few words in a southern American accent). Any suggestions?    

Its been great so far. The school starts on Sunday (so excited) so we've been exploring the city and using free Internet in coffee shops for the last couple of days.

We're staying in a hostel in central Auckland, which is cool cause we're in the centre but not so cool that we have two female toilets and one shower on our floor. I'm sharing a room with four other girls (three American and one Swiss). As we're in a hostel we have practically no storage space. I know what y'all (see, there it goes again) thinking: but Rach where you gonna put all the presents you're gonna buy me? Simple solution- if you give me £5 then I'll post it to you, if not, well what can I say? - you snooze you bro, that's how it works on street countdown. Get to know.

I love the city but it's really hilly and after two days I can say that it ties with New York for third greatest city in the world (1. Croy to-the den, 2. Lon to-the don).

I'm not sure what you wanna know, so either pass it on to family, email or comment.

I'm off to church now so I'll talk to y'all later (see what I mean?!)

Early Morning

so it's about six Friday morning over here (7 pm thursday at home) and having been struggling for over 2 hours to get back to sleep (the birds singing happily outside my window are lucky I didn't bring a gun) I've decided to give up and write this instead .

So I made it here no problems. I didn't end up stranded in a terminal in Dubai or Melbourne forced to learn different languages from a guide book, living at one of the gates or building a fountain. I was picked up at the airport by a couple of the YWAM staff members which confirmed my belief that my fear of it all being an elaborate but well executed internet scam was irrational the journey itself was the longest day of my life. I had no idea that New Zealand was so far away (curse you world maps that make everything look so close!!)

The birds have gone now so gonna try and get some more sleep


they have strange Internet here so I'm sending this from my iPod in a coffee shop with free wifi.

Yoda vs The Princess Bride

So. This is it. This time tomorrow I should be on my way to NZ.

Excited? You bet.

Nervous? Without a doubt.

Have I packed yet? Almost. I magically have a bit of extra space in my bag (it’s very high-tech, got one of those magic Mary Poppins compartments that JML sell) and I’m trying to decide whether to pack more books or more clothes. I’ve narrowed it down to my purple Yoda jumper or The Princess Bride by William Goldman.

I have excellent arguments for both:

Yoda jumper – has a glow in the dark Lightsabre on it, which will be extremely useful when trying to see in the dark.

The Princess Bride – it’s a ‘classic account of True Love and High Adventure.’ Need I say more?

Answers on a postcard please.

Dad said six months isn't long enough

So, I’m off to New Zealand in a week and have decided to write a blog so that anyone who’s interested can see what I’m up to. I’m hoping it won’t end up in one of those fake-half-brother-trying-to-kill-me-when-I’m-on-my-way-to-the-prom-scenarios. You may laugh but it does happen (respekt* to the One Tree Hill fans).

 Why am I abandoning my hair straighteners and departing the ever-so-sunny shores of England for a country on the other side of the world with millions more sheep than people? (...if the sheep were organised...)


Well, I’m doing a discipleship course with an organisation called Youth With A Mission (YWAM).


“What’s that?” you ask (don’t worry, I’m not psychic, they just taught us how to read minds in our first psychology lecture). Well, it’s a course designed to ‘train Christians to be, and make disciples of Jesus.’ The course is split into two parts, a lecture phase and an outreach phase. The lecture phase has lectures (no kidding) on a range of different topics (e.g. nature and character of God, identity in Christ). The outreach phase involves, get this, outreach. I’ll be part of a team that travels outside of New Zealand to work with a ministry that tackles an issue of injustice. Location to be decided later, but possibly Cambodia, India, Israel, Jordan, Thailand or Uganda.


Let me guess, your next question is: “don’t they have any in England? “


Yep, YWAM has bases running courses all over the world, including locations a lot closer to home. Some courses have a particular focus, e.g. music, surfing, art. The course I’m doing has a focus on justice. As part of the lecture phase I’ll be spending time looking at justice related topics (e.g., economic exploitation, the sex trade) and where God fits in those (e.g. a biblical understanding of justice and mercy).


“Why justice?” I hear you ask (Didn’t those mind-reading lectures payoff? Next thing you know I’ll be Patrick Jane’s replacement, California here I come). Justice is important. Simple as. It’s important to God and it’s important to me. Many people are trapped by unjust situations which is something I don’t think should be ignored. **steps down from soap box**



The course lasts six months, so if I don’t see you in the next week or so then I won’t see you till April (you may see that as a good thing - especially if you're Benjamin Holmes). The course finishes in March but I’ll probably hang about in New Zealand for a bit before coming home.


That’s all for now, I'm hoping to update every week. Feel free to email/comment any questions or whatever.


If you want more info/are a student with nothing better to do/bored check out www.ywam.org for general YWAM info and http://www.ywamauckland.org.nz/Justice%20DTS.html for info on the course I’m doing.

* this is how we spell on the streets bruv. Get to know.