outfit repeater

It was my last first day today. Going back to school, for the beginning of my last semester, was real. I haven't been back to that place, as in Maq uni, since November; nearly 10 months. I fluctuated between actually being quite excited (the names of my classes at least sound really exciting), and being filled to the brim with dread. 

I just didn't want to do the whole thing, the new, the meeting people, the unknown, the work load, the books. The 'lets go around the room and introduce each other' thing. The travelling on the train, the waiting for class, the normality of it all. I'm uncomofrtable when life gets comfortable and being here, is certainly that - entirely and in every way familiar. I hadn't even stepped on campus yet and I had to call IT Help. They put me on hold and played piano music. As I said, way too familiar. Like an old jumper, holes and smells and all; comfortable. Because I'm into bad analogies, I'm putting on another semester; an outfit repeater.

in denial about where I go to school now.

Something I really enjoyed in Africa - as I did also in both East Timor and Papua New Guinea - is the opportunity to completely neglect what I look like. 

Africa.
with the (incredible) house mates.
no makeup. no care.

Any routine I have at home, from doing my hair, to even wearing deodorant, gladly goes out of the window for me. I love not having to worry, or think about the length of my eyelashes, or the size of my jeans. I enjoy throwing on comfortable anything's and parading around with braids, unkempt.

butt out.
braids be crazy.

 I didn't feel beautiful and honestly vomited a little bit in my mouth anytime I faced a mirror, but that all went by the wayside as I invested that care, and time, into other things. 

attractive?
how about beauty in relationship investment.

Being present, serving others, learning, loving, cooking, talking and investing in the moment. I loved that. I had no one to impress but my Audience of One. There's such freedom in that. And as I rotated my four skirts for four weeks (one of which ended up being completely see-through, found that out the hard way), I couldn't help but fall in love with the lifestyle. Africa was all out freedom seeking in outfit repeating.

the birds nest.

I live in Australia, where for the most part - the sky is blue, the days are hot and the sun is always plentiful. I've never used a dryer in my life, and so when moving to Seattle and into the dorms, with no balcony let alone sunshine, I had something else coming. And in many ways I learnt to love the thing. Taking clothes out of the dryer and putting them straight on, or in my case - dumping them in a pile on my bed and laying on top of them until they went cold, is one of life's little greatnesses. It's wonderful.

 But, being Australian and thus completely un-educated, I just washed all my things that way. That's right, even my 100% cotton things, and all other else. Now, I wasn't prepared for Seattle in the first place - with no long pants, or sweat shirts - but within my first wash, I just became scandalous. My short shorts were shorter shorts, my tee shirts were mid-rifs and my tank tops were semi-long bra's.

prime example.
this "dress" used to be just above the knee.
no longer.

Part of this unfortunate incident was me shrinking my one and only Orange HOPE campaign tee-shirt, one which - not surprisingly - I wear on a very regular basis. 

taking selfies in the tee.

Any speaking engagement, gig, fundraising event, photo opportunity or barely related occasion, and I'm there in it. Wearing my just a little too small and just a little bit tight, Orange HOPE tee.

told you.

And I have a lot of little bit's coming up, and I'll be there at each of them. Busting it out, wearing it proud. It's going to look like, in all my photos, that I'm the world's worst outfit repeater. And I guess, by that standard, well yeah - I guess I really am. But you know what? My shruken little Orange HOPE tee represents a passion in my belly. A message in my heart. A longing within me to share, about Malawi. About Estere, and missions and HOPE for AIDS. About hope, love, goodness and forgiveness.

SIMWorld on Saturday.

If being an outfit repeater means I get to repeat, and repeat, and repeat this message, for months on end, to many a person, on many occasions, then what a privilege. A message of hope and love and value. Of purpose and tangible, beautiful, practical, messy care. Then I'm there. One outfit and all.

future success & primary school bests

Miss, can I go to the toilet?

Only if you resite the alphabet first.

ABCDEFGHIJKLNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

Almost, where’s the P?

It’s running down my leg.

Not going to lie, everytime I say or hear the term ‘P for Prevention’ I can’t help but think of this joke. This primary school joke. I used to think, say 12 years ago, this was the greatest thing ever. I’ve changed my mind, just a bit.

And on that completely irrelevant note, here is the last video of my little series. This one, if you haven’t guessed already, is about Prevention.

That was one of the greatest lessons I learnt from my time in Malawi; just how vital prevention is. It's the only solution, really. It's life saving - both now and forevermore. 

It’s not too hard to tell I have no experience editing videos, and have been drawing off only my self-taught lack of skills. So I apologise for the quality. I hope, despite that fact, they give you a little glimpse of HOPE for AIDS in Malawi, of life in that beautiful country, of the ministries, and of my heart for them. Prevention!

walking. sharing. talking. caring.

This time last week (time difference aside) I was sitting outside, on woven bamboo mats, in the middle of nowhere – Malawi. It was such a beautiful day, weather wise and people wise, as we ventured through the countryside to visit those in need. The animals were out, the kids were playing, people were singing – literally, and off we went, kid trail included, from home to home to home. It gave me a great appreciation of, and love for Home Based Care that day, perhaps more then any other.

And on the video producing theme, here’s one for HBC:

baby cries & big brown eyes

I’ve been home for almost three days. It’s weird; a strange mixture of being incredibly bizarre, and completely familiar. I’ve spent the time editing, catching up with friends, getting out of jury duty, preparing for school next week, working out and not getting any sleep.

I have grand plans for my piles and piles of photos and video footage, and here is my little OVC efforts. Adorable high-pitched orphan babies, and mis-matched music talents. Let me know what you think!

a little something something

What do I do with few resources and no video editing skills? Bust out my camera and imagination that’s what!

Here’s a little something something I’ve been working on.

Orange HOPE; a photo journey. 

unposted

Home. Can’t sleep. So here are some unposted beauties.

little hands being weighed at the day care centre.
checking for malnutrition.
hanging like it's nobodys business.

more day care babies.

those eyes!

from the car, whilst driving.
running kid in the glare.
love it.

Malawi sunset.
I'll miss!

don't let the face fool you.
she's all smiles!

poisonous bean.

yeah.

95% me
5% children
100% crinkly forehead.

not sure if you can see it too well.
but I call these "obama zombie" shirts.
super creepy/ great.

kids corner.

the middle.

besties.

again, through the car window.
clearly an aussie suporter.

stunning countryside!

hands of a health man.

baby foot!

boabab tree by sunset.
amaze.

lunch time!

peer educating hands.

wud up mama.

too cute.

some of my fan club.

delish.

miss you already Africa!

fly up the nose.

The idea of a calendar has been seeded as a fundraiser. I’m down. Interested?

a time not wasted

What have I learnt from one month in Malawi.

Flicking through the pages of my journal, and reflecting on each and every day, there is a lot that stands out. I can not believe I have been here four weeks. It’s very bizarre, it has been and passed so ridiculously quickly. I can not believe, that after four months, I am actually going home. That is a lot to take in. There is a lot waiting for me at home – my final semester of university, countless speaking engagements, responsibility, interviews, my family and friends. A job, hopefully. Big decisions, about next year, the future. It’s hard to process.

But for now, I'm here and I'm so thankful.

Africa 2012.

I’ve learnt not to question or think too much about what part of the animal I’m eating. Especially when it comes to goat. And on that note, I’ve learnt to eat with my hands. Even rice. I’ve learnt that when somebody offers you food, you say yes. And you are grateful.

When driving down a dirt road, if there are more pot holes then there is dirt, here is my one and simple tip: relax. Let your body flail and jiggle and wiggle and wobble. Trust me. I've learnt that resisting, or trying to brace yourself in any way is not only pointless, but exhausting. These roads are often long. Hours long.

I’ve learnt to say muli bwaji, and what to do in church – stand, read hymns phonetically, give my offering to the right basket, clap and clap, stand, sit and take a sneaky book to read. I’ve learnt to entertain myself, when sitting through hours of something – a sermon, a graduation, training – in a language I don’t understand. I’ve written a lot of letters.

I’ve learnt to light a gas stove. And cook by candlelight. I’ve learnt a firm “No!” when being hassled by street vendors, trying to sell me strawberries, or crafts, or quite bizarrely and everyday, USB’s.

I’ve learnt that in Malawi, children are often named after the circumstances in which they are born. I’ve met Problems, a Funny, a Happy and a Blessings. Rumour even has it, that a “Zero Deficit” exists. Laughing about cultural differences is sometimes all you have left.

I’ve learnt to wash my vegetables in ‘purple stuff’, and not to swallow water in the shower, or when brushing my teeth.

I’ve learnt to shake hands, hands, hands, hands, when you enter into a room. It’s not sufficient to say hello and how are you to a group, but to each and every individual.

I’ve learnt to accept the laughter and staring as I take my morning runs, and I’ve learnt to convert Australian dollars into US dollars, then into Malawian kwacha.

I’ve learnt to live in a relational culture. Where time and talking and material things, rather then tasks, define days and relationships. I’ve learnt to lower my expectations about ever starting ‘on time’. I’ve learnt to wait, a lesson in patience. Every. Single. Day.

I’ve learnt a lot about attitude outside of circumstance. That what you think, and how you feel – is really, nearly, always a choice.


I've learnt to appreciate coke in glass bottles, for 32cents.

I’ve learnt to accept the fact that wherever I go, kids will run and yell and scream “Azungu!”. And that’s okay. And an opportunity.

I’ve learnt that being a pastor here, is not a sole profession. Pastors are almost always either the head of many churches, or otherwise employed in full time work. It’s a labour of love. And pastors preach with passion. I’ve learnt to say “Amen” at the end of every enthusiastic “hallelujah!”. Hallelujah? Amen.

I’ve re-learnt, again, how truly and ridiculously blessed I am. Growing up where I have, with what I have, and who I was raised by, and with. No thanks could ever really be enough. I am so blessed, so, so, so blessed and on that note, the world is so skewed.

I've re-learnt the art of the squaty potty.

I’ve learnt what full time missions can look like. The commitment of relationship, the long term investment. And what that means for raising kids, and going home, and ministry.


I've learnt about the many faces and forms of HIV.

I’ve learnt a lot about my own culture, and views. About race, the world, religion, God, HIV, myself and others. It’s been a grand time of self analyses.

I’ve learnt that betting two weeks worth of washing up, and laundry, is a terrible idea. Being cocky and confident about that bet, is an even worse idea.

I’ve learnt that not everyone appreciates great indie films, and it’s been confirmed to me that no matter how hard I try to push it, Americans do not and will never appreciate the goodness that is vegemite.

I’ve learnt to tuck in my mosquito net nice and tight, and not to mistake mere geckos for mice in the walls.

I’ve learnt to love not looking in the mirror, or having to worry about what to wear. I’ve learnt to accept the fact that most probably, my feet will never be clean again.

I’ve learnt that songs without instruments are insanely beautiful, and clapping and dancing, when done properly – negates the need for either.

I’ve learnt that tee shirts and long skirts completely remove any motivation I have to shave (sorry Luke).

I learnt what it’s like to live in a country where the police are corrupt, and there is no emergency services.

From smiling, dancing, giggling, rolling in the dirt, making their own games up little children I have learnt to smile despite depravity, in spite of poverty. I’ve re-learnt the lesson of relationship, and community, and where happiness resides. 

I’ve learnt that having black skin gives you white teeth, and that missions, I believe, is most effective when conducted by people within their own nations.

I’ve learnt just how introverted I really am, and how people – chatty people, and talking, wear me out completely. I’ve learnt to be aware of that, and how rude it can appear. I’ve learnt I have a very angry ‘neutral face’, and people often think I’m mad. When I'm not, just thinking.

I’ve learnt that Gods use of availability trumps that of our abilities. And that I’m not always as available as I like to think I am.

I’ve learnt that God is real, again.

I’ve learnt that sharing and showing Gods love to people, is where the change starts.

I’ve learnt the importance of HIV prevention work. And long-term investment in HIV and AIDS programs. HIV will never be a quick fix. But it is possible, there is hope. I have seen it.

I’ve learnt to recognise maize in all its various forms, and I’ve learnt to like it.

I’ve learnt that I complain too much. And love too little. And don’t have enough enthusiasm for life. I know that God can change me.

There is so much need. People in the West don’t have enough time to just sit and think and be. We need, I think, more time. To just sit, and think, and be.

I’ve learnt that life is fragile. And I need to use mine well.

I’ve learnt that preparing Bible stories for orphans, now that’s where I come alive.

I've learnt that Jesus multiplied the bread and fish to feed the 5000 as a symbolic multiplication of Himself. Just as His provision was more then enough to feed the multitudes, so too is Jesus more then enough to save and ‘feed’ all, always. Jesus told His disciples (Mark 6:37) that they were to be the ones to give the people something to eat, and when they questioned how, the answer was of course Jesus. Jesus was, is, forever will be the answer. We are called to be fishers of men, whereby Jesus, my Jesus, is always the answer. I learnt about Jesus.

I learnt I’m no good at building card towers, or balancing three golf balls on top of one another. But, I am excellent at configuring New Zealand stacking sheep.

I learnt about church discipline, cultural cleansing practices, dating, marriage, polygamy, expectations, family planning and divorce in Malawi.

I questioned plenty, am I right because I’m white?

When singing, being loud and enthusiastic over-rides my lack of talent and pitch. Kids think I’m ridiculous, and that’s wonderful. I learnt that smiling is contagious!

I’ve learnt to recognise the difference in African facial features.

I’ve learnt that with the Big G, I can do this.  That I feel at home amongst orphans, on the floor. That missions is not always glorious. That I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so overwhelmingly blessed.

I’ve learnt how Gods grace exceeds necessity.

I’ve realised I am the worlds worst complainer when it comes to technology failing on me. It’s whinge city. I need to get over myself a bit.

There is no victory but in Christ Jesus. Always something to re-learn.

And, Gods noble purposes may appear sometimes in the worlds eyes as common use.

I don’t pray because I have to, I pray because I HAVE to. Revolutionary.

I’ve learnt that I am exceedingly selfish sometimes.

I learnt that the kids in the villages practice their writing outside, in the dirt. I learnt to write, outside and in the dirt.

I need and want to learn to drive a stick.

I learnt that knowing how to play 6 chords on the guitar takes you a surprisingly long way.

I learnt to love this season, to be present, to take responsibility, to process things through prayer, and to simply listen. To be available to learn. To sit on mats in the sun and hear people's stories. To shake hands with such hardship, and seek Christ as the answer to great need. 


Africa 2012. So thankful.