Routines start and local culture explored


The Sun rose with great beauty as the community gathered in the chapel for morning prayers. 
Prayers of the office were said, along with the daily readings and also a special novena for Pulane profession. 
On completion of prayers we jumped into the car and head straight to Forest Hill for mass. Forest Hill is where the passionist priest have a retreat center, every morning we celebrate mass with them, in a very traditional church. It is circle structure made from stone and traditional grass roof. Wooden beams inside are exposed, the heat radiates around the church and holds from the previous day. There is a sense of intimacy and togetherness as we gather around the table altar which is a stone, instantly connecting with mother earth. Standing before the altar as mass is spoken it brings about remembering that the Lord created all things and we are made from dust - what an almighty Father of love and beauty we have. 
After Mass we join in union with the priest for breakfast - toast and bush tea! Standing around a table sharing in stories of when other Sisters visited, learning a little about each other. Many laughs full the air with joy that one can only help but catch and savior the taste. Following this we stood in the courtyard to defrost a little in the sun. Hard to believe that even in Africa the temp drops, still has nothing on New Zealand though. 
The sunshine follows us as we return home for coffee all the way from Vietnam and chocolate, which fast became a morning routine. 



Botshelo invited to show me Botswana craft, where a collection of traditional crafts from smaller villages, gathered today to retail. Their main craft is weaving, a small bit of wood work and bead work. Mostly done with resources around them, using what is in their environment to enable them to create something to sell in return to help their families. 


    

I have to admit that this country is driven in terms of self employment. There are little stalls on the side of the roads, car washes, water-less car washes, driving schools, tuck shops, clothes shops, maize stall and so forth. What we would term 'pop up shops' were on the side of the roads. If there was something you had to sell, simply pull up and away you go. They could teach our unemployed a thing or two about creative employment that is for sure!!

  This is a rather advanced car wash!
 A random 'tuck' shop, again very advanced up market.

 This is a driving school! 



In a land where water is precious, one comes to value it so much. Kiwi camping is a great gift that gave me a heads up for mastering the art of washing my hair with very little and also having a camping bath with a bucket or two of water. After traveling and traveling in the dusty environment, water and soap is refreshing to the skin. This skill carried me through the entire journey until I reached South Africa where I indulged in not one, but two hot ten minute showers which left my body and soul feel cleanse I have to admit. 


Before the afternoon came to a close, I got to meet Sr Angela, after hearing so much about her I was delighted to finally get to meet her. Straight away could tell she had a gentle soul, a women of great strength and passion. 
We gathered ourselves and head back to the airport to welcome Sr Therese. 
For Sr Therese, I sense that it was like she was returning home rather than visiting. She spent 36 years in a small village in Botswana doing incredible work. (there is meant to be a video which I will try source, hopefully on you tube, that was recorded while Sr Therese was present for the 50th celebration Botswana) 

While at the airport we meet some Nazareth Sisters, what a small world we live when paths are crossed, talked for a while before returning home for a cuppa. The afternoon sun dim as conversation flow with the all important planning of the profession that was about to happen in the coming days. 

By the time Sr Angela was ready to depart she discovered her car would not start, which lead to a calling a mechanic to arrive to help. Listening to the conversations that took place, it was a skill in communication to explain where we lived. Block eight was not enough, landmarks expressed, navigation through the dusty paths lead to the safe arrival and departure. How we take street signs, mailboxes and suburbs for granted. 


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