A Gringo's Guide to Hispanic Food

A Gringo's Guide to Hispanic Food

By: David Harris

So you want to know the story? Well, it will take some time but please, have a nice, cool cerveza and I will tell you while we wait for our food. I was born in Laredo, Texas. My father was in the Air Force but didn't move around as much as other families. We moved several hours north to San Angelo when I was five. If it isn't obvious enough, I'm a gringo born to two gringo parents - not a shred of Mexican or any other Hispanic blood in me. However, my mother's best friend was a Mexican woman who would often bring over authentic Mexican dishes to our family on a Saturday night, or on Sunday after church. Her sons were my two best friends, and we grew up together playing cowboys and indians and soldiers in the Texas dirt. They would often speak Spanish to their mother, but they didn't like it and I almost never heard them speak it anywhere else. Sometimes I felt like they were a little ashamed of it, maybe feeling less American because of their family roots. Either way, I didn't really end up learning much in the way of Spanish as a kid, but I did learn to love Mexican food - not Taco Bell or El Pollo Loco, but the truly Mexican dishes like flautas and tamales. With one exception. When I was 11 years old I was served menudo. If you aren't familiar with this dish it's basically a glorified tripe soup. The base is the inner lining of the stomach of a cow. Even with my Mexican comida  awareness, I couldn't do menudo. I politely excused myself and vomited profusely. Sorry! I know that wasn't a pretty picture, but it's one of the only things in the world of Mexican food I didn't like immediately. I eventually developed a taste for it, but it was a long fought battle. Nevertheless, I developed a sort of pride around my love of “true” Mexican food. I saw myself as superior to my peers. After church on Sunday when my friends and I would go out to lunch, I was always trying to make my scoffing attitude toward the suggestion of going to Moe’s or Chipotle as evident as possible, then suggesting we go to a “real” Mexican restaurant where we could get “authentic” Mexican food like carnitas and frijoles over arroz.  

     Following my high school graduation I took some classes from Angelo State University. I didn’t really like the college atmosphere - it wasn’t quite adventurous for me, so I decided to take a road trip after my second trip with my two Mexican-American friends. We drove deep down into Mexico and experienced the wide breadth of culture and comida. I also got to work quite a bit on my Spanish! I was nearly fluent by the time we returned to Texas (or at least I felt like it). What an experience or a young person to have! What an asset to the rest of their life! Ok, I’m getting a little off track here, sorry. Anyway, after hanging out on the beaches, flirting with muchas senoritas at different cantinas and climbing some of the highest peaks in the country, we returned to Texas. I ended up joining the Air Force and was stationed in El Paso. I made some great friends, one in particular, a beautiful young Mexican-American girl named Natalia. We met at the church I was attending there. The first time I saw her I nearly choked on my own saliva. I guess I’ve never been that good at talking to girls, at least not ones as beautiful as she looked that night. Anyway, I went up to her hoping to impress her. Hola Senorita, Como Estas? She gave me a slightly offended look. “I don’t really speak much Spanish. Sorry.” she said. I felt incredibly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m just really into Mexican culture and stuff.” I said awkwardly. She still wasn’t impressed. “Ok, I should probably go now.” I started to walk away but she stopped me. “Well, how would you like to come over to my parents. I’m sure they would be excited to meet a gringo who speaks more Spanish than their own daughter. I’m already having several people over.” I went without any hesitation. I’m not sure if I was more excited at the prospect of being in a room with the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in my life, or going somewhere where I might get some authentic Mexican cuisine made by actual Mexicans (it  goes without saying that the “Mexican” food in the Air Force is about as Mexican as an Italian on vacation in Puerto Rico). Upon introduction to her padres, I made it my goal to impress them as much as possible, hoping it would somehow rub off on their daughter. I tried the same greeting on them I had on her. It worked much better (I’d always been better with the parents than with the object of my affections). They were impressed! Hola! Habla Espanol! O! Bueno, bueno! Quiera a vecas comida? They asked if I wanted some dinner. I responded in the affirmative. Obviously I made my love of “true” Mexican food as evident as possible. I told them how much I loved menudo and flautas. They were eating it up. “It’s a shame, Natalia doesn’t speak as good Spanish as you do! She also doesn’t know how to cook our traditional dishes! Shame.” Natalia glared at me. I told them that I was an aspiring, amature chef, trying to learn how to make my favorite Mexican dishes. Needless to say, Natalia’s parents liked me a lot more than Natalia at first.

    I don’t know what’s more surprising, that Natalia eventually fell for me, or that she ended up attending culinary school and learned to make the Mexican dishes I loved so much better than I could have ever dreamed of. She was attending school in Austin, but whenever she was on break she would come back to El Paso and we would spend weekends making the dishes I loved so much with her mother and other relatives. I became very much part of the family, and my love of authentic Mexican food was surpassed for how I felt about Natalia. My contract with the Air Force was up just around the time Natalia graduated from culinary school. We were engaged that summer and got married in October. For me there was never any question about what we would do in our post-military/school lives - open an “authentic” Mexican restaurant. We moved to San Angelo where my father had purchased a place for us to get started in with me eventually buying the place from him once we met some success. I insisted we call the place “Natalia’s”, though my wife wasn’t all that happy with naming a Mexican restaurant after her before knowing if it would be successful. Luckily, Natalia’s was a hit in San Angelo, especially among the college crowd, as it was on the same street as San Angelo State. They loved the idea of eating “authentic” Mexican cuisine, maybe sharing somewhat in the superiority complex toward “other gringos” that plagued me. I took special pleasure in introducing guests to menudo, as well as our completely house made tortillas.

    Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I know you didn’t ask for all this backstory, I’ll get to the point. A few years ago Natalia and I went on another trip deep into Mexico to get some culinary inspiration, leaving my recently retired parents to run the restaurant. After about a month on the road, getting some magnificent ideas from food joints all over Mexico, my lovely wife had an idea. Why don’t we travel to some other Hispanic countries to get some more diverse inspiration. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, as I had a very one, Mexican track mind. We went to several different countries in South and Central America, as well as the Caribbean, gaining some great insight into other Hispanic food traditions. However, the most important of all these extra trips was the first. We flew to the Dominican Republic. My culinary and Hispanic obsessed world was shaken very quickly upon arriving.

    After getting into the terminal, Natalia wanted to go to the washroom to freshen up and then call her parents. Knowing how long that usually takes, I made a beeline for a small cafe inside the airport to get a coke and maybe a quick snack, already considering any opportunity for culinary inspiration that might present itself. I sat down at the bar and asked for a coke and some fritas de maiz con salsa. The server looked confused. He said that they didn’t have any of those, but he could give me some plantanitos. I looked at him puzzledly. I asked what they were, realizing two things: 1- Each of these Hispanic countries had their own distinct cuisine that completely varied from Mexican food, and 2- I had almost no knowledge of Dominican food. He explained in a very different Spanish dialect that plantanitos were chips from the plantain - a banana like, but more savory, fruit. I asked if they served arroz con frijoles. He almost looked offended. “Senor, you’re in the Dominican Republic now, we don’t eat frijoles, we eat habicheuelas. I was confused, and the confusion didn’t end there.

    We left the airport and started visiting different restaurants. I learned a lot over those next few days. For instance, sal cocho is a savory and delicious stew served with rice, or bacolao is a cod-fish based dish that can be served as a cold salad or hot over rice. I had no knowledge of the differences between Hispanic cuisines! I enjoyed my time there so much I’ve returned 3 times already to learn more and to make more contacts. Natalia likewise was impressed by the flavors we came across in the Dominican Republic. We traveled next to Chile and to several over adjacent countries. We also visited Spain a few months later to get an idea of where some of the original flavors of Hispanic countries came from.

   And that my friend, is my story. That’s how how Texas got its first Hispanic fusion restaurant chain, employing cooks from almost every single Hispanic country, and how a gringo learned that his pride in knowing Hispanic cuisine was misplaced! Sorry I’m so long winded, but look, our food is here, here comes Natalia! This dish is menudo, I wouldn’t suggest diving right into it. Try a flauta first, they are great with the fried plantains. Oh, and make sure you try the asado, it’s a Argentinian styled grilling. Oh, don’t forget the…….

David harris

May 2015

I was looking at fightthenewdrug.org and some of their very informative videos on what pornography does to the mind (how it rewires it and what not). Some of the things I heard I found extremely disturbing - we are a culture addicted to this drug. Whether or not you have or are struggling with viewing pornography, as Christians we should be the biggest in opposition to the spread and distribution of this drug - it's killing our society and the church and we can't be silent about it. I penned this reflecting on the the disease and cure:

I Hate Porn by David Harris
I hate porn cause it sucks you dry
It kills your ambition like a filthy lie
It promises comfort, peace and a high
But it leaves you as dead as a suicide
I hate what it's doing to young people's lives
I hate how it destroys husbands and wives
I hate how so few will just come clean
And raise their sword at the evil machine
But most of all I hate its author
The Devil who presents us this bogus offer
That happiness is found in ourselves indulging
To only find guilt and pain unfolding

But I love Christ, who's great than porn
Who redeemed His own through pain and scorn
Who offers a path with actual peace
Who gives from filth an awsome release
Who won't leave or forsake, even when we fall
For He shows us His love in His gospel call
That faith and forgiveness can completely renew
A life you think that porn has ruined

Spilled for You - Poem

I was substitute teaching on Monday and ended up waiting around for awhile because I only had two periods, so I penned this while waiting, meditating on subjects like guilt, remorse, faith and grace. Hope it blesses you!

Self justified in evil deeds
Ignorant of others' needs
So often this is who I've been
A man who sinful passion feeds
My past cries out:
"Justice be done!"
"Let Hell consume this wicked son!"
This voice comes not from up above
Not from the courts of Heaven's love
But from the wretched Devil's mouth
To fill me up with fear and doubt
Regret is my unwanted friend
He tells me I should make an end
"For you sufficient grace is lacking"
"Take your life, no more contend"
"For what is life but just missed chances"
"chances gone and and lost romances"
These thoughts not from wisdom's advice
but foolishness and futile vice
The only way to conquer this:
Focus on His promises.
"My grace, sufficient for you, believe!"
"For peace and rest you have received"
"Judgment no more awaits your soul"
"For My great love has made you whole"
"You're not defined by things gone through"
"for My own blood was spilled for you"

Why I love Jesus, but hate relgion: An argument over the definition of a word?

Ok. So I've seen Jefferson Bethke's video literally EVERYWHERE. Not only has it attracted a healthy amount of praise, but it's also seeing a firestorm of critique and criticism, especially coming from catholic, reformed, and muslim circles. When I first saw the video I thought I understood what Jefferson was trying to get across, but now I'm really not so sure, so I'm going to start by going over what I really don't understand. Before I do that however, I'd like to just affirm my respect and admiration for Jefferson Bethke. He may not be Lecrae, but the man has rhyme and rhythm! He seems to be very theologically sound and genuinely love Christ and is seeking to make His name known. His "Sexual Healing" video was great, and even greater was his response to "Love Wins" by Rob Bell. Good good stuff.
     Let's get to his current piece of art though. The first thing I don't understand is his choice of WHERE he made the video. I feel like so much would make more sense if he was actually standing outside a church building. But he's not. It looks like he's standing outside a university or government building. That is confusion point No. 1. It's confusing because throughout the video I simply never quite get WHO exactly he's talking to. At first glance I would say it's obviously the "religious". But we're faced with a problem. What is religion? And that's where the heart of this strange argument over the definition of a word seems to be.
     "What if I told you Jesus came to abolish relgion.". Ok. Define religion please. Nope. Instead he continues with "What if I told you voting Republican wasn't really his mission?" This confuses me. So he's talking to Republicans? Don't get me wrong, I believe he's quite correct! Jesus would want us to vote for those who have integrity and believe in the biblical principles set down for government, no matter what their particular political affiliation happens to be. But I still don't understand what it has to do with Jesus being ">religion".
     He asks another question toward the beginning of his rhyme, this one I believe I have an answer for: "I mean if religion is so great, why has it started so many wars?" The answer I believe can be found in Matthew chapter 10: "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household." I think that may be why religion has started so many wars.
      Jefferson goes on. He doesn't say anything heretical in the least, (in fact I especially like when he says: "He looked down and said 'I want that man!'")  but at the same time, we're left without a definition for religion. I've raised this objection to several people and the response has been this: words change meaning. So really what we're arguing about is not whether or not as Christians, we want to change the definition of religion. I would argue NO, and for this reason: Changing the definition of a word adds to deconstruction and confusion in a language. It WILL happen I know, but words have meaning, and trying to change a definition only causes confusion. In this context, while I know and understand the good intention behind: "it's not a RELIGION it's a RELATIONSHIP", this statement generally only adds confusion to an unbelieving mind. I would argue the "nonreligious" unbeliever doesn't need to understand that Christianity is not a religion, but needs to understand in their unbelieving state they are indeed devoutly religious- worshiping themselves. Furthermore, the statement (religion not a relationship) is not found in the Bible- instead we find a description of what James calls TRUE religion (Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.- James 1:27).
    It's important to remember that this is a discussion within the body of believers, and there's no reason to get bent out of shape or to emotionally invested in the argument (2 Timothy 2:14  Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers.).

Break-In

I'm standing in the kitchen of the Raley family with the team that has just driven up to Pietersburg from the coast (Port Elizabeth). Enjoying a steaming cup of coffee on the chilly winter night, my pocket suddenly vibrates. I pull my phone from my coat pocket: ONE NEW MESSAGE. I press the view button. In bold type the SMS (txt mssg) says one word: BURGLARY. (The house I'd been watching sends an SMS to several people if the house alarm goes off). My mouth emits one sentence: "Gabriel's house has been broken into", and I made a speedy b-line for the door. My friend Nathan (who is also on the SMS system) yells, "you want me to come with?". Angrily thinking of my possessions sitting in the house several K's down the road being stolen, I reply "whatever!".
   I hit nearly 140 Km/H on the way- down the freeway, down several dusty back roads, and finally down the long road in the veld (bush) to Gabriel and Nikki Pretoria's house. I pulled up to the outer gate- protected by a lock and 9000V of electricity pulsating through the wires attached to it. I could see the back gate to the house had been forced open. I speedily unlock the gate and run to the back entrance to the house. It's dark inside. I almost proceed inside, but then remember that an ambush could mean a quick death, a debilitating injury, or a mortal wound. I run around the side of the house and grab a wooden stick- my weapon of choice. I slowly peer around the corners as I enter the house. The alarm sounds. I start turning on lights. There's absolutely nothing missing. Praise God
     By the time I get outside to find out where the would-be thieves cut into the wire, Nathan has arrived. We examine the fence and find where they cut in, and also the windows they broke checking to see if anyone was home. Several other arrive after a little time to start the repairs. We clean up the broken glass, replace a lock, and rewire the fence. After some time, they leave, and I'm left alone. It's late. I take a shower, drink some coke. I turn ON the lights, and go to bed. The dogs bark all night. Eish.
Excitement. In South Africa.

Sermon Notes: Mchipisi Baptist Church, May 22nd 2011

 PICTURES: The first is of Pastor Kenneth and his wife Emma. The 2nd is a map of Limpopo where the red is our location (or near it). It is the farthest north-eastern part of the country.

Sermon Notes: (NOTE: this is an exact copy of my hand-written manuscript)

Sermon, May 22^nd, 2011

Romans 8:28

1^st-testimony, Psalm 19:7, Romans 10:10

Review, Roman’s Purpose

“Paul’s Gospel Book”

Chapter 1- Paul identifies himself as a slave to Christ Jesus, specifically set apart for the gospel of Christ Jesus. He spends the 1^st of ½ of chapter 1 exalting the glorious gospel of Christ Jesus, and the 1nd ½ he speaks of the terrible consequences of rejecting Christ Jesus. Chapter 2 and 3, Paul speaks of God’s righteous standard, and how no one has ever lived up to it, and being Jewish doesn’t even help! You must have Christ Jesus.

Continued… (Page two)

In chap. 4, Paul speaks of Moses and how he as well was justified by faith. Chapters 5 and 6, Paul speaks of what justification brings about. Some of these things are Peace with God, escaping the wrath of Almighty God, and being dead to sin and alive to God. Chapter 7 talks of something we are all familiar with. The conflict that we have when we belong to Christ Jesus. Our struggle is between our new nature which we receive when we are born again, and our fleshly body, that we are abound to until we leave this earth.  He says “Oh wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death!” (Something I’ve oft thought after I’ve sinned)

Continued… (Page three)

Now we come to Chap. 8. Verse 1-4 (read)

The Gospel of Christ Jesus here is clearly presented once again. We cannot live up to God’s standard. Remember what Jesus said: (adultery, murder, you only have to think the thoughts) Paul speaks through the next few verses about the difference between setting the mind on the flesh , and setting the mind on the spirit, but God is able to give life in Christ to those in the flesh. It is the Spirit of God that testifies that we are “children of God!” (Personal testimony example: I don’t have a date for when I was saved, but this is my assurance) (Read verses 16-17). Suffering?! Wait a moment! No one told me anything about suffering! I thought I was going to get money, good health, and good things. What is this suffering?!

Continued… (Page four)

But there it is! But let’s think. What were Paul’s sufferings? He was beaten more than once, he was bitten by a snake on the island of Malta, and he was sought out by many to be killed. Jesus said in His sermon on the mountain “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness”. (move on) Verse 19 tells us Paul’s attitude toward suffering for Christ Jesus. (read verse 18) (exposit) In verses 19-28, Paul speaks of how not only us, but ALL of creation is anxious waiting for God’s restoration. We look forward to when we be rid of these earthy bodies! When no longer we will get sick or hurt. However, we do not know when these things will be, so we must hope.

Continued… (Page five)

Verse 26 and 27 give us another great hope (read verse) (exposit)

Before we read verse 28, I’d like to look at a verse in the Hebrew Scriptures. Deuteronomy 29:29-(read) how often do we wonder “what is the will of God?” And here it is! Obey His law, practice His commandments. But there is something else here. Something that is a little scary. What are the “secret things?” We don’t know. But we find our comfort here in verse 28 of Romans 8. (read verse) This verse has been on my mind since yesterday (speak about Mozambique). This verse immediately came to my mind as we left Pafuri yesterday. I had to choose whether I was to believe God in what He says here, or to believe the lies of the deceiver.

Continued… (Page six)

Let’s go back to the verse: “and we know that God causes all things to work for good” Let’s stop there; Is this good God’s good, or our good? If we belong to Christ Jesus, then they are the same- but we may not always see it that way. The Greek word here is agathos- it means “benefit”. So we see that God works all things for our spiritual benefit. A question remains however: Who does God work things together for? We have 2 answers: 1. Those who love God. The Greek word here for love is agape- a love of sacrifice; one that will give up everything for Christ Jesus. Hallelujah (NOTE: This was a common interjection that is replied with “Amen”). Phillipians 3:8 (read) (exposit)

Continued… (Page seven)

As followers of Christ Jesus, we must be willing to give up anything for Him. (read Luke 9:23-25) (exposit) by this we know we love God! If we keep His commandments, and we will give our everything.

  In Romans 8:28, we also see that those who love God are also those who are “called according to His purpose”. All throughout the scriptures we see God’s calling. In Galatians Paul speaks of God as Him who set him apart “before His birth” and called him by “His Grace”. The book of 1 Corinthians says that “god is faithful, by whom you were called into fellowship of His Son Christ Jesus”, Halleluiah.

Continued… (Page eight)

These words can give us great comfort! That if we are called by God into Salvation through Christ Jesus His Son, then we will love Him, and He will work everything in our lives to our heavenly benefit. While it is a wonderful truth, it can still be hard to understand while we are experiencing trials. I would like to give one example from my own life (tell Danny’s story).

You see! Even when things seem to be terrible, God still uses them, no matter what they may be! Hallelujah! I praise God for His caring for His saints, no matter what!

-Mchipisi Baptist Church (David S. Harris), May 22^nd, 2011

The Continuing Adventures of Kobus Viljoon

Hey! Hey! You guys! The roof is coming in! Come quick!

I hear the voice of 9 year old Michael Plodinec yelling across the house. It’s early April in Polokwane South Africa and a huge storm is blowing across Limpopo- perhaps one of the most intense I’ve seen.  I run into the family room. Water pours down from the ceiling onto the family piano and all over the floor. Quickly the piano is moved and containers are placed to catch the dripping water. The three of us (Timothy, Daniel, and I) stand looking at the ceiling. Almost concurrently we come to a realization- when the rain is past; we won’t be able to see where the water is flowing into the roof. In an instant the three of us strip off our shirts and run outside into the storm. I run to the other side of the house and climb up on the garage to get on the roof. I’ve been outside about 10 seconds, and any previous dryness on my person has now long been saturated. I run across the roof carefully- making sure I have sure footing on each step. A flash of light and cracking sound burst almost concurrently. I instantly look for cover- there isn’t any up on a roof, so I continue on. I arrive to the place on the roof where the rain is leaking in.

“I don’t see anything!” I yell above the cracking thunder and deafening sound of the pouring rain.

“It’s should be right there!” Timothy yells back.

I can’t find anything. I climb over to the lapa and slide down. I step inside the door- shivering. TIA (This Is Africa) I think.

As I write this I’ve been on this continent for 83 days-in 83 days you can figure out if you love or hate somewhere.

I love it. 

Is it the people? The land? The activity? I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s just the feeling one gets when walking down the road with the African sunset in the distance- and thinking (as a Yankee), “I live in AFRICA.” (It may just be the lower price of meat actually…).

As previously mentioned, people are the same everywhere- they lie, cheat, steal, murder, etc, etc. More importantly, most of them stand condemned before a righteous, just, and holy God. However, as stated by some of the missionaries, there IS a difference between talking to a person in the states who considers themselves a “good” person, and talking to a Shangaan who may or may not have ever even heard the name of Christ Jesus. That is the purpose of missions. To make His name known among the nations- and not only to make His name known, but His Word as well through the discipleship of church leaders.

It’s been almost a month since my last update. Although I’ve been almost constantly busy the last few weeks, I’ve found an hour, so here goes:

 I must begin by telling of a sin of mine.

The weekend after my second Mozambique trip went quickly- very quickly. Saturday was “Golf Day”- the annual fundraiser for Samaria Mission. I caddied for Gabriel Pretorias (officially my mentor while I’m here). He complained about the game (the game of golf in general). I laughed mostly. I found two lizards on the course and stuck them on top of my hat- one eventually fell off, but the other stayed on the whole day. At the end of day I gave them away to John Pretorias- a young Afrikaans boy. He promised to take good care of “dinosaur” as he named it.

  

   Ok, now to my sin. Sunday went by quickly- I ended up at the Beaklys house that night. A Peace Corps worker who stays with the Beaklys on weekends was making plans that night to pick up her friend from the airport in Johannesburg the next day. She planned to do so utilizing taxis and busses and overnight backpackers. Evan Smith (a good friend of mine who lives with the Beaklys) and I came up with an idea. “Why don’t we just drive you down to Jo’burg, we’ll overnight with a family the Beaklys know, and come back on Tuesday?” Then we got another idea. What if we created Afrikaaner personas and introduced ourselves to our “friend’s friend” as such? We started to scheme.

  

     In the morning the plans were made final. We would leave at 1 PM and pick up our new friend from the airport at 5. I used the morning to get comfortable with driving on the “wrong side” of the road. At 1 we were off. We spent the ride down listening to Owl City (after Hot Air Balloon being the song we could most agree on as a group) and talking through our testimonies of faith in Christ Jesus. We arrived at about 4:30 and went to Subway in the airport- the only one we knew of in South Africa. While the choices were limited, we were nevertheless grateful and settled for what we got (we even took pictures of our sandwiches). We went back downstairs and looked for our new friend. In about 15 minutes time she walked out of the terminal. We watched as two friends were reunited. A hand was extended to me. “Hello, I am Kobus, welcome to South Africa” I said. Evan offered his hand: “Johan”, he introduced himself as. We took her bags and we all walked toward the door. Somehow we managed to keep our Johan/Kobus personas intact for about a half hour using lousy white South African accents, pretend Afrikaans gibberish, and by acting like we knew what we were talking about.  After Kobus was asked: “Are Johannesburg and Pretoria one city or two?” he burst out in awkward laughter- along with the other two individuals who were in on the practical joke. Thus went a long explanation of our deceitful crime- all the way to Pretoria. We overnighted in Pretoria with the Viljoons- a delightful Afrikaans pastors’ family. We watched “Last of the Mohicans” that night at their house. It had been a long time since I had seen the film. After the depressing end, the credits started to roll and I made a profound comment:  “Bummer”. Thus became the new “inside joke”.
 

   

   The rest of the week was quite nice. Wednesday and Thursday I worked at the mission farm with both Joseph and William. Friday myself and several friends traveled east to Hanaertsburg and Debingeni falls. It was absolutely gorgeous. The water was cool and clear, and the scenery was spectacular (www.youtube.com/davidthebravid for a video).

   The same day, William Vaughn called me at 8:30. “Listen David, the family and I are going out of town for a week; would you want to watch the place?” I instantly agreed. I had one full week as a “bachelor”. My own house, car, and dog. While it got a tad old at times, it was so nice to have some alone and quiet study/reading/meditating time. The car I was entrusted with was a Nissan from the early 90s… and the brakes stopped working midweek. I am now quite good at downshifting and using a parking brake to stop myself.
On Sunday, Johan Pretorias greeted me at church. He asked if I remembered the lizard that I had given to his son. I affirmed. He then proceeded to tell me how he had looked into it's species- turned out it was an endangered species that kept a 22,000 rand fine for "removing from its environment". Thank goodness he had released it.  

     The past two weeks have been spent doing various maintenances at the Mission Farm- checking camping equipment and this week working on trucks.

I’ve learned much. I have yet much to learn.