Some down-home Xhosa cooking

Occasionally, when I am by myself, I will practice my South African "clicks." I was so close to having the "x" and the "c" sound down before I left. (I never could get the "q" sound).  But I did leave, and now I am probably practicing them wrong. Regardless, when I am sure no one will hear me I practice saying "Xhosa" and my friend "Nomcebo's" name.  (Nomcebo, I hope you read this :-) Sorry if that creeps you out).

Even though I am sure I am killing it (and not in the "awesome" way), I love the way it sounds. The "x" sound, in particularly, is my favorite. X. as in Xhosa.

I mentioned before that Joe and Anna Sawatzky (MMN workers in Mthatha) are in town. (I've been able to hang out with them a lot, which has been fantastic. Two years later and we're still debriefing. ha). Tonight, they invited me to come to Shalom Mennonite for the meal and their presentation. What was for supper? Traditional Xhosa food, whose names I cannot say (because they have clicks in them) and also that I cannot even begin to spell). Basically, what was on my plate was this: meat cooked with potatoes and carrots, beans, pumpkin, cabbage and an orange. All simple stuff and delicious in the way that reminded me of that tiny church room my teammates and I sat in the one Sunday we spent in Mthatha.


I came away from South Africa feeling a variety of crazed emotions. But tonight as I said good-bye to Joe and Anna and went home for the evening, my heart was filled with a lot of love for South Africa. So much time has gone by. Still, it is good to know that now, looking back on my Radical Journey time, love is often the emotion that now comes to the surface the most.

Praise God for that.

And for people like the Sawatzky, who are suddenly brought back into my life, if only for a few days.

and a meal full of food that my white, American tongue cannot begin to say.


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