I need to confess the real reason I came to Africa.

I just didn’t want to hear `The Heart Will Go On’ ever again. I am convinced that the reason for road rage in the United States was people hearing that song and deciding that violence was the only alternative.

You can imagine my joy for the past two weeks as I passed the music building and strains of that song reverberated through the cement. That song is annoying with professional production: imagine sixth graders playing it.

Well, tonight they did play it at the music concert. And they didn’t play the song. They grabbed it, wrestled it to the floor and gnawed on it like a piece of raw meat. Nan says I am overreacting and that it was cute, but she isn’t the driving teacher.

I have so many surreal moments in Africa I am always surprised that I don’t wake up in America and loudly proclaim `Never anchovies and onions before bed again!’ This weeks was due to our good friend and neighbor back home who managed to get some of our CD’s out here in the last shipment of toys. We only brought 24 CDs out, and you can’t quite imagine how sick we are of all of them. He managed to get a dozen of them in one of the boxes.

On Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings, the entire dorm eats here. Nan is in charge to supervising cooking, and I am in charge of clean up. One of the CDs was an Alan Jackson CD, and he is a country singer in the states with a song called `Gone Country.’ This week, while we were washing dishes, we put on that CD, and all the Korean guys sang along with the refrain:

Gone country
Look at them boots
Gone country
New kinda look
Gone Country!!!

Listening to 4 Koreans sing Gone Country at the top of their lungs in Africa is one of those surreal moments.

But as we speak, another surreal moment is occurring. We are watching the Super Bowl tape tonight, and there is something really odd watching it in March. Besides the time factor, all the adults here have been putting their predictions in the pool for the NCAA.

You have to understand I love the NCAA with all my heart. Every year in the states, I read everything I can on it, watch as many of the games that I can, and place my predictions in with great confidence.

And lose in the first round. This year, as I made my predictions for the pool, I realized I had not seen one game or read one article about the NCAA. It did not stop me from being passionate about my picks, nor did it stop anyone else from loudly disagreeing with everyone else. And no one here has seen a game this season. It is a guy thing, perhaps the ultimate guy thing.

Perhaps the most humiliating thing to occur to me is that I am currently ranked second (against 44 others) in my predictions of the NCAA. I do better when I don’t know nothing, which probably could be a song for Alan Jackson someday.

Speaking of basketball, the season ended and I was undefeated against the other three coaches here at RVA. Because of that, we got to pick an all star team and play against two other schools. The first team came it, and several members of their 7th grade squad appeared to be in the need for a shave. It looked like several came holding car keys, and the game was not pretty: we lost 29-6. And I tried everything, and every combination of players, but they were just too much for us.

But we got another opportunity on Wednesday. I am the only coach who has both boys and girls on his team because 1. I believe in equal opportunity and 2. Sixth grade girls are a foot taller than sixth grade boys. We started the game, and while the other team still had the height advantage, we were playing great. We were playing so great that at the half, we were winning 20-0 and I had played every player.

The second half was the antithesis of what a coach should do. I thought: he can’t dribble, she can’t pass and he won’t shoot; put them in together. And they would dribble, pass and score. I looked like I was running the score on them, and started saying things like `Let’s that it easy out there!’ I groaned when we rebounded, and when the other team finally scored, I yelled the loudest. We won 35-2, and I am retiring. It won’t get any better.

I have taught a Sunday school this term for 8th and 9th graders, and it has been a challenge to me. It is somehow comforting that even teens in Africa grow sullen and self absorbed. How do you reach past that has been my question, and I haven’t had a good answer.

But today, on the last Sunday school of the term, I brought them down to the hospital. There are several children with hydro-cephaly, which is an illness that can cause a baby’s head to be three times its normal size. It is one of the hardest things to look at that I have seen since I have been here in Africa. The week before we went, I told the class to read this Scripture:

Seek first the Kingdom of God
And the wealth of His righteousness
For wherever your treasure lies
There will you find your heart.

My class played well with the children, and enjoyed the experience. Two of them were crying at the end, and when I asked why, one of them said `I think I found my heart.’

There are good tears, you know.

YP

PS. This is a picture of JT trying to look like a Masai warrior.