8.06.02- The lady at JFK Airport confiscated my scissors. I don't know why: I didn't have them in my carry-on. Plus, everyone thought my guitars were firearms. Anywho, 13 hours in a plane can drive someone crazy. I was unlucky enough to have been in the dreaded "middle seat". You might think to yourself, 13 hours--I'll just sleep, and I did...for like, an hour. It wasn't as bad as the 20 hour flight to the Philippines I'd taken two years ago [I got the middle seat then, too]. The plane food stunk, and the plane literally stunk, but at least they had those individual TV screens in front of me, so I could watch movies, and I did. It also gave me a chance to do some critical listening of the mixes from the new Clear Blue album we're planning on releasing soon, I also had my Petra and Benjamin Gate CD's with me. At one point in the night, we hit turbulence and I put my seatbelt on because I thought the roof of the plan was going to fly off [as if the seatbelt would help]. We landed in Johannesburg, and rushed to catch our flight to Durban, which I mistakenly and quite frequently referred to as Bourbon. It was another 1 1/2 hours to Durban, but it went quickly.
8.07.02- Well, Durban looked and felt like Florida in the Winter time. In fact, is was their Winter in South Africa. Our hotel was right on the beach of the Indian Ocean. The ocean was infested with sharks and the signs on the beach advised us not to swim, so I didn't. When we first got to the hotel, my dad tipped the bellhop 10 US Dollars, which is equivalent to 100 of their currency, Rand, and he was my dad's indentured servant while we were at the hotel. We went out to eat after we settled in, and we were informed by our guide, Jonathan, that SA was playing New Zealand in rugby that weekend. Apparently, those two nations are rugby rivals, and because of that, the hotels and restaurants were flooded with 7 foot-tall, three-hundred pound white guys with their heads shaved. The food wasn't all that good in Durban.
8.08.02- My body clock was all messed up, so I, and my roommate/uncle Skip, woke up at 5 and fought to go back to sleep, but it was of no avail. We had a gigantic breakfast courtesy of the Tropicana hotel, and then went to visit a Bible college which overlooked "the Valley of a Thousand Hills". It was such a great view, and I listened very carefully, and I heard some music coming from a tent in the valley below and I thought it was the natives singing something, but upon further listening, I realized that it was Marc Antony...er something...that kind of killed some of the magic knowing that the same pop music in the states is playing over there...I would have rather heard some of their popular music...call it nationalism, I don't care.:) At the Bible college, they were about to have their Chapel, and they asked my Dad and Pastor Sanford Cooper to speak, but before that, they asked me to lead them in some worship, and they even gave me an acoustic guitar to play because my acoustic was in my room with my electric. That was alot of fun. Then we went to the mall, and some guy tried to sell me a hat that was made in NY. Later that night, I met the guys from the band that would be backing Kristen and I up in worship.
8.09.02- The first day of the Pastor's conference went smoothly. It went from 9am - 4:30pm. We began worship, then both pastors spoke, then a break, then both Pastors again, then lunch. After lunch, we worshipped again then both pastors spoke and then we prayed for people. When the meetings were done, I crashed in my room.
8.10.02- The second day was similar to the first day, except only Kristen and I played for worship, not the rest of the musicians from that area who were helping out, which was not an awful thing. Although, after lunch, I asked if someone from the crowd could lead us in a Zulu worship song or two, and two people did. It was very nice to hear something prized by a different culture. That night, we got invited to go to a Pastor's house for dinner, but only Pastor Cooper and Ron went. We were all critically tired, and also very sick of curry. The other guy in our group, Bill, who had been robbed of a last name on his name tag, and became formerly known as 'Bill' or even worse 'Mr. Bill", found an add for a burger joint called Jolly Gruber which made us kind of sick because all of the food had been "curry-fied".
8.11.02- The next morning, we went to two Churches, an Indian Church and a black Church. At the Indian Church, Sanford Cooper preached. I wasn't scheduled to play, nor was Kristen planning on singing, but we ended up doing so. Again, I didn't bring my Strat so I used their guitarists Kramer which I referred to as "the Red Special" because it was red. :) After the service, they fed us again...at which time I leaned over to Alice, who was part of our group, and told her that all we did anymore was eat. It was true. Everyone tried to stuff us. The black Church was a giant outdoor tent which made uncle Skip all excited because he's black. When we walked in everyone was dancing and getting all crazy. It smelled badly, but the music was good. Then I saw the most fascinating thing that I saw on the entire trip: their worship team consisted of singers and one keyboard player who couldn't have been older than 9 or 10. This kid was phenomenal. His name was Caesar. Musical jargon: he didn't just harmonize everything with I, IV's & V's. His arrangements were colorful improvisations considering the people leading the songs didn't refer to him for a specific key before singing. He matched pitch very well. I had to shake his hand afterward. My dad spoke that day and did an excellent job.
8.12.02- On Monday, we woke up at 5 and caught a plane to Johannesburg. After we landed, we went to the mall, and then drove for an hour to Witburg which is where we had the second two-day pastor's conference. This hotel was much nicer than the one in Durban. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but at one point, everyone was in my and Skip's room gathered around the TV watching Family Ties. It was glorious. I even had my guitar on, so we sang along with the theme song...everyone except Skip who thinks we're a bunch of weird white people. We hit the McDonald's that night. Our US dollar goes a long way in SA, that made for a fun McDonald's trip. That night, I met the musicians from the area who would be backing us in worship.
8.13.02- This conference was similar to the one in Durban except it went from 9am - 9pm with a break at 5 'til 7. The musicians were much more skilled in Witburg. The first day went very well, and we prayed for people that night.
8.14.02- The last night of the conference was good too. One of the young pastors there said that he would be blessed if I would give him my Bible. He said it was something symbolic for him. It was very interesting. I ended up giving it to him. Then he said he would be blessed if I gave him my jacket...just kidding.
8.15.02- The last morning, we had breakfast with Bishop Jackson Khosa who is a pastor in Africa. He told us some crazy stories about the witchcraft in the area. They were almost too hard to believe. He told us Africa has always had a lot of occult involvement. Anywho, we packed up, and drove for an hour to Johannesburg and went to the mall and the shady flea market and then we caught our 19 hour flight home.
8.16.02- The flight home was bad. There was a retarded guy sitting directly behind me who laughed at the movies at an obnoxiously loud level. He also kept bumping my chair and sticking his finger through the side of my chair without relent for the duration of the trip. I had compassion for him for the first ten hours or so, and then I just prayed that he'd fall asleep or something. The food was bad, so I didn't eat any of it. in fact, I didn't eat a thing from lunch in Johannesburg until around 9 o'clock in the morning on the 17th. The plane was delayed one hour taking off because someone who had already boarded just realized that he/she was sick and got off the plane, which meant that they had to get their luggage. Him seemed so far away. We had to make one of those stops for gas on some remote island.,,tack on another hour. When we landed, the plane smelled like B.O. and much to our misfortune, another medical emergency when means we sat on the plan for a half hour without the air on waiting for the medical techs to board and help whoever was sick. When we finally got off the plane and through customs, the luggage compartments we jammed, so we waiting another 45 minutes in the luggage terminal waiting for our stuff. Finally, we left JFK airport and caught some good traffic on the way home. When I came home, and took a couple showers and then went to sleep.