I can’t tell you how many times I have been called “Auntie Amanda” this year. It is beyond my ability to count. I also can’t tell you how many times I have been confused about how people are related because they refer to everyone as their relatives.
“This is my Aunt Eunice” said the Dean of my circuit a few months ago when introducing me to a woman in his former congregation. Only after some further conversations did I realize they weren’t ACTUALLY related.
“My sister passed away” said my friend here … Only after some more questions did I find out that they were ACTUALLY only cousins.
“Mother!” Thando and Kerah exclaim when they see Susan… only after some more observations and questions do I realize she’s not ACTUALLY their mother.
Even to strangers, it is common to say “Dumela, mae” to an older woman you pass… meaning “Hello mother” or “Siyabonga, Baba” (Thank you, father) to an older man who has helped you out in some way. Sisi and Buti are also common names to call strangers (meaning sister and brother). And of course, there are the “Gogo’s”- literally meaning granny, any old lady can be your granny and let me tell you, you’d best be respectful. Those gogos WILL put you in your place… just like your own grandmother might.
At first, this reality was confusing and strange to me. I mean, I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. I had a friend growing up who was raised to call female family friends Aunt _______... for example, Aunt Kathy or Aunt Beth. I always found it a little strange but as we got older I thought it was sort of interesting. Here, I find it fascinating. People will often introduce me to their children as an “Auntie” and immediately the child knows that I am not really a stranger anymore and they can feel comfortable with me. It is a fast way of breaking down barriers between people. It seems that in many ways, this relational way of thinking permeates the culture beyond just what people call each other.
The other day, I was on a taxi in which the people in the front were having some trouble making change for the other passengers. The woman behind me asked me “Ntombizan (my girl), did Gogo get her change?” referring to the elderly lady next to me who was not really paying attention to the situation. I replied that “Yes” she had. As brief and simple as it was, this moment struck me because I felt as though we were all looking out for each other, making sure everyone was taken care of in the process. It may seem like a small example, but it is a glimpse into a significant facet of the culture here.
I have experienced generosity beyond all my expectations in every part of life here. Whenever I have asked for directions in downtown Johannesburg or elsewhere, people have led me for blocks to where I needed to go or they have taken me by the arm and dragged me through busy city streets to the taxi I need to be on. Of course, a large part of this generosity is that people feel they need to help me because I’m white and if they don’t, I might be scared or feel unwelcome. The fact however remains that regardless of skin color or background, people look out for each other and treat each other as brothers and sisters.
In the Christian tradition, we have the tendency to use the phrase “my brothers and sisters in Christ”. But how sincerely do we mean that? How often do we actually treat others as though they are our brothers and sisters? How often do we treat our blood brothers and sisters with the love, generosity and compassion that we should… let alone strangers? I have come to love the relaxed nature of relationships here. It is usually very easy to joke with someone you’ve just met and it’s comforting to know that no matter where you are, most people are looking out for you.
Many times throughout this experience, I have been reminded of a time in highschool when I was working at CVS Pharmacy as a cashier. It may seem like an arbitrary thing to think about here but let me explain. During the year that I worked there, I was totally miserable. Customers rarely gave a genuine greeting to me or my co-workers. I often left my shift feeling like not one person had even noticed me that day… even though I would be ringing up their items patiently and happily. The day I quit was liberating and I was happy to be done with the mundane job. However, the experience stuck with me because after working there, I have never treated another clerk, cashier, waitress or receptionist the same. It’s my firm belief that everyone should work some kind of job like this to truly understand the life of a minimum-wage person who is at an under-appreciated, boring job.
Here, it’s true that there are people who are over-looked and under-appreciated. However, there is relief from that situation in the way that the culture unfolds in a relational, intentional way that encourages “Ubuntu”- the concept that “I am because we are”. Even the IsiZulu greeting, “Saubona” literally translated means “I see you”. I see you as a legitimate, worthwhile human being and I recognize you as a member of my community.
It is my hope that we will someday come to realize that we cannot de-humanize others by treating them in a way that perpetuates their loneliness or feelings of isolation. We must see others as God has seen us- as His children- and treat our siblings as members of our family. All people deserve to feel the love and compassion of God and this love and compassion will not drop out of the sky for them. We must be agents of love, peace, understanding, reconciliation, compassion and kindness in the world. We must be representatives of our loving God and show others the love God feels for them. Brothers and sisters, this is my hope for us. This is my hope for our family.
This blog entry was written for the ELCA MUD3 blog, which can be viewed at: http://elcamud.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Take the long way home
After a long day in Soweto, I am headed home to Bonaero Park. I had been visiting another YAGM volunteer, Joy and her visiting family. At around 4:15, I walk through the busy township which has become one of my favorite places in the country. I have three taxis ahead of me and the sun here has been going down around 7pm so I want to be back by 6:30 at the latest. As I approach the main street in Joy’s neighborhood I hold one finger in the air pointing sky-ward. A taxi goes by and the driver holds up 4 fingers. Darn… Orlando. About 5 seconds later another taxi, another 4 fingers. What the heck is happening in Orlando today? Finally, the third taxi, about 10 seconds later acknowledges my index finger with his own and gives a happy beep as he pulls over. I slide the door of the taxi open to find about 8 people already there. “Sanbonani, taxi!” I greet as I climb in with my clumsy backpack behind me. And we are Joburg-bound. As we drive through the busy streets, the driver beeps to get people’s attention. Slowly, but surely, stop after stop, we fill the taxi.
As the last of the 15 passengers climbs in and we set off on the highway, we surrender forth our 7 Rands and 50 cents… or 8 rands and 50 cents depending on where we boarded. Each row passes their change forward to the individual in the front seat next to the driver. I try to avoid that seat at all costs. The potential stress of having multiple sets of money coming to me with people saying “one, 8.50. two, 7:50” Ah, I’m not sure I would do well! Finally, all the change is worked out and we are whizzing through the outer layers of Jozi. We pass Orlando Stadium and the security outside means the Pirates must be playing. Oh! I remember now what’s happening in Orlando- the Pirates play the Sundowns tonight. How could I forget? I’ll be cheering the Sundowns later. We pass the world cup stadium, Soccer City. I think about the last game I went to there. Just about 2 weeks ago with my mom- Kaizer Chiefs facing Maritzburg United… Chiefs won, of course.
Finally we come into downtown and I quickly recognize where I am. Newtown, Bree street, Ah- here’s my stop! “Short left!” I exclaim with a bit of a South-African slur so the driver actually knows what I’m saying. I slide the door open and step onto the street knowing exactly where I’m headed. Ooh, bananas… I need some of those! 3 rands. Oh, and I need airtime. Luckily the street vendor I just passed yelling about airtime is selling some vouchers so I can recharge my cell phone. 12 rands. I keep walking down the street I know so well. Fruit, t-shirts, soccer jerseys, shoes, hot mealies (corn), house music bumping from a cd stand, pan-handlers. Ahead there is a crowd gathered around about 10 young people in traditional dress. They are singing and clapping. Two girls come forward and begin kicking high in the air… Zulu dancing. I continue walking. Finally I get to the BP station where I cross the street and make my way to a parking lot behind a church where my taxi to Kempton Park is waiting. There are people all around and about 20 or 30 taxis are parked and waiting to fill before they leave the city. The Kempton Park taxi is not where it usually is so I ask a driver nearby “Kempton Park?” to which he replies “That red one.” And points to a taxi about 3 away.
Terrific… as I approach the red taxi I wonder if it will be different from most other red taxis I have taken… For some reason, the red taxis, I have found are the worst. Many taxis, regardless of color, have been in operation far longer than they should be. The doors sometimes get stuck… the seats bend when you lean back on them… I’ve even seen people hold the sliding door on it’s runners as the taxi travels. This taxi was not quite as bad as I was expecting. However, some assembly was still required to make the seat and door functional. Here we go!
As we come out of the city I can’t help but look around at my surroundings and wonder how I ended up here in this vibrant city thousands of miles from what I have always known. After being here for several months, it’s amazing to me that these moments still occur for me. I am struck by the beauty of a sunset, a deep conversation with a stranger or music in the streets. At times, I still cannot believe I’m here and this is my life. It is a privilege and a blessing to have this opportunity. Seeing life here and learning from the people I meet has been the most unique, extraordinary experience of my short life. So this is what I contemplate on the taxi. =)
Our bright red taxi arrives in Kempton park. This busy suburb area still feels like a mini-Joburg. People everywhere and lots of bars, clubs and shops line the streets. I step off the taxi after a minor struggle with the taxi door and seats. I cross the street quickly to get to the final taxi rank. Although this rank can be rather hectic at times, it is a place where I feel pretty comfortable. Men throw coins down on gambling tables in a way I don’t really understand. People sit on crates playing cards and there is all kinds of food, candy and sodas for sale. I have taken taxis from this rank all over the area. I find the Bonaero Park taxi in its usual place and sit next to a very pregnant woman in the first row. A moment later, a woman with a small child comes and sits in the front row, as well. A few minutes pass as we wait for the taxi to fill. A robust woman approaches with her boy friend and a loud exchange takes place at the taxi door as she pulls herself into the seat. As soon as she sits in her seat and releases a loud sigh, she glances around and sees me “Ah! Amonda!” she exclaims. “Hello, Dinah!” I reply. This woman works at the conference center where I live! She has become like a surrogate mother to me, actually. We talk about where we have been during the day and say how surprised we are to see each other on this taxi!
Finally, we zoom off to our final destination. 7 rands collected from each passenger and Dinah and I disembark after a short trip up the road. We walk several minutes to the conference center where we both live. I am happy to be back at just 6:20pm with plenty of daylight left. It has been an adventurous day and as exciting as it has been, I’m happy to be back here at home in Bonaero Park: just another day in the beautiful country I have come to love so much. And I love to take the long way home.
As the last of the 15 passengers climbs in and we set off on the highway, we surrender forth our 7 Rands and 50 cents… or 8 rands and 50 cents depending on where we boarded. Each row passes their change forward to the individual in the front seat next to the driver. I try to avoid that seat at all costs. The potential stress of having multiple sets of money coming to me with people saying “one, 8.50. two, 7:50” Ah, I’m not sure I would do well! Finally, all the change is worked out and we are whizzing through the outer layers of Jozi. We pass Orlando Stadium and the security outside means the Pirates must be playing. Oh! I remember now what’s happening in Orlando- the Pirates play the Sundowns tonight. How could I forget? I’ll be cheering the Sundowns later. We pass the world cup stadium, Soccer City. I think about the last game I went to there. Just about 2 weeks ago with my mom- Kaizer Chiefs facing Maritzburg United… Chiefs won, of course.
Finally we come into downtown and I quickly recognize where I am. Newtown, Bree street, Ah- here’s my stop! “Short left!” I exclaim with a bit of a South-African slur so the driver actually knows what I’m saying. I slide the door open and step onto the street knowing exactly where I’m headed. Ooh, bananas… I need some of those! 3 rands. Oh, and I need airtime. Luckily the street vendor I just passed yelling about airtime is selling some vouchers so I can recharge my cell phone. 12 rands. I keep walking down the street I know so well. Fruit, t-shirts, soccer jerseys, shoes, hot mealies (corn), house music bumping from a cd stand, pan-handlers. Ahead there is a crowd gathered around about 10 young people in traditional dress. They are singing and clapping. Two girls come forward and begin kicking high in the air… Zulu dancing. I continue walking. Finally I get to the BP station where I cross the street and make my way to a parking lot behind a church where my taxi to Kempton Park is waiting. There are people all around and about 20 or 30 taxis are parked and waiting to fill before they leave the city. The Kempton Park taxi is not where it usually is so I ask a driver nearby “Kempton Park?” to which he replies “That red one.” And points to a taxi about 3 away.
Terrific… as I approach the red taxi I wonder if it will be different from most other red taxis I have taken… For some reason, the red taxis, I have found are the worst. Many taxis, regardless of color, have been in operation far longer than they should be. The doors sometimes get stuck… the seats bend when you lean back on them… I’ve even seen people hold the sliding door on it’s runners as the taxi travels. This taxi was not quite as bad as I was expecting. However, some assembly was still required to make the seat and door functional. Here we go!
As we come out of the city I can’t help but look around at my surroundings and wonder how I ended up here in this vibrant city thousands of miles from what I have always known. After being here for several months, it’s amazing to me that these moments still occur for me. I am struck by the beauty of a sunset, a deep conversation with a stranger or music in the streets. At times, I still cannot believe I’m here and this is my life. It is a privilege and a blessing to have this opportunity. Seeing life here and learning from the people I meet has been the most unique, extraordinary experience of my short life. So this is what I contemplate on the taxi. =)
Our bright red taxi arrives in Kempton park. This busy suburb area still feels like a mini-Joburg. People everywhere and lots of bars, clubs and shops line the streets. I step off the taxi after a minor struggle with the taxi door and seats. I cross the street quickly to get to the final taxi rank. Although this rank can be rather hectic at times, it is a place where I feel pretty comfortable. Men throw coins down on gambling tables in a way I don’t really understand. People sit on crates playing cards and there is all kinds of food, candy and sodas for sale. I have taken taxis from this rank all over the area. I find the Bonaero Park taxi in its usual place and sit next to a very pregnant woman in the first row. A moment later, a woman with a small child comes and sits in the front row, as well. A few minutes pass as we wait for the taxi to fill. A robust woman approaches with her boy friend and a loud exchange takes place at the taxi door as she pulls herself into the seat. As soon as she sits in her seat and releases a loud sigh, she glances around and sees me “Ah! Amonda!” she exclaims. “Hello, Dinah!” I reply. This woman works at the conference center where I live! She has become like a surrogate mother to me, actually. We talk about where we have been during the day and say how surprised we are to see each other on this taxi!
Finally, we zoom off to our final destination. 7 rands collected from each passenger and Dinah and I disembark after a short trip up the road. We walk several minutes to the conference center where we both live. I am happy to be back at just 6:20pm with plenty of daylight left. It has been an adventurous day and as exciting as it has been, I’m happy to be back here at home in Bonaero Park: just another day in the beautiful country I have come to love so much. And I love to take the long way home.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Visit from "Mom-zozo"!
In the days leading up to my mother's visit to South Africa, people around my site could tell I was getting excited. I could barely keep the smile off of my face. I had a countdown from about 10 days prior... I was planning our schedule for her two week visit here and things were looking terrific. My friends Sakhile and Jane who work in the kitchen at the conference center where I live would tease me incessantly every morning. "When is your Mom-zozo coming??" "Will you feed her chicken feet when she comes to see you?" "Will you sleep in the same bed?". I would laugh at them and report how many more days... yes, she would love to try chicken feet... and no we would not be staying in the same bed. =) Haha.
Finally the day came! She was to arrive around 10:20am and my friend Thomas who works here in reception was going to come with me to the airport. He insisted that he be the first person to hug her when she came off the plane (after me, of course!) So we stood there in the arrival area, me with my stomach in knots SO excited to greet my mother after 6 months in this country. It seemed like forever before we saw her coming into the waiting area! SHE'S HERE! Instantly, Thomas started snapping pictures and we hugged like we'd never seen each other before. It was basically terrific. =)
After meeting everyone here at my site and seeing the sites of Joburg, my mom and I travelled south into the Kwa-Zulu Natal province to visit Brian and Kristen, the country coordinators of the YAGM program and to see the sights of South Africa. We saw many animals at Hluhluwe-Imfolozi national park and we met several of the other YAGM volunteers in Stanger for lunch one day. We stayed with Valerie in a very rural area of the country. We stood on the beach and put our feet in the Indian ocean. We stood in awe of the mountains and stared up at the clear, dark sky at the milky way galaxy. We spent some time at the Apartheid Museum outside of Joburg and we attended a Chiefs soccer game at a World Cup stadium. Overall, the time was incredible. Most importantly, I got to spend some terrific, high quality time with my "Mom-zozo". It was such a blessing to have her stay where I stay, meet my closest friends here and tell her stories about my life and experiences here.
Thomas, my mom and William at the airport on her last day.
When she left on Wednesday of this week, it was sad but it was worth all the good times we had. When I went to breakfast the next morning, Sakhile and Jane were there to make fun of me again... asking me if I cried when my Mom left. I said "Of course I did!" I then went on to explain to them that we live far apart and won't see each other for a long time. They reminded me that they also live far from their families. Sakhile's family lives in Zimbabwe and she only gets to see her parents one time a year. I realized that while it has been hard for me to be away from home for this long, I am not the only one here who is faced with this situation. Many of the employees here are from Zimbabwe or the Northern province of South Africa and are removed from their families on a regular basis. While I am younger than most of them and much further from home, I was once again reminded that my life and my struggles are not so different from those with whom I am living and working. There is a temptation here to feel different and special... like a martyr, suffering for this work. But the reality is that when we honestly engage in relationship with those around us, we will see that we are more similar than we ever could have dreamed and we are all part of one family. We are faced with the same sorrows and we encounter the same joys. We are all connected and are bound to each other.
So, while I miss my family, my mom's visit and the subsequent realizations have reminded me that this is a short-term experience. As I grow closer to my friends and family here in South Africa with each passing day, I also am reminded of how quickly these days are passing and how soon I will be back in the states missing South Africa. So Mom-zozo, I know you miss me and want me home, but I'm not done here! My South African family has so much more to teach me. =)
Finally the day came! She was to arrive around 10:20am and my friend Thomas who works here in reception was going to come with me to the airport. He insisted that he be the first person to hug her when she came off the plane (after me, of course!) So we stood there in the arrival area, me with my stomach in knots SO excited to greet my mother after 6 months in this country. It seemed like forever before we saw her coming into the waiting area! SHE'S HERE! Instantly, Thomas started snapping pictures and we hugged like we'd never seen each other before. It was basically terrific. =)
After meeting everyone here at my site and seeing the sites of Joburg, my mom and I travelled south into the Kwa-Zulu Natal province to visit Brian and Kristen, the country coordinators of the YAGM program and to see the sights of South Africa. We saw many animals at Hluhluwe-Imfolozi national park and we met several of the other YAGM volunteers in Stanger for lunch one day. We stayed with Valerie in a very rural area of the country. We stood on the beach and put our feet in the Indian ocean. We stood in awe of the mountains and stared up at the clear, dark sky at the milky way galaxy. We spent some time at the Apartheid Museum outside of Joburg and we attended a Chiefs soccer game at a World Cup stadium. Overall, the time was incredible. Most importantly, I got to spend some terrific, high quality time with my "Mom-zozo". It was such a blessing to have her stay where I stay, meet my closest friends here and tell her stories about my life and experiences here.
Thomas, my mom and William at the airport on her last day.
When she left on Wednesday of this week, it was sad but it was worth all the good times we had. When I went to breakfast the next morning, Sakhile and Jane were there to make fun of me again... asking me if I cried when my Mom left. I said "Of course I did!" I then went on to explain to them that we live far apart and won't see each other for a long time. They reminded me that they also live far from their families. Sakhile's family lives in Zimbabwe and she only gets to see her parents one time a year. I realized that while it has been hard for me to be away from home for this long, I am not the only one here who is faced with this situation. Many of the employees here are from Zimbabwe or the Northern province of South Africa and are removed from their families on a regular basis. While I am younger than most of them and much further from home, I was once again reminded that my life and my struggles are not so different from those with whom I am living and working. There is a temptation here to feel different and special... like a martyr, suffering for this work. But the reality is that when we honestly engage in relationship with those around us, we will see that we are more similar than we ever could have dreamed and we are all part of one family. We are faced with the same sorrows and we encounter the same joys. We are all connected and are bound to each other.
So, while I miss my family, my mom's visit and the subsequent realizations have reminded me that this is a short-term experience. As I grow closer to my friends and family here in South Africa with each passing day, I also am reminded of how quickly these days are passing and how soon I will be back in the states missing South Africa. So Mom-zozo, I know you miss me and want me home, but I'm not done here! My South African family has so much more to teach me. =)
It's just a bug... right?
In my years of being a camp counselor, I can’t tell you how many times I have told screaming 10 year old girls (and boys, occasionally) “Calm down! It’s just a bug!” I also can’t tell you how many times I have sprayed campers with bug spray or gotten itch cream for a kid with a bug bite. I myself have suffered from the incessant itching of countless bug bites. But none of these experiences were particularly remarkable for me because people can’t die of a bug bite… right?
In reality, 750,000 people die of a bug bite each year. 2,000 children die each day… of a bug bite. What is this horrible bug? Is it the black widow spider, some kind of killer bee? No, it is a mosquito. Malaria is one of the leading causes of death for the developing world… and it’s entirely preventable.
In mid-January, the office of LUCSA, the Lutheran Communion in Southern Africa, held a conference and planning meeting to develop their 2011 Malaria program strategy. This program is relatively new and at this point is entirely funded by the ELCA. Five countries within Southern Africa were represented at this meeting by their Malaria project coordinators and field officers. The week consisted of reporting on the past year’s activities and proposals of the upcoming year’s plans and budgets. Programming varied from net distribution and instruction, to destruction of mosquito breeding grounds to education for identifying symptoms of malaria and rapid response. Observing these meetings was such an awesome experience for me and I felt honored to witness such an important meeting that will save thousands of lives in southern Africa.
Malaria is not a major problem in the country of South Africa. I have anti-malaria medication in a drawer somewhere for when I travel to the eastern part of the country where there are game reserves and the malaria-risk goes up. But I rarely think about malaria here. How often do North Americans think of this deadly disease? Probably about as often as I do here in South Africa. Malaria was eradicated from North America in 1950. Since then, 41 million people have died of malaria in the rest of the world. How is this possible? We know how to prevent malaria. We ourselves have purged it from our country and continent, saving the lives of our children and future generations. The issue of malaria in developing countries is not just an issue of public health. It is also an issue of economics and social justice.
On one of the first days of the malaria meetings, Rev. Benyam Kassahun of ELCA Global Mission delivered an important message to those in attendance at the conference. He stated that North America does not face the challenge of malaria. We have not had to think about this problem for decades. However, here in Africa, malaria is a problem. A part of the body of Christ has a problem with malaria and so the entire body is affected. Thus, we DO have a problem with malaria in North America. We are compelled by our understanding of the gospel to solve this issue and work together to save the lives that are being lost.
Why is this such a difficult concept for us to grasp and act upon? Children are dying of a preventable disease; a disease that we know how to stop and that we put an end to for ourselves a long time ago. Yet somehow, it continues. Why is it so easy for us to push such issues out of our minds and turn a blind eye? Is it because we are so far removed from it that it doesn’t feel like real people are dying? Does it simply fit our picture of “poor Africa” and we have accepted that these things happen in “Africa”? If 2,000 American children died each day of a preventable disease, what would be the response of our people and our government? If 250 million Americans were infected each year by this deadly disease (more than 75% of our country’s population) how would this change our perspective? Now imagine if this was the health crisis in America and there was another country somewhere that had solved these issues for its own people over 60 years ago. If that’s not injustice, I don’t know what is… So why are we allowing it to continue?
More and more, I am discovering how ignorant we are of how the policies and economy of the U.S. impact the lives of people around the world. We are dependent on the rest of the world for so much and yet we sometimes act as if we are functioning in a vacuum. We only see the issues that are right in front of us and we do not bother to understand the way our policies impact the entire world. I, too, am guilty of this ignorance. I have never completely understood global economics or the centuries of war that have shaped our influence around the globe. However, being aware of these issues that impact so many is the first step in understanding our position in the world. This knowledge moves us towards finding solutions for problems that affect millions of fellow humans.
Not only are we morally obligated as members of the human race to make ourselves aware of these issues, but as Christians we are, as Rev Kassahun said, compelled by the gospel to face such issues head-on. Christ challenges us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. To address their issues as we address our own. What would Christ’s life and ministry look like without empathy for the stranger? What would be notable about his life if he was only healing his friends and disciples? Always curing his own headaches and bruises and drying the tears of his own family? Perhaps the most remarkable, compelling and confusing parts of the gospel are moments in which Christ welcomes a stranger or an outcast to be part of a miracle or part of his ministry. Repeatedly we hear the stories of lepers, prostitutes, Samaritans, or just strangers who Jesus comes across and treats as equals. We must emulate this example and learn that while there is nothing we can DO to earn God’s love, the only appropriate response to the wonderful gift of grace we receive is to love others as God has loved us. This love we must have for others means that malaria must be ended for all people.
All figures and demographics included in this essay were provided by the World Vision campaign to end malaria, the World Health Organization and the U.S. census bureau. Check out the World Vision campaign to end malaria website to find out more about advocacy opportunities and for more information about ending malaria by 2015. www.endmalaria.org. Additionally, you can contribute to the ELCA Malaria fund at www.elca.org or you can make a donation to directly provide nets to those in need through ELCA Good Gifts. Thank you!
In reality, 750,000 people die of a bug bite each year. 2,000 children die each day… of a bug bite. What is this horrible bug? Is it the black widow spider, some kind of killer bee? No, it is a mosquito. Malaria is one of the leading causes of death for the developing world… and it’s entirely preventable.
In mid-January, the office of LUCSA, the Lutheran Communion in Southern Africa, held a conference and planning meeting to develop their 2011 Malaria program strategy. This program is relatively new and at this point is entirely funded by the ELCA. Five countries within Southern Africa were represented at this meeting by their Malaria project coordinators and field officers. The week consisted of reporting on the past year’s activities and proposals of the upcoming year’s plans and budgets. Programming varied from net distribution and instruction, to destruction of mosquito breeding grounds to education for identifying symptoms of malaria and rapid response. Observing these meetings was such an awesome experience for me and I felt honored to witness such an important meeting that will save thousands of lives in southern Africa.
Malaria is not a major problem in the country of South Africa. I have anti-malaria medication in a drawer somewhere for when I travel to the eastern part of the country where there are game reserves and the malaria-risk goes up. But I rarely think about malaria here. How often do North Americans think of this deadly disease? Probably about as often as I do here in South Africa. Malaria was eradicated from North America in 1950. Since then, 41 million people have died of malaria in the rest of the world. How is this possible? We know how to prevent malaria. We ourselves have purged it from our country and continent, saving the lives of our children and future generations. The issue of malaria in developing countries is not just an issue of public health. It is also an issue of economics and social justice.
On one of the first days of the malaria meetings, Rev. Benyam Kassahun of ELCA Global Mission delivered an important message to those in attendance at the conference. He stated that North America does not face the challenge of malaria. We have not had to think about this problem for decades. However, here in Africa, malaria is a problem. A part of the body of Christ has a problem with malaria and so the entire body is affected. Thus, we DO have a problem with malaria in North America. We are compelled by our understanding of the gospel to solve this issue and work together to save the lives that are being lost.
Why is this such a difficult concept for us to grasp and act upon? Children are dying of a preventable disease; a disease that we know how to stop and that we put an end to for ourselves a long time ago. Yet somehow, it continues. Why is it so easy for us to push such issues out of our minds and turn a blind eye? Is it because we are so far removed from it that it doesn’t feel like real people are dying? Does it simply fit our picture of “poor Africa” and we have accepted that these things happen in “Africa”? If 2,000 American children died each day of a preventable disease, what would be the response of our people and our government? If 250 million Americans were infected each year by this deadly disease (more than 75% of our country’s population) how would this change our perspective? Now imagine if this was the health crisis in America and there was another country somewhere that had solved these issues for its own people over 60 years ago. If that’s not injustice, I don’t know what is… So why are we allowing it to continue?
More and more, I am discovering how ignorant we are of how the policies and economy of the U.S. impact the lives of people around the world. We are dependent on the rest of the world for so much and yet we sometimes act as if we are functioning in a vacuum. We only see the issues that are right in front of us and we do not bother to understand the way our policies impact the entire world. I, too, am guilty of this ignorance. I have never completely understood global economics or the centuries of war that have shaped our influence around the globe. However, being aware of these issues that impact so many is the first step in understanding our position in the world. This knowledge moves us towards finding solutions for problems that affect millions of fellow humans.
Not only are we morally obligated as members of the human race to make ourselves aware of these issues, but as Christians we are, as Rev Kassahun said, compelled by the gospel to face such issues head-on. Christ challenges us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. To address their issues as we address our own. What would Christ’s life and ministry look like without empathy for the stranger? What would be notable about his life if he was only healing his friends and disciples? Always curing his own headaches and bruises and drying the tears of his own family? Perhaps the most remarkable, compelling and confusing parts of the gospel are moments in which Christ welcomes a stranger or an outcast to be part of a miracle or part of his ministry. Repeatedly we hear the stories of lepers, prostitutes, Samaritans, or just strangers who Jesus comes across and treats as equals. We must emulate this example and learn that while there is nothing we can DO to earn God’s love, the only appropriate response to the wonderful gift of grace we receive is to love others as God has loved us. This love we must have for others means that malaria must be ended for all people.
All figures and demographics included in this essay were provided by the World Vision campaign to end malaria, the World Health Organization and the U.S. census bureau. Check out the World Vision campaign to end malaria website to find out more about advocacy opportunities and for more information about ending malaria by 2015. www.endmalaria.org. Additionally, you can contribute to the ELCA Malaria fund at www.elca.org or you can make a donation to directly provide nets to those in need through ELCA Good Gifts. Thank you!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
A Merry Little Christmas. =)
In the weeks leading up to the holiday season, I was feeling a lot of pressure. Since I arrived in Bonaero Park in September, people have asked me what I was going to do about the festive season. “Aren’t you going to miss your family??” to which I would reply, “Of course!”. The inquiries were also laden with worry. “You know, we will all leave. You shouldn’t stay here. You can’t be alone!” So as November crept onward and the 25th loomed closer, I began to worry. I had talked to some of the other volunteers about their plans. Most had plans with their host families already and said they would ask about having another person, but I didn’t want to impose too much. Finally, Valerie, another volunteer who lives alone here in South Africa contacted me and we decided to spend Christmas together… we didn’t know where we would go, but we would be together.
Fortunately, Kate, a volunteer in Kwa-Zulu Natal, the Southeast province of the country offered to have us to her community for the holiday break! Kate lives with 4 other volunteers who are all from Germany. The Kenosis community where she lives is home to several dozen foster children and houses a crèche (nursery school) on the premises. With the holiday slow down, most of the foster families had left the community for rural homes. So Kate was also not sure what she would be doing for the holidays. Going to Kate’s was the perfect solution to our holiday worries! Valerie, Kate and I are all good friends and we knew that it would be a fantastic holiday season together!
Valerie, myself and Kate on our way to visit a waterfall nearby
In the days leading up to the big day, Kate, Valerie and I volunteered around Kenosis as much as we could. We painted a house, washed the Kenosis van and looked for little projects to help with. We also traveled down to Durban for a few days to help at Mike’s site with a Youth camp in a township. Before we knew it, it was Christmas Eve! We planned a wonderful dinner for Christmas Eve which included chicken with spice we found in Durban, veggies, broccoli casserole, twice baked potatoes and for dessert, traditional Christmas cookies and cold milk. We also invited Michael, one of the Kenosis kids who is about 16 and didn’t have Christmas Eve plans. As we sat on a blanket spread on the floor of the hall where we had prepared our meal, we listened to Christmas carols and smelled the branches of the Christmas tree in a Ziploc bag which Kate’s mom had sent us. It was a perfect evening.
The next morning, we woke up nice and early and met the sisters who live at Kenosis. Oh, did I forget to mention that? =) At Kate’s site there are three Lutheran nuns who live together there and offered to take us with them to church on Christmas morning! So, we piled into the van, eight of us all together and zoomed down the highway on our way to church. It was a fantastic experience to laugh and chat with these three women on a warm, sunny Christmas day!
Church was relatively short (only 2 hours!) and afterwards, we squished into an already full public taxi on the way to Maqonqo, a rural area outside of Pietermaritzburg. There we would meet up with Tandekile, one of the Kenosis foster mothers and spend the day with her and her family. When we arrived at her home, she was the only one in the kitchen with about 10 men and 5 kids already enjoying the day. So we dropped everything and helped make salads, meat, pap and all kinds of food for the Christmas dinner. Just a few hours later, we enjoyed a terrific meal and found ourselves playing with some of the kids at Tandekile’s home. The afternoon went WAY too fast and soon it was time for us to go.
We went back to Kenosis for dinner with the sisters who were hosting a large meal for the volunteers and some of their families who were visiting for the holidays. After another wonderful meal, we helped the sisters wash the excessive amounts of dishes. This ended up being my favorite part of the day as we sang Zulu choruses in the kitchen, dancing and doing the motions to the various songs as we put the dishes away. It was a wonderful way to end the day.
I did get the chance to talk to my family over the phone on Christmas day. I cried when I heard my brother’s voice, who I haven’t talked to since arriving here. I loved hearing from them and hearing about their day. However, I wouldn’t trade my South African Christmas for anything. It was a once in a lifetime experience that I will never forget. To celebrate the birth of Christ with people who I see Christ in everyday was so exciting. Ever since, I have felt more at home here in South Africa and I have been more and more appreciative of how beautiful and diverse this country is.
Christmas day at Tandekile's home
Fortunately, Kate, a volunteer in Kwa-Zulu Natal, the Southeast province of the country offered to have us to her community for the holiday break! Kate lives with 4 other volunteers who are all from Germany. The Kenosis community where she lives is home to several dozen foster children and houses a crèche (nursery school) on the premises. With the holiday slow down, most of the foster families had left the community for rural homes. So Kate was also not sure what she would be doing for the holidays. Going to Kate’s was the perfect solution to our holiday worries! Valerie, Kate and I are all good friends and we knew that it would be a fantastic holiday season together!
Valerie, myself and Kate on our way to visit a waterfall nearby
In the days leading up to the big day, Kate, Valerie and I volunteered around Kenosis as much as we could. We painted a house, washed the Kenosis van and looked for little projects to help with. We also traveled down to Durban for a few days to help at Mike’s site with a Youth camp in a township. Before we knew it, it was Christmas Eve! We planned a wonderful dinner for Christmas Eve which included chicken with spice we found in Durban, veggies, broccoli casserole, twice baked potatoes and for dessert, traditional Christmas cookies and cold milk. We also invited Michael, one of the Kenosis kids who is about 16 and didn’t have Christmas Eve plans. As we sat on a blanket spread on the floor of the hall where we had prepared our meal, we listened to Christmas carols and smelled the branches of the Christmas tree in a Ziploc bag which Kate’s mom had sent us. It was a perfect evening.
The next morning, we woke up nice and early and met the sisters who live at Kenosis. Oh, did I forget to mention that? =) At Kate’s site there are three Lutheran nuns who live together there and offered to take us with them to church on Christmas morning! So, we piled into the van, eight of us all together and zoomed down the highway on our way to church. It was a fantastic experience to laugh and chat with these three women on a warm, sunny Christmas day!
Church was relatively short (only 2 hours!) and afterwards, we squished into an already full public taxi on the way to Maqonqo, a rural area outside of Pietermaritzburg. There we would meet up with Tandekile, one of the Kenosis foster mothers and spend the day with her and her family. When we arrived at her home, she was the only one in the kitchen with about 10 men and 5 kids already enjoying the day. So we dropped everything and helped make salads, meat, pap and all kinds of food for the Christmas dinner. Just a few hours later, we enjoyed a terrific meal and found ourselves playing with some of the kids at Tandekile’s home. The afternoon went WAY too fast and soon it was time for us to go.
We went back to Kenosis for dinner with the sisters who were hosting a large meal for the volunteers and some of their families who were visiting for the holidays. After another wonderful meal, we helped the sisters wash the excessive amounts of dishes. This ended up being my favorite part of the day as we sang Zulu choruses in the kitchen, dancing and doing the motions to the various songs as we put the dishes away. It was a wonderful way to end the day.
I did get the chance to talk to my family over the phone on Christmas day. I cried when I heard my brother’s voice, who I haven’t talked to since arriving here. I loved hearing from them and hearing about their day. However, I wouldn’t trade my South African Christmas for anything. It was a once in a lifetime experience that I will never forget. To celebrate the birth of Christ with people who I see Christ in everyday was so exciting. Ever since, I have felt more at home here in South Africa and I have been more and more appreciative of how beautiful and diverse this country is.
Christmas day at Tandekile's home
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Ngiya xolisa kakhulu!!
Here is a wonderful Zulu phrase I have discovered is priceless knowledge here.... ngiya xolisa kakhulu... I am very sorry!!! It actually sorta means I apologize very much, but either way, it is used to express remorse and the sincerest of apology... which is what you deserve from me. It has been FAR too long since my last blog update and there has been SO much to update you on! Our first all-volunteer retreat, my travels throughout South Africa and Lesotho over the holidays, volunteering at other YAGM's sites and my joyous return to Bonaero Park. SO, stay tuned because you will be receiving update on all these things in the upcoming week or so.
I have resolved in this new year to communicate better with those of you who mean so much to me and to spend my time writing about my experiences. It's awesome how easily I get caught up in conversations and laughter with the people who live here with me in Bonaero Park but I need to remember that it's super important that I tell you about how great it is! After work, I usually go to the kitchen to catch up with some of the staff there who have been having rather quiet days lately since the year has been slow to start. Then I usually run into the security guys or the groundskeeper, Lungisani on my way to my room and end up chatting about the day, the weekend, the holiday or anything. Then after getting to my room, I usually find myself either visiting the staff house to see other friends here or I get a call from another YAGM or I get the chance to read a letter from the states. Before I know it, it's time for dinner and Generations! My favorite soapie here. =)By the time Generations ends, it's 8:30... which is not super late but there's not much else to do! So I usually journal or read the verses of the day and then head to bed. =) SO, you see, it's not impossible to find some time to blog. Though the past month with all my traveling throughout the country with very limited internet access, it was relatively impossible.
But new year, new resolutions and a new start means frequent updates! So again, stay tuned and I'll be telling you some wonderful stories about this beautiful country which has become a second home to me. =)
I have resolved in this new year to communicate better with those of you who mean so much to me and to spend my time writing about my experiences. It's awesome how easily I get caught up in conversations and laughter with the people who live here with me in Bonaero Park but I need to remember that it's super important that I tell you about how great it is! After work, I usually go to the kitchen to catch up with some of the staff there who have been having rather quiet days lately since the year has been slow to start. Then I usually run into the security guys or the groundskeeper, Lungisani on my way to my room and end up chatting about the day, the weekend, the holiday or anything. Then after getting to my room, I usually find myself either visiting the staff house to see other friends here or I get a call from another YAGM or I get the chance to read a letter from the states. Before I know it, it's time for dinner and Generations! My favorite soapie here. =)By the time Generations ends, it's 8:30... which is not super late but there's not much else to do! So I usually journal or read the verses of the day and then head to bed. =) SO, you see, it's not impossible to find some time to blog. Though the past month with all my traveling throughout the country with very limited internet access, it was relatively impossible.
But new year, new resolutions and a new start means frequent updates! So again, stay tuned and I'll be telling you some wonderful stories about this beautiful country which has become a second home to me. =)
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Expecting the Unexpected
There are many things I have seen since coming to South Africa that I never could have imagined…. A few weeks ago, I saw a taxi driving through a mall. Today in church, children played in the center aisle throughout the entire worship service. I’ve seen horses roaming around the townships and I’ve seen after-parties for funerals that easily could have been mistaken for wedding receptions. Even further beyond my imagination is the fact that I have come to expect these unexpected things. I have become comfortable seeing some of the random things that people come into taxis with. It is familiar and normal to me that people go to church with whistles around their necks to accompany the choruses they sing and I’m not surprised anymore to see young children standing on the benches during worship so they can participate in the singing and dancing during the service. It’s strange to feel so familiar with what can seem so out of the ordinary at times. There are moments when I stand back and objectively see how confusing this situation would normally be for me, but then I recognize that I really am learning to “go with the flow” as it were.
The physical objects and circumstances that I couldn’t have expected are frequent. However, equally as frequent are the interactions and conversations I have had completely unexpectedly and, more often than not, prove themselves again and again to be my favorite moments here.
Sometimes, these conversations start from a curiosity… someone wondering why you are riding public transportation or someone commenting about a sports team you support. A few weeks ago, several other YAGMS and I were standing in a parking lot talking and we ended up having an in-depth conversation with 4 “Capitec Bank” representatives for over an hour! I love these moments because it shows us that we have more in common with the people around us than we could ever realize. Taking the time to really see the people around us and recognize that they are worth our time can reveal massive amounts of insight about ourselves, others, the world around us and the God we are all a part of.
On Saturday, I found myself more confused than usual. I was at a church for a circuit council meeting and after the meeting, there was to be a meeting of the executive committee of the council. I figured it was a closed meeting so I would step outside and read my book. However, a woman came up to me and started asking me where we should go… this room or that one…. Or should we sit outside? She discussed it with the Dean of the circuit (not in English) and they chose a room- the sacristy at the back of the sanctuary and her and I entered it together. We sat down at the table and she began to ask me about my time in South Africa and about my work here this year. We talked about our families, about life, about God, about our spiritual gifts and then we got to the “point” of the conversation.
Eunice (as I later discovered was her name) told me that she used to be in the healthcare field and a little while ago, she single-handedly began an HIV/AIDS screening and education program in her congregation. It was very successful and there have been discussions of making it a circuit-wide program. The Dean wanted me to talk to her to see how I could get involved with the development of a wider program, and we did exchange contact information and ideas about the future, but what was gained from our conversation was of even greater value to us both.
As we talked about our families, Eunice told me that her grandchildren had lived with her since May when her only daughter passed away. I didn’t ask much about it at the time. Trying to be sensitive, I simply apologized for her loss and let the conversation continue. Later though, our discussion returned to the subject of her daughter and she began to describe how quickly her daughter had passed just a few months prior. As she talked, I felt my throat tightening. I listened to her story of how her daughter contracted meningitis and passed away in a matter of just days. She rubbed her eyes as she told me of her two grandchildren now living with her, having no other options. Tears fell from mine as I imagined her pain- and as I remembered my own. When she finished her story, we paused and I told her I couldn’t imagine her experience. I then told her about my own grief- my own recent loss and while losing a grandmother who had lived a long, wonderful life could not compare to losing a child, I also was grieving. She asked what happened and as I explained to her my Granny’s rapid deterioration in July and her passing just a week before I left for South Africa, I struggled to speak. Suddenly, she stood up, pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in a massive embrace holding me until I could breathe deeply and calmly again.
Who could have expected that scene? Grieving South African mother holding grieving American granddaughter. I certainly didn’t expect that the first person here that I would completely open my broken heart to would be a sweet woman like Eunice who I had just met.
It is sometimes said “God works in mysterious ways”. I am finding more and more that this is true in that God rarely works as we expect. Too often, we pray about our problems with a solution in mind; thinking we know what is best for ourselves. However, God more often works through the unexpected things in our lives. It’s written in 1 Corinthians 1:27-28 “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring about things that are.” God doesn’t use what we expect God to use. We see power in what is already strong, but God sees power in what is weak and then makes it strong to display God’s power.
These past few months, I undoubtedly have experienced God working through unexpected people and unexpected circumstances to bring about change in my life and in the lives of those around me. So, as I learn each day to expect the unexpected, I continually am reminded that in this way, we must make room for the Spirit to move through our lives. Making time to willingly engage in that unexpected conversation, or embracing unanticipated circumstances that threaten to “ruin” our day… these are the first steps we can take towards being free to experience the unexpected and the closer we come to truly opening our hearts to those around us. You never know what to expect!
The physical objects and circumstances that I couldn’t have expected are frequent. However, equally as frequent are the interactions and conversations I have had completely unexpectedly and, more often than not, prove themselves again and again to be my favorite moments here.
Sometimes, these conversations start from a curiosity… someone wondering why you are riding public transportation or someone commenting about a sports team you support. A few weeks ago, several other YAGMS and I were standing in a parking lot talking and we ended up having an in-depth conversation with 4 “Capitec Bank” representatives for over an hour! I love these moments because it shows us that we have more in common with the people around us than we could ever realize. Taking the time to really see the people around us and recognize that they are worth our time can reveal massive amounts of insight about ourselves, others, the world around us and the God we are all a part of.
On Saturday, I found myself more confused than usual. I was at a church for a circuit council meeting and after the meeting, there was to be a meeting of the executive committee of the council. I figured it was a closed meeting so I would step outside and read my book. However, a woman came up to me and started asking me where we should go… this room or that one…. Or should we sit outside? She discussed it with the Dean of the circuit (not in English) and they chose a room- the sacristy at the back of the sanctuary and her and I entered it together. We sat down at the table and she began to ask me about my time in South Africa and about my work here this year. We talked about our families, about life, about God, about our spiritual gifts and then we got to the “point” of the conversation.
Eunice (as I later discovered was her name) told me that she used to be in the healthcare field and a little while ago, she single-handedly began an HIV/AIDS screening and education program in her congregation. It was very successful and there have been discussions of making it a circuit-wide program. The Dean wanted me to talk to her to see how I could get involved with the development of a wider program, and we did exchange contact information and ideas about the future, but what was gained from our conversation was of even greater value to us both.
As we talked about our families, Eunice told me that her grandchildren had lived with her since May when her only daughter passed away. I didn’t ask much about it at the time. Trying to be sensitive, I simply apologized for her loss and let the conversation continue. Later though, our discussion returned to the subject of her daughter and she began to describe how quickly her daughter had passed just a few months prior. As she talked, I felt my throat tightening. I listened to her story of how her daughter contracted meningitis and passed away in a matter of just days. She rubbed her eyes as she told me of her two grandchildren now living with her, having no other options. Tears fell from mine as I imagined her pain- and as I remembered my own. When she finished her story, we paused and I told her I couldn’t imagine her experience. I then told her about my own grief- my own recent loss and while losing a grandmother who had lived a long, wonderful life could not compare to losing a child, I also was grieving. She asked what happened and as I explained to her my Granny’s rapid deterioration in July and her passing just a week before I left for South Africa, I struggled to speak. Suddenly, she stood up, pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in a massive embrace holding me until I could breathe deeply and calmly again.
Who could have expected that scene? Grieving South African mother holding grieving American granddaughter. I certainly didn’t expect that the first person here that I would completely open my broken heart to would be a sweet woman like Eunice who I had just met.
It is sometimes said “God works in mysterious ways”. I am finding more and more that this is true in that God rarely works as we expect. Too often, we pray about our problems with a solution in mind; thinking we know what is best for ourselves. However, God more often works through the unexpected things in our lives. It’s written in 1 Corinthians 1:27-28 “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring about things that are.” God doesn’t use what we expect God to use. We see power in what is already strong, but God sees power in what is weak and then makes it strong to display God’s power.
These past few months, I undoubtedly have experienced God working through unexpected people and unexpected circumstances to bring about change in my life and in the lives of those around me. So, as I learn each day to expect the unexpected, I continually am reminded that in this way, we must make room for the Spirit to move through our lives. Making time to willingly engage in that unexpected conversation, or embracing unanticipated circumstances that threaten to “ruin” our day… these are the first steps we can take towards being free to experience the unexpected and the closer we come to truly opening our hearts to those around us. You never know what to expect!
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