just a quick note to report that we've made it to Mumbai, India, and we're staying with my friend Manju's uncle's pastor's family just outside the city in Kalyan. heather is trying to recover from a stomach bug (picked up in Madagascar, we think), and i'm getting over another small sinus cold... while both of us are managing to adjust to the extreme humidity (relative to southern Africa but not to where we're headed further south in India).
we're also eating glorious food prepared by the pastor's wife, Gracey, and trying to catch up a bit on emails at a nearby cybercafe before we head back "home," past a drum ensemble celebrating the end of a recent idol-worshipping Hindu holiday: Ganesh Cathurthi (the elephant-headed god of prosperity and wisdom is immersed in the sea in a ritual "originally promoted by freedom-fighters to circumvent British anti-assembly legislation" (Rough Guide 2005).
tonight we're going to a "prayer meeting" (type of house-worship) and then to a dinner (around 10 pm!) with Manju's precious family... by Monday, we'll head down the west coast (maybe by way of a coastal route) to Cochin/Kochi.
one interesting note is how inquisitive Indians are (even our hosts' neighbor commented on that)... only 2.5 days into our stay in India, and everyone is already asking us how we like it, how it's different, if we're accustomed to eating with our hand (right only), etc...
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
if only, "mora mora" (slowly, slowly)
Eleven days is not nearly enough time to learn about, let alone adjust to a place, but I think it might just barely be enough time to get a small taste of the life, culture & incredible biodiversity here in Madagascar... Fortunately, we managed to have a somewhat diverse experience, given the short time and our limited funds, but unlike many foreigners who come here on holiday or on business, we did not spend all kinds of money to go on expensive tours, rent 4x4s, hire personal drivers, trample (too much) along the increasingly trodden tourist path between all the amazing national parks and pristine beaches, invest in the world's largest production of vanilla, or strip the land of its plethora of precious gems, metals and other natural resources... Instead, we stayed with 2 different families in the nation's capital (Antananarivo, or “Tana”), we met up with a few incredible Peace Corps volunteers, we packed into several very tight and deteriorating “taxi-brousses” (the public transportation much like the minivan-type buses of Mozambique, Malawi and South Africa, only they generally they board from the rear door), we took a short “vacation” in the glorious bungalows of Hotel Feon'ny Ala (or "song of the forest") outside of Andasibe (between Tana and the east coast), and we hiked through rain forests of Analamazaotra, Mitsinjo and Parc aux Orchidees (home to much more than the 6 lemur species, 3 gecko species, 5 bird species, 1 snake species, 2 spider species, 2 beetle species and 8 wild orchid species that we saw).
This quick pace and little time in each place is one of my biggest challenges in trying to keep up this blog. Aside from our rather limited access to cyberspace, I don't always know what to say and what not to say about a given place. As a cultural anthropologist at heart, I'm afraid of making any grandiose generalizations about a group of the people or painting such a minute picture of a particular landscape, especially since our experiences are so limited...
Unfortunately, though, that's the nature of this trip — we just don't have enough time to stay put... Nevertheless, I think we're still getting a good global perspective. Thanks to our hosts (e.g. missionaries, old friends, new friends, 2nd/3rd/4th degree friends, random other contacts), to the means by which we're introduced to them (e.g. Heather's call to do youth ministry, our online research, gracious passers-by, friends and family) and to our God-given ability to keep our eyes, ears and hearts open to the world around us.
Speaking of which, I suppose the only picture I can paint includes my first and lasting impressions of this place... even though I risk defining a place by the 2% I've seen:
• The Malagasy don't regard themselves as Africans, per se, but rather as "island people" -- both in culture and in attitude. They are extremely polite and kind-hearted, but they are somewhat reserved. "Politeness in general is very important[...], and impatience or pushy behaviour is regarded as shocking" (Lonely Planet 2004). We've noticed that men seem to help out a little more than in the other African nations we've visited, and the women are mostly seen as the dynamic force in the society.
• Extremely tight streets, alleyways, parking spaces and traffic "lanes" with virtually no fear of hitting something or being hit, and no city planning other than the feudal-like placement of the Queen's Palace overlooking all her town's people and their decreasingly scattered rice fields around Tana.
• Hints of a declining European culture and architecture (mostly French) like terraces, hanging plants, shudders, steep-shingled roofs, cobble stone streets, and excessive cigarette smoking... amid obvious elements of a severely underdeveloped nation (one of the poorest standards of living in Africa), like simple wooden shacks with tin roofs, some menial subsistence farming, a desperation to sell anything and everything on the street, a need to fit in the most you can pack in before going anywhere (otherwise you could wait hours to leave)... and so much more.
• Not a single functioning streetlight in the nation's capital -- all traffic (auto, bike, foot, rickshaw, ox cart, zebu and wheelbarrow) just flows, and everyone moves in cooperation with each other -- yielding, sneaking in and stopping occasionally (or when there's a rarely seen traffic cop).
• Everything "touristy" is 200x more expensive for non-natives, probably because their average income is only US$250 per year.
• All Malagasy adoptions are currently on hold because of a recently-uncovered scandal of people overseas trafficking children's organs on the blackmarket of medicine.
• Famadihana: a ceremonial exhumation and reburial of dead relatives every 2 to 7 years in the highlands region... the stone door of a family tomb is opened and one by one the corpses are brought out of the tomb, wrapped in straw mats and danced above the heads joyfully. The bodies are re-wrapped in pristine white burial scarves, sprayed with perfume and meticulously labelled by name with felt-tip pens... Joyous music and celebration is followed by solemn and quiet memorial before dancing around a bit more with the bound bodies and laying them to rest in the tomb again.
This quick pace and little time in each place is one of my biggest challenges in trying to keep up this blog. Aside from our rather limited access to cyberspace, I don't always know what to say and what not to say about a given place. As a cultural anthropologist at heart, I'm afraid of making any grandiose generalizations about a group of the people or painting such a minute picture of a particular landscape, especially since our experiences are so limited...
Unfortunately, though, that's the nature of this trip — we just don't have enough time to stay put... Nevertheless, I think we're still getting a good global perspective. Thanks to our hosts (e.g. missionaries, old friends, new friends, 2nd/3rd/4th degree friends, random other contacts), to the means by which we're introduced to them (e.g. Heather's call to do youth ministry, our online research, gracious passers-by, friends and family) and to our God-given ability to keep our eyes, ears and hearts open to the world around us.
Speaking of which, I suppose the only picture I can paint includes my first and lasting impressions of this place... even though I risk defining a place by the 2% I've seen:
• The Malagasy don't regard themselves as Africans, per se, but rather as "island people" -- both in culture and in attitude. They are extremely polite and kind-hearted, but they are somewhat reserved. "Politeness in general is very important[...], and impatience or pushy behaviour is regarded as shocking" (Lonely Planet 2004). We've noticed that men seem to help out a little more than in the other African nations we've visited, and the women are mostly seen as the dynamic force in the society.
• Extremely tight streets, alleyways, parking spaces and traffic "lanes" with virtually no fear of hitting something or being hit, and no city planning other than the feudal-like placement of the Queen's Palace overlooking all her town's people and their decreasingly scattered rice fields around Tana.
• Hints of a declining European culture and architecture (mostly French) like terraces, hanging plants, shudders, steep-shingled roofs, cobble stone streets, and excessive cigarette smoking... amid obvious elements of a severely underdeveloped nation (one of the poorest standards of living in Africa), like simple wooden shacks with tin roofs, some menial subsistence farming, a desperation to sell anything and everything on the street, a need to fit in the most you can pack in before going anywhere (otherwise you could wait hours to leave)... and so much more.
• Not a single functioning streetlight in the nation's capital -- all traffic (auto, bike, foot, rickshaw, ox cart, zebu and wheelbarrow) just flows, and everyone moves in cooperation with each other -- yielding, sneaking in and stopping occasionally (or when there's a rarely seen traffic cop).
• Everything "touristy" is 200x more expensive for non-natives, probably because their average income is only US$250 per year.
• All Malagasy adoptions are currently on hold because of a recently-uncovered scandal of people overseas trafficking children's organs on the blackmarket of medicine.
• Famadihana: a ceremonial exhumation and reburial of dead relatives every 2 to 7 years in the highlands region... the stone door of a family tomb is opened and one by one the corpses are brought out of the tomb, wrapped in straw mats and danced above the heads joyfully. The bodies are re-wrapped in pristine white burial scarves, sprayed with perfume and meticulously labelled by name with felt-tip pens... Joyous music and celebration is followed by solemn and quiet memorial before dancing around a bit more with the bound bodies and laying them to rest in the tomb again.
Well, there's so much more I could say, but I'm too tired to think anymore right now and I've got to get packed and ready to leave for India tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
south africa: a complex rainbow nation
in just 6 weeks, we've visited the 3 most populous areas of south africa (joburg/pretoria, durban/pietermartizburg, cape town/stellenbosch) as well as some stretches by land between places... however, in good-old-fashion-hope style, i'm just now posting something (as we're leaving for the next leg of our trip into madagascar), because i'm still wrapping my head around it all... there are so many misconceptions, misperceptions and interesting complexities about this "dark continent" and about this 1st-world/3rd-world collision known as South Africa that it would take a lifetime to unravel and explain them all... so i'll just name a few that come to mind.
the streets of johannesburg are not paved with gold, but during the gold rush in the late 1800s many fortune seekers streamed into the country thinking that they'd find gold as well as a new and better way of life... today, the influx of immigrants hasn't ceased. people come from all over sub-Saharan Africa, especially from the neighboring countries like the economically distraught country of Zimbabwe, seeking a new beginning.
the result: "a robust blend of nations, races, cultures and languages"* which give South Africa its unique character, incredible complexity and persevering energy.
on the other hand: the grass may seem greener, but it's definitely not equipped to serve the needs of the millions crossing over. these and other "hopefuls" do, sell, hand out or beg for whatever they can on the streets, but many of those who cannot escape poverty (or grips of their vices) turn to violent crime. in fact, almost everyone in johannesburg either directly knows someone or they themselves have been victims of violent crime... it's no wonder joburg is known as one of the world's capitals of violent crime.*
another "developmental" paradox can be found in striking division between races and socio-economic classes here... as a result of colonization and then the inhumane suppression of non-whites. for example, "[historically,] slums were seen by many in white society as giving rise to a multitude of evils. they 'detribalised' black people and denationalised & 'deracialised' the white population. for whites, mixing was supposed to lead to physical, mental and moral degeneration..." this misconception inevitably set the stage for apartheid ("a system of segregation or discrimination of grounds of race in force in South Africa" 1948-1991, Apartheid Museum).
thankfully, segregation is no more and this division is dissipating, but the psychological and spiritual scars run deep... as do the physical scars. in other words, the physical division remains intact in many places because most non-whites have no choice (economically) but to continue living in the shantytowns they were forced to live in the first place. [heather and i spent some time visiting with folks in the following townships: soweto of johannesburg, soshanguve of pretoria, haniville of pietermartizburg, kayamandi of stellenbosch and mbekweni of paarl.] with little to no infrastructure, fires continually break out among shacks and people attempt to protest but still lose everything.
this is just one example of this 1st-world/3rd-world collision in south africa, but the list could go on and on... to include discouraging and ill-fated news of their alcoholic and kleptomaniac minister of health, their ex-deputy president "showering to avoid HIV"* or the deterioration of values due to incessant unemployment, drug/alcohol abuse, sexual violence and blatant inequality in schools*... watch the short south african TV series Yizo Yizo for a provocative depiction of urban youth in townships today.
the streets of johannesburg are not paved with gold, but during the gold rush in the late 1800s many fortune seekers streamed into the country thinking that they'd find gold as well as a new and better way of life... today, the influx of immigrants hasn't ceased. people come from all over sub-Saharan Africa, especially from the neighboring countries like the economically distraught country of Zimbabwe, seeking a new beginning.
the result: "a robust blend of nations, races, cultures and languages"* which give South Africa its unique character, incredible complexity and persevering energy.
on the other hand: the grass may seem greener, but it's definitely not equipped to serve the needs of the millions crossing over. these and other "hopefuls" do, sell, hand out or beg for whatever they can on the streets, but many of those who cannot escape poverty (or grips of their vices) turn to violent crime. in fact, almost everyone in johannesburg either directly knows someone or they themselves have been victims of violent crime... it's no wonder joburg is known as one of the world's capitals of violent crime.*
another "developmental" paradox can be found in striking division between races and socio-economic classes here... as a result of colonization and then the inhumane suppression of non-whites. for example, "[historically,] slums were seen by many in white society as giving rise to a multitude of evils. they 'detribalised' black people and denationalised & 'deracialised' the white population. for whites, mixing was supposed to lead to physical, mental and moral degeneration..." this misconception inevitably set the stage for apartheid ("a system of segregation or discrimination of grounds of race in force in South Africa" 1948-1991, Apartheid Museum).
thankfully, segregation is no more and this division is dissipating, but the psychological and spiritual scars run deep... as do the physical scars. in other words, the physical division remains intact in many places because most non-whites have no choice (economically) but to continue living in the shantytowns they were forced to live in the first place. [heather and i spent some time visiting with folks in the following townships: soweto of johannesburg, soshanguve of pretoria, haniville of pietermartizburg, kayamandi of stellenbosch and mbekweni of paarl.] with little to no infrastructure, fires continually break out among shacks and people attempt to protest but still lose everything.
this is just one example of this 1st-world/3rd-world collision in south africa, but the list could go on and on... to include discouraging and ill-fated news of their alcoholic and kleptomaniac minister of health, their ex-deputy president "showering to avoid HIV"* or the deterioration of values due to incessant unemployment, drug/alcohol abuse, sexual violence and blatant inequality in schools*... watch the short south african TV series Yizo Yizo for a provocative depiction of urban youth in townships today.
on a lighter note…
some random findings:
in joburg in particular, shopping malls are used as geographical landmarks, entertainment sources and grocery outlets. people refer to their location in relation to the nearest mall. parking isn’t free at most of them. and there are always “parking attendants” to look after your car and to help you pull out of your parking space (for a small tip usually)…
if there is a TV (in a less affluent home), it’s almost always on in the background or your hosts will turn it on because they think you want to watch it…
traffic drives on the left, and you can’t turn left on red…
vegetables are not considered part of a balanced meal…
fruits & veggies (in bulk) must be weighed & priced before leaving the produce department of a grocery store. otherwise, the cashier will either send you back or ask the bagger to do it for you. so it’s easier to take the pre-packaged ones... also, plastic grocery bags aren’t free…
“bunni chow,” a well-known south-african-indian dish, is merely a half (or a quarter) loaf of bread hollowed out for a curried stew.
some “coloureds” (mulattos) in the western cape consider it beautiful to have their two front teeth pulled…
as whites, we were often mistaken as afrikaaners, but we just smiled and shrugged our shoulders…
no alcohol is legally sold after store hours, except for at bars and restaurants. if you want to buy some as “take away” (or “to go”), you go to a “she-been” (or unlicensed bar in someone’s house)…
since the law enforcement is so corrupt, cameras have been installed along the highways to automatically issue a ticket (sent in the mail with your photo) if you exceed the speed limit. in fact, in some cases, the cameras will average your speed between more than one location, and if you speed anywhere along the way, you’ll get a ticket for arriving at your destination sooner than you should have following the speed limit…
there are no safety standards for playgrounds or for a child’s car seat…
environmental consciousness is virtually non-existent, because there is little to no infrastructure in most areas to support it (like recycling, trash disposal, public trash cans or even private ones in many places). instead, people might pile it up and burn it… along the same lines, these fires (as well as slash & burn ones) are so common that they often turn wild—forming rings that light up the mountain sides and producing huge billows of smoke that fill the sky.
... there are so many more quirks in south africa, but we've moved on to madagascar now so i'm busy taking in its culture at the moment... the bottom line about south africa is that it's very much like the US, only it's in africa.Sunday, September 02, 2007
evolution & constant challenges of spirit
evolution: "a process of gradual, peaceful, progressive change or development..."; "a motion incomplete in itself, but combining with coordinated motions to produce a single action..." LIFE
everyday is full of unplanned adventure, profound conversations and spiritual & intellectual challenges, and every moment is part of an evolution of my mind and faith... so, since i'm finding it difficult to capture it in a story or moment in time, i will merely list the series of recent events (in South Africa) in my journey of faith.
• heartbreak: letting go of the past
• theophostics session with cecile: uncovering and forgiving my past through prayer, finding a completeness in God
• nieu communities: intentional living, getting to know God, creating relationships as ministry, and finding some peace
• networking: God-incidentally (not coincidentally), we're discovering an incredible web of new friends and family... beginning with meeting our new south african friend karien murray at iSight (an EPC mission church in Black Mountain, NC) a week before we left the States. through her we've thankfully met so many others:
-her sister & brother-in-law (Joburg) -> SAAWE -> Kids Games -> SCAS & ISLS (Stellenbosch) -> 60 beautiful people involved in sports ministry from 30 different countries all over the world;
-colin, retief and alycia from 13th Floor (Pretoria)
-her brother & sister-in-law -> an inner-city mission to love and listen to Durban's homeless
• God continues to use us in so many other ways to plant seeds of hope, to love unconditionally, to give time and attention to everyone, and to connect new people we meet with people that we've already met along the way.
• challenged by privilege vs pain, blessing vs circumstance, faith vs fearful discrimination, humility vs stubborn pride/arrogance
• films: beat the drum and shooting dogs... pain and sacrifice
• question: where is God in suffering, disease, genocide, poverty, oppression and unfounded prejudice? how could it be in God's will that all this exist?
• walk in the light: truly feeling the presence of God (from the moment we arrived until the moment we said goodbye), hearing God speak to me through prayer and in conversation with their leaders, then directly confronted with (and challenged by) the reality of SO MANY Africans -- AIDS... Heather describes our experience on her blog.
(then a small break to catch my breath in Cape Town...)
• film: faith like potatoes
• cultural sensitivity training at the International Sports Leadership School in stellenbosch: experiencing God... and also discussing the barriers to knowing God? -- historical (and recent) oppression, the first missionaries, the crusades, the war, the institution of the church, the misperception that Christ is "western God," pluralism, and the caste system (i.e. Christians fall below the "untouchables" in India), among innumerous obstacles... how could anyone (including me) overcome these obstacles?
• attending a memorial of a seventeen-year-old girl who was raped and murdered just two weeks before, friends & family sing Xhosa gospel songs, question: again where is God in this tragedy?, epiphany: many more people will be moved by the Spirit stirring in and around this memorial, than there will be lost by her death.
• AIDS is an unfathomable problem: pride & shame are huge issues, men don't want to use protection, women have no say in the matter, morals are lost, families don't talk about it, people just say it's a "sickness" without discussing the causes, preventions or realities of it, people don't want to test because they'd rather live in ignorance, even those people who get as far as receiving medication have trouble taking the meds on a consistent basis... there are no boundaries, especially amid fatalistic circumstances (watch beat the drum and read 28: stories of AIDS in africa by Stephanie Nolen)
• aftermath of apartheid (or "murder" as someone told us today): racial prejudice is rampant and ingrained in the culture, White vs. Black vs. Asian (mostly Indian) vs. "Colored" (south Africa's label for "mixed race"), the government went from white supremacy to black superiority but continues to deny the gravity of this recent history as well as the rights of "coloreds" and asians... i can't claim to ever really understand fully, but it's extremely troubling to talk with people from each group and hear their stories, their fears, their misperceptions, their anger, their animosity, their hatred and their pain concerning each other.
• we are not alone, we are nothing alone -- there is always hope in God and in the profound completeness of Christ's love and sacrifice.
(finally, another small break to catch my breath and taste some wine at vineyards around Paarl...)
everyday is full of unplanned adventure, profound conversations and spiritual & intellectual challenges, and every moment is part of an evolution of my mind and faith... so, since i'm finding it difficult to capture it in a story or moment in time, i will merely list the series of recent events (in South Africa) in my journey of faith.
• heartbreak: letting go of the past
• theophostics session with cecile: uncovering and forgiving my past through prayer, finding a completeness in God
• nieu communities: intentional living, getting to know God, creating relationships as ministry, and finding some peace
• networking: God-incidentally (not coincidentally), we're discovering an incredible web of new friends and family... beginning with meeting our new south african friend karien murray at iSight (an EPC mission church in Black Mountain, NC) a week before we left the States. through her we've thankfully met so many others:
-her sister & brother-in-law (Joburg) -> SAAWE -> Kids Games -> SCAS & ISLS (Stellenbosch) -> 60 beautiful people involved in sports ministry from 30 different countries all over the world;
-colin, retief and alycia from 13th Floor (Pretoria)
-her brother & sister-in-law -> an inner-city mission to love and listen to Durban's homeless
• God continues to use us in so many other ways to plant seeds of hope, to love unconditionally, to give time and attention to everyone, and to connect new people we meet with people that we've already met along the way.
• challenged by privilege vs pain, blessing vs circumstance, faith vs fearful discrimination, humility vs stubborn pride/arrogance
• films: beat the drum and shooting dogs... pain and sacrifice
• question: where is God in suffering, disease, genocide, poverty, oppression and unfounded prejudice? how could it be in God's will that all this exist?
• walk in the light: truly feeling the presence of God (from the moment we arrived until the moment we said goodbye), hearing God speak to me through prayer and in conversation with their leaders, then directly confronted with (and challenged by) the reality of SO MANY Africans -- AIDS... Heather describes our experience on her blog.
(then a small break to catch my breath in Cape Town...)
• film: faith like potatoes
• cultural sensitivity training at the International Sports Leadership School in stellenbosch: experiencing God... and also discussing the barriers to knowing God? -- historical (and recent) oppression, the first missionaries, the crusades, the war, the institution of the church, the misperception that Christ is "western God," pluralism, and the caste system (i.e. Christians fall below the "untouchables" in India), among innumerous obstacles... how could anyone (including me) overcome these obstacles?
• attending a memorial of a seventeen-year-old girl who was raped and murdered just two weeks before, friends & family sing Xhosa gospel songs, question: again where is God in this tragedy?, epiphany: many more people will be moved by the Spirit stirring in and around this memorial, than there will be lost by her death.
• AIDS is an unfathomable problem: pride & shame are huge issues, men don't want to use protection, women have no say in the matter, morals are lost, families don't talk about it, people just say it's a "sickness" without discussing the causes, preventions or realities of it, people don't want to test because they'd rather live in ignorance, even those people who get as far as receiving medication have trouble taking the meds on a consistent basis... there are no boundaries, especially amid fatalistic circumstances (watch beat the drum and read 28: stories of AIDS in africa by Stephanie Nolen)
• aftermath of apartheid (or "murder" as someone told us today): racial prejudice is rampant and ingrained in the culture, White vs. Black vs. Asian (mostly Indian) vs. "Colored" (south Africa's label for "mixed race"), the government went from white supremacy to black superiority but continues to deny the gravity of this recent history as well as the rights of "coloreds" and asians... i can't claim to ever really understand fully, but it's extremely troubling to talk with people from each group and hear their stories, their fears, their misperceptions, their anger, their animosity, their hatred and their pain concerning each other.
• we are not alone, we are nothing alone -- there is always hope in God and in the profound completeness of Christ's love and sacrifice.
(finally, another small break to catch my breath and taste some wine at vineyards around Paarl...)
Friday, August 24, 2007
changes and nieu beginnings
there’s nothing like a couple weeks of intense spiritual reflection — (re)ignited by emotional distress, broken by mental anguish, delayed by stubborn individualism, plagued by doubt, and then freed by love and confirmed by grace — to stun the soul and create writer’s block… thank God for Heather and her ability to continue capturing the story of our trip and of the amazing people that we’ve met along the way, because i’ve been busy trying to think through, understand, accept, trust and believe how everything fits together into this Process and precious gift called my life.
in fact, i knew this trip would be a journey of a lifetime, but i didn’t know how, where, when or why it would take me... i still don’t know completely, but that’s really what life is about —
a discovery of purpose and truth.
here are only a few elements of my recent journey and discovery:
• it takes a delicate balance to go on a journey like this with someone else, but Heather and I make a great team: accompanying each other on this adventure; caring for each other when sick; taking turns doing the wash, cleaning up, preparing food, carrying the day pack and explaining our trip to others; knowing each other’s strengths & weaknesses; lending each other an open ear and/or open arms when in need; and loving each other unconditionally and patiently… fortunately, as sisters and as each other’s best friend, we already know each other’s needs, desires, fears, habits and abilities, so it makes it easier to support each other in the ways that we need it most.
• nothing is in my control and nothing can be planned out the way i'd want it to be (as a logistical, organized, analytical project-manager type)... that's the nature of our trip, though. we don't know our every step; we only know one step at a time... and that's the way God designed it — to learn how to let go and have faith in the divine scheme of things... in others, in the circumstances, in the travel logistics, in the plan for where we're going & who we're meeting, in my past, in my present and in my future.
• life, love and growing in faith is about relationships, not about religion, doctrine, history or what society demands. i never want to stop learning this, but more recently, i've thought about it in conversation with folks at Tshwane Leadership Foundation (Pretoria), at Nieu Communities South Africa (at Pangani and in Soshanguve, near Pretoria), from 13th Floor (Pretoria), from Kids Games, at Walk in the Light (Haniville township, outside Pietermartizburg), at Africa Enterprise (innercity Pietermartizburg) and with Isinkwa Setheku (an innercity ministry to Durban's homeless)... and even in reflection from learning about David Heimann's pilgrimage for the Catholic church (even though we just barely missed him at Pangani).
can you see why i might feel overwhelmed? this has been a rollercoaster of a trip — physically and spiritually.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
i stand corrected... it's out of respect
before too long, i learned to accept being excitedly called “azungu” everywhere we went by smiling and responding with “ntu” (people). i mean, i can’t deny or hide the fact that i’m white, and it’s crippling to let guilt keep me from being happy, so why not return the cheerful greeting, right?
at the same time, though, it wasn’t as easy to accept any special treatment that we seemed to receive, like when we went out to Selengo and later to Mponela (2 rural villages, each with a Ministry of Hope feeding center for the orphans and vulnerable children). on both occasions, we (the visiting guests) were asked to sit in chairs and eat inside the office, rather than being able to eat outside with the children. as you might imagine, heather and i preferred to sit among the people instead of eating off on our own somewhere, but we quickly learned that it’s a sign of respect that all guests (no matter their origin) should sit and eat indoors… so, out of respect for our hosts, we did what was expected of us even though this “special” treatment made us uncomfortable.
there are a few interesting and noteworthy signs of respect, however, that we noticed, used and felt good about sharing with others. for example:
· you always greet each & every person in a particular setting by saying hello and asking how each person is (no matter how many people ask those same people before you).
· as you extend your right hand to shake someone’s hand (that you respect), your left hand holds your right forearm just in front of the elbow.
· if you pass by an elder (typically an elder woman who might be carrying stuff on her head) while walking along a path out in “the bush” or even through a rural village, you softly & repeatedly claps your hands as you ask how she is, in passing.
· if you need to speak with someone, you approach quietly and wait at a distance (perhaps even kneeling down) until you’re noticed by the requested party.
· “washing” your hands before a meal (especially since everyone eats with their hands): one of the hosts (typically the woman) pours a pitcher of water over each person’s hands and into a small basin.
then there are some interesting cultural norms that you might not expect, like:
· helping yourself to whatever food you want without asking
· showing up unannounced
· sweeping & mopping everything once or twice a day but then dumping everything in an open-air landfill in the backyard
· event-oriented schedules instead of time-oriented ones
· no response to a sneeze
· being quick to translate (in a public speech) but not necessarily quick to understand (one-on-one)(makes you wonder how much of the message was really relayed)
· road blocks for no apparent reason
· “airtime” sold in units for cellphones as well as land-lines
· free-range goats (galore!)
· public wedding announcements at church and on TV (because everyone’s invited to everyone’s wedding here)…
the list could go on and on, but i can’t. i’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
at the same time, though, it wasn’t as easy to accept any special treatment that we seemed to receive, like when we went out to Selengo and later to Mponela (2 rural villages, each with a Ministry of Hope feeding center for the orphans and vulnerable children). on both occasions, we (the visiting guests) were asked to sit in chairs and eat inside the office, rather than being able to eat outside with the children. as you might imagine, heather and i preferred to sit among the people instead of eating off on our own somewhere, but we quickly learned that it’s a sign of respect that all guests (no matter their origin) should sit and eat indoors… so, out of respect for our hosts, we did what was expected of us even though this “special” treatment made us uncomfortable.
there are a few interesting and noteworthy signs of respect, however, that we noticed, used and felt good about sharing with others. for example:
· you always greet each & every person in a particular setting by saying hello and asking how each person is (no matter how many people ask those same people before you).
· as you extend your right hand to shake someone’s hand (that you respect), your left hand holds your right forearm just in front of the elbow.
· if you pass by an elder (typically an elder woman who might be carrying stuff on her head) while walking along a path out in “the bush” or even through a rural village, you softly & repeatedly claps your hands as you ask how she is, in passing.
· if you need to speak with someone, you approach quietly and wait at a distance (perhaps even kneeling down) until you’re noticed by the requested party.
· “washing” your hands before a meal (especially since everyone eats with their hands): one of the hosts (typically the woman) pours a pitcher of water over each person’s hands and into a small basin.
then there are some interesting cultural norms that you might not expect, like:
· helping yourself to whatever food you want without asking
· showing up unannounced
· sweeping & mopping everything once or twice a day but then dumping everything in an open-air landfill in the backyard
· event-oriented schedules instead of time-oriented ones
· no response to a sneeze
· being quick to translate (in a public speech) but not necessarily quick to understand (one-on-one)(makes you wonder how much of the message was really relayed)
· road blocks for no apparent reason
· “airtime” sold in units for cellphones as well as land-lines
· free-range goats (galore!)
· public wedding announcements at church and on TV (because everyone’s invited to everyone’s wedding here)…
the list could go on and on, but i can’t. i’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
you don’t know what you don’t know.
i can still see my 9th grade social studies teacher now (a short, older woman with a boisterous and wicked personality), narrowing her eyelids, shaking her little finger at us and continually repeating, “You all just don't know what you don't know.”
i always knew in my mind (and agreed) that what she warned us was true, but it’s always humbling to re-discover that fact first-hand, when you find that first perceptions of the unknown need to be constantly re-evaluated… in fact, that (re)discovery is exactly what this trip is about for me: an ever-evolving re-evaluating drastically-expanding positively-shaping challenging worldview.
actually, it’s quite a freeing experience to truly accept the fact that you don't know what you don't know, because that’s when you can lift the cloud of cynicism and develop enough cultural sensitivity to accept the differences without being critical or over analytical of them (or their social, political or historical contexts).
so by taking this huge leap into the unknown, i’m learning to look, listen, carefully ask questions, observe some more, trust God in this (my) Process, and keep myself in check when it comes to judging others for what they do (& why).
in fact, the more i (re)discover about this world around me, the more excited i get about being out in it, exploring it for myself, and taking full advantage of this incredibly unique opportunity… in fact, i refuse to let guilt (obligation, privilege), fear (the unknown), materialism (attachments, acquisition) or acceptance by others (and approval) be the driving forces behind what makes me do what i do… the only driving force that i want to accept is that unmeasurable, unexplainable, positive & personal urge that bubbles up from depths of my soul, aka God, and the love that controls it, aka divine will.
that’s why i do what i do… that’s why i’m on this trip… that’s what helps me accept the fact that i just don’t know what i don’t know.
i always knew in my mind (and agreed) that what she warned us was true, but it’s always humbling to re-discover that fact first-hand, when you find that first perceptions of the unknown need to be constantly re-evaluated… in fact, that (re)discovery is exactly what this trip is about for me: an ever-evolving re-evaluating drastically-expanding positively-shaping challenging worldview.
actually, it’s quite a freeing experience to truly accept the fact that you don't know what you don't know, because that’s when you can lift the cloud of cynicism and develop enough cultural sensitivity to accept the differences without being critical or over analytical of them (or their social, political or historical contexts).
so by taking this huge leap into the unknown, i’m learning to look, listen, carefully ask questions, observe some more, trust God in this (my) Process, and keep myself in check when it comes to judging others for what they do (& why).
in fact, the more i (re)discover about this world around me, the more excited i get about being out in it, exploring it for myself, and taking full advantage of this incredibly unique opportunity… in fact, i refuse to let guilt (obligation, privilege), fear (the unknown), materialism (attachments, acquisition) or acceptance by others (and approval) be the driving forces behind what makes me do what i do… the only driving force that i want to accept is that unmeasurable, unexplainable, positive & personal urge that bubbles up from depths of my soul, aka God, and the love that controls it, aka divine will.
that’s why i do what i do… that’s why i’m on this trip… that’s what helps me accept the fact that i just don’t know what i don’t know.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
the warm heart of Africa
with a landmass only the size of Pennsylvania, Malawi cradles the third largest lake in Africa. most of the terrain we've seen (only in the Central region) is red dirt carpeted by dried grass and sprinkled with palms, fruit trees, huge baobab trees and other various deciduous trees that you might find in a semi-arid climate. in the rainy season, it's hot and the earth floods, and rural people who risk settling in the lower elevations lose everything -- their grey or red clay-brick homes with grass-thatched roofs, their goats or cattle, and their crops... right now, though, it's dry and quite mild in temperature.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.
another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)
as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
take courage
at the end of her two-and-a-half-month stay in Malawi, our new friend Brittany shared with us this very insightful quote from Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis (170), and since suffering (in its many forms) has been weighing quite a bit on my mind lately, i thought i'd share it here, too.
"Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need -- hope that comes not from going around suffering but from going through it."
"Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need -- hope that comes not from going around suffering but from going through it."
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Maputo back to Joburg and onto Lilongwe
whether it's serving at a ministry for boys that live on the street (as i mentioned previously) or it's visiting a small orphanage, school and community church outside of town (as we did our last day in Maputo), i suppose my perspectives, my world view, my critiques and my faith will be challenged throughout this trip... so i've decided to surrender to myself to the Present, soak in each incredible experience, enjoy the opportunities that arise on this journey, and learn to trust God in the Process... that's where my personal journal and reflecting comes in.
as for our time in Mozambique, it was short but very sweet. our North Carolina friend Lisa hooked us up with great contacts, wonderful experiences and an incredible place to stay (in an old portuguese-style mansion with missionaries henrick and madalena). heather describes our time there in great detail, but there a few other things worth mentioning...
like the morning that 2 police officers stopped us on the street to have a look at our passports. i was already stressed-out about our then unsecured travel plans to Malawi, so the last thing i wanted was to deal with government officials absconding our passports and/or wanting bribes in return (not that that would happen but a valid fear here nevertheless)... my heart raced as heather handed them over, and my mind busily conjured up a defense to pose in portuguese, if the situation would have turned to that... fortunately, it didn't, and the officers eventually gave our passports back to us. (we later found out that the gov't issued a new immigration policy, so non-nationals were being stopped & checked more frequently.)
then, there was our visit to the Maputo Central Market with matthais (a friend and fellow missionary of henrick). from the moment we arrived, we were inundated with offers from all kinds of people wanting to watch our car for us while we passed through the market or trying to sell us the goods that they carried with them (sunglasses, cologne, african tapestries, pineapples, magnets, pirated DVD movies). heather got a kick out of it, but i just got annoyed and felt much less likely to buy anything anyway...
the same sort of thing happened when we went to the Saturday morning craft market--a small square lined with beautiful Batik tapestries, wooden & soap-stone carvings, some jewelry and paintings, among other crafts, and bustling with capitalists and consumers a like. it was impossible to walk through without being invited to "come closer" or desperately offered "a very good price." lucky for heather, she didn't understand what they said; however, since i understood, i felt bad ignoring them or asking them to just let us browse the market in peace... again, i know for a fact that this scene is something we'll come across all over the world, so i better get used to it.
as for Maputo, according to a few of our new friends there, it is a very different city than it was just 7 years ago when the rainfall and flood waters almost completely covered all of Mozambique. before that, it was a simple town with little infrastructure (though the streets are still plagued with potholes) and less police enforcement (though crime is on the rise). during the flood relief, though, many people supposedly took advantage of the government's "open door" to the influx of goods & services, so in came TVs, cars and whatever people could get their hands on... from there, the city began to grow more steadily. although, there is still some reminisce of the portuguese colonization, like the language, the 2-kiss greeting or farewell, and the relaxed atmosphere... however, it's interesting to note that there are fewer white nationals and more derelict colonial architecture than you would find in the neighboring countries like South Africa or Swaziland, because when Mozambique declared independence, the portuguese supposedly just dropped everything and left the country... in fact, almost all the white folks you see there today either work for an NGO, serve as missionaries or stay for a short time as tourists.
anyway, on monday, we left in a hurry because we managed to catch a lift back to Joburg with some random missionary folks that we met through our host madalena... and, in Joburg, we stayed with some amazing 3rd-degree friends of heather's. through them (and truly by the grace of God), we made some more incredible contacts, most of whom we plan to connect with when we return from Malawi... and one of which had a huge impact on me when we sat in on a Bible study with them.
in the meantime, we've just arrived at the Ministry of Hope in Lilongwe (by plane and chauffer from the airport just before the president of Malawi arrived by his own jet and escort)... so it may take me a few days or so to sum up what it's like here... stay tuned.
as for our time in Mozambique, it was short but very sweet. our North Carolina friend Lisa hooked us up with great contacts, wonderful experiences and an incredible place to stay (in an old portuguese-style mansion with missionaries henrick and madalena). heather describes our time there in great detail, but there a few other things worth mentioning...
like the morning that 2 police officers stopped us on the street to have a look at our passports. i was already stressed-out about our then unsecured travel plans to Malawi, so the last thing i wanted was to deal with government officials absconding our passports and/or wanting bribes in return (not that that would happen but a valid fear here nevertheless)... my heart raced as heather handed them over, and my mind busily conjured up a defense to pose in portuguese, if the situation would have turned to that... fortunately, it didn't, and the officers eventually gave our passports back to us. (we later found out that the gov't issued a new immigration policy, so non-nationals were being stopped & checked more frequently.)
then, there was our visit to the Maputo Central Market with matthais (a friend and fellow missionary of henrick). from the moment we arrived, we were inundated with offers from all kinds of people wanting to watch our car for us while we passed through the market or trying to sell us the goods that they carried with them (sunglasses, cologne, african tapestries, pineapples, magnets, pirated DVD movies). heather got a kick out of it, but i just got annoyed and felt much less likely to buy anything anyway...
the same sort of thing happened when we went to the Saturday morning craft market--a small square lined with beautiful Batik tapestries, wooden & soap-stone carvings, some jewelry and paintings, among other crafts, and bustling with capitalists and consumers a like. it was impossible to walk through without being invited to "come closer" or desperately offered "a very good price." lucky for heather, she didn't understand what they said; however, since i understood, i felt bad ignoring them or asking them to just let us browse the market in peace... again, i know for a fact that this scene is something we'll come across all over the world, so i better get used to it.
as for Maputo, according to a few of our new friends there, it is a very different city than it was just 7 years ago when the rainfall and flood waters almost completely covered all of Mozambique. before that, it was a simple town with little infrastructure (though the streets are still plagued with potholes) and less police enforcement (though crime is on the rise). during the flood relief, though, many people supposedly took advantage of the government's "open door" to the influx of goods & services, so in came TVs, cars and whatever people could get their hands on... from there, the city began to grow more steadily. although, there is still some reminisce of the portuguese colonization, like the language, the 2-kiss greeting or farewell, and the relaxed atmosphere... however, it's interesting to note that there are fewer white nationals and more derelict colonial architecture than you would find in the neighboring countries like South Africa or Swaziland, because when Mozambique declared independence, the portuguese supposedly just dropped everything and left the country... in fact, almost all the white folks you see there today either work for an NGO, serve as missionaries or stay for a short time as tourists.
anyway, on monday, we left in a hurry because we managed to catch a lift back to Joburg with some random missionary folks that we met through our host madalena... and, in Joburg, we stayed with some amazing 3rd-degree friends of heather's. through them (and truly by the grace of God), we made some more incredible contacts, most of whom we plan to connect with when we return from Malawi... and one of which had a huge impact on me when we sat in on a Bible study with them.
in the meantime, we've just arrived at the Ministry of Hope in Lilongwe (by plane and chauffer from the airport just before the president of Malawi arrived by his own jet and escort)... so it may take me a few days or so to sum up what it's like here... stay tuned.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
on the move: Soweto to Maputo
only 10 days into our journey and i still feel a little overwhelmed... by the travel logistics, by the safe-guarding/trusting of others, by the technological limitations (like no phone, no computer, no time online & plenty of internet cafe security restrictions uploading photos, etc)... and, most of all, by the "how to" record all the sights, sounds and smells of everything here... as an outsider, all i can do is observe and describe what i see on the surface, what i learn from others here (native and foreign), and what we are doing with our time. we don't have time to become socio-cultural experts everywhere we go, but i so desperately want to paint a mental picture of these places... i know my sister has done well to describe our comings and goings, so i don't want to have to repeat everything... i just hope i can fill in some of the blanks here.
soweto: "south western townships" of joburg, a.k.a., the area of town to where the Afrikaner gov't forced the black South Africans to move (into neighborhoods according to their native tribes) outside legally-designated white areas... watch Amandla! or read/watch The Power of One to get a small idea of what took place during apartheid.
highlights of our visit there: visiting with Mutodi's family, seeing where Nelson Mandela used to live, stopping in for a few beers at Georgie's (a local "shebeen" or unlicensed bar in the back of someone's house in Zone 1 of the Meadowlands), and hearing the choir practice & touring the Regina Mundi Church (center of the revolution against apartheid), where there are still bullet holes in the windows as well as a marble alter broken by the butt of police officer's rifle... the energy of this place was a little intense--positive but powerful. you could really feel it.
from joburg, we took a Greyhound bus east through the south african border to the mozambique border. thankfully greeted by our American friend Lisa and her co-worker, we got a ride to Maputo from there. for our first border crossing of the trip, it was a little chaotic (long lines out the door, everyone wanting to get through quickly, bustling immigration officers, local guys illegally trying to make some money by helping to expedite the immigration process for foreigners, kids selling cold beverages outside, customs agents looking through everything, buses with trailers, trucks, mini-buses (or "chapas") loaded with luggage, crazy traffic and seemingly little order to everything), but it went relatively smooth--thanks to our Greyhound "hostess" who guided us through it and told us exactly what to do... it was a little stressful (especially when we handed over our passports and I wasn't sure when/if we'd get them back), but we made it.
now in mozambique, it's been nice to use & practice my portuguese... especially for Heather's sake. on tuesday and wednesday, we hung out at a local church outreach for street boys (called Masana, or Light), where Heather facilitated some games like circle dodge ball, "follow the leader" and a blind-folded "trust walk." it was fun but it really challenged my perspectives around our trip again... i'll have to think about how to capture that all later, but my time online is about to run out.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
landed in Joburg
Stressed and scrambling until the very last minute, we finally made it to the CLT airport (thanks to our wonderful parents) and said our goodbyes. After we checked our luggage and went through security, I realized that I still had my nice camping knife on me. Fortunately, a nice TSA woman let me return to the United desk, whose attendants pulled and re-checked my luggage with the knife… Phew… Only in North Carolina… I sure learned my lesson. Good thing we got that out of the way.
Now, after an 18-hour journey, 2 glasses of wine, a viewing of the movie Amazing Grace, 2 decent airplane meals and a relatively restful evening on the flight, we’re finally in Joburg, South Africa. Heather’s friend Matodi picked us up, and he and his wife are graciously hosting us while we’re here. (Talk about a soft landing after jumping into the abyss of this trip... Thank God for friends.)
Anyway, besides being a little tired and jet-lagged, my first impressions are that this place reminds me so much of the Southern Brazil: the traffic, the street signs, the grassy & rocky slopes of the interior, the cool air, the smells of a clean house with a tiled floor or of petrol exhaust on the streets, the “advertisers” or street peddlers at every intersection, the “gated” houses & communities, the evening soap-operas, and even the door handles… Very interesting.
Our first day was a lazy “recovery” day: waking up late, grocery shopping for the week, emailing at Mutodi’s parents’ place, and then attending this month’s Atlas Film Club, which featured a documentary about South African women in hip-hop, called “Counting Headz.” The evening consisted of a small meal (soup), some wine (including a traditional warm spiced wine), the film viewing, a Q&A with the South-African-born co-director, and then some more wine around a small outdoor fire.
Today, we went to work with Mutodi and viewed a few scenes being filmed of the "soapie" that he stars in... It's funny to watch heads turn as we walk along side him. In fact, his greeting us at the airport made us feel that much more special.
All this is luxury compared to where we're headed next... to Soweto this weekend and then into the bush of Mozambique (outside of Maputo).
Monday, July 02, 2007
here we go!
Hello friends, family and folks far ‘n’wide…
Finally,
the time has come (today!)
for my new adventure to begin.
This time with my sister.
We’ll be free from cell phone
and computer (except for cafes, friends & other contacts along the way),
so mass-emailing will not be easy,
nor preferable. (After this, no more.)
Please send us to your contacts
and to your favorite places.
Just look closely at our itinerary
for a better idea of when and where we’re going.
Make sure to check out our websites (below),
and we’ll hope to update them
about once a week or so…
depending on our online access.
You can also call us on Skype: hope.deifell
Really, we’d love to hear from you any which way.
Thank you ahead of time for all your love, compassion, good will, support, prayers and best wishes… Just please keep them coming!
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