six months out...
At the end of September, just before I set out for a new landscape and a new life, a group of my dearest friends gathered at my mom's house to pray for me and send me off to Africa in style. Along with my family, these guys have consistently exhorted and encouraged me, lived life with me, loved me through my worst - and my best -days, and have been unrelenting in their desire to see God's highest and best manifest in my life as well as their own. To Dyann, Nancy, Terry, Carrie, Anne, Melissa, Laurie and Lori as well as the Friday Night Gang, I am grateful beyond measure - and as you predicted all along, God's plan was a REALLY, REALLY good one. I love my life here, in all of its' craziness, and the following is an attempt to pen a few verbal "snapshots" of the last 24 weeks:
For the past few years, Mike and Kalyn, and even my niece, tried valiantly to get me to come to South Africa. "Jan, it's BEAUTIFUL", they would say, and I would just smile, because I had BEEN to Africa and I knew there was absolutely no WAY that I was going to move there. (Word of wisdom: be VERY careful when you say NEVER in front of God - He has a warped sense of humor). But they were right, and I am struck every day by the "terrible beauty" (thanks W.B. Yeats) of this place. Amidst wild mountains and stunning seascapes, there is incomprehensible poverty (and by that, I mean that though I see it all the time, I can't even begin to truly register it), and violence and alcoholism and DESPAIR. I see THAT every day, but I also see this:
You hate me now, don't you?
and this...
and I got to see THIS!
I know I have just blown any credit I might have been storing up for " bravely enduring the hardships of Africa". DANG - my cover is totally blown. But seriously, this really is a huge part of my life here. Most weekends, I either go hiking or just take my Bible and go to the beach and listen for God's voice amidst the roar of the surf, or I sit and have coffee at the local garden center/coffee shop, where the ambience beats anything that Starbucks could ever offer. No matter what else has happened, it's easy to let it go and just be swept away with the splendor that is Africa.
But then there's the "legitimate part" of my life here. From about 7:45 until around 4:00 every weekday, I work at Ukhanyo Primary School in Masiphumelele Township. The township is 4 miles up the road, and a world away from where I live. My students, and many of my teachers, live in a community of about 38,000 people crowded into an area that is roughly the size of LaFortune Park in Tulsa. Two paved roads meet where the school, the clinic, the community center and the library are located, and then beyond that are narrow alleyways that lead through a maze of tin-roofed shacks built out of aluminum, cardboard and scraps of cast-off building materials. There is usually one bed and a table with a couple of plastic chairs, crowded next to a cabinet stocked with a hotplate, a small fridge and a few odds and ends in the way of crockery and cooking utensils.I've never seen a shack with more than 2 beds, and yet many of my students have 3, 4, or even 7 brothers and sisters (or other relatives) who live with them. Depending on where you land on the socioeconomic ladder, you either have a slab floor or a dirt floor. If you have electricity, there is one bulb hanging from the ceiling, but it is expensive, and so a lot of folks just use candles or lanterns. Water comes from a communal tap, and there is a long row of port-a -johns in the center of town that stretches alongside a stinking, sewage-filled canal. Some of the houses have an indoor bathroom or their own outhouse. The shacks are hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. I don't take pictures because I haven't yet figured out a way to do it in a way that doesn't seem demeaning (rich white person with cool digital camera photographing the misfortune of others). Every conversation, every move you make can be heard by the people in the shacks around you. Violence and abuse is a fact of life. The latest statistics indicate that 40% of Masi has AIDS and/or TB. That means nearly half of the kids in my class have AIDS. Last week the police came to school to interview a 4th grade boy who had been raped by a high-school boy on the soccer pitch after school. EVERY child I teach has been touched by trauma and tragedy in some way or another.
THAT is the dichotomy of my life here. I spend my weekends hiking, going to coffee, hanging at the beach while HELL is located within walking distance of that same beach. Sometimes I pretend that it isn't there. A lot of the time I pray for the kids, for their parents and the teachers - for this little corner of the world - to be transformed by the God of justice and compassion. So that's another sobering aspect of my life in South Africa.
BUT - and this is a very big BUT, Ukhanyo is not a depressing place. It's a frustrating place for sure, and sometimes resembles a lunatic asylum, but it is not a sad place. I laugh A LOT every day (more stories on that this week hopefully) and EVERY day I feel blessed to be here. Last week, a 10 year old girl named Esona came stalking in to the library (my headquarters), and said emphatically, "I WANT YOU TO TEACH ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW". I wasn't laughing then - just thinking what a privilege it is to get to be a small part in this kid's, and THESE kids' lives.
We celebrated the grand opening of the Ukhanyo Science Lab last week. I kind of snickered all week because it was like the opening of the United Nations - we had the school choir, traditional African dancers, a blessing by a local pastor, speeches galore - and I was thinking "people, it's a SCIENCE lab for pete's sake" but then I realized something. The science lab is a new, modern classroom (paid for by a British NGO). It's the only modern classroom in the entire school. It has up-to-date equipment, new tables, posters on the wall. It could rival most western schools. It's something to be PROUD of, in a community that doesn't have much to be proud of. It makes them feel like maybe their kids have a chance, so yeah, a new science lab is a REALLY big deal. Anyway, I've attached a video clip and a few pics of the "event of the century" as well as pics of the kids so you get an idea of what this OTHER part of my life is like.
But then there's the "legitimate part" of my life here. From about 7:45 until around 4:00 every weekday, I work at Ukhanyo Primary School in Masiphumelele Township. The township is 4 miles up the road, and a world away from where I live. My students, and many of my teachers, live in a community of about 38,000 people crowded into an area that is roughly the size of LaFortune Park in Tulsa. Two paved roads meet where the school, the clinic, the community center and the library are located, and then beyond that are narrow alleyways that lead through a maze of tin-roofed shacks built out of aluminum, cardboard and scraps of cast-off building materials. There is usually one bed and a table with a couple of plastic chairs, crowded next to a cabinet stocked with a hotplate, a small fridge and a few odds and ends in the way of crockery and cooking utensils.I've never seen a shack with more than 2 beds, and yet many of my students have 3, 4, or even 7 brothers and sisters (or other relatives) who live with them. Depending on where you land on the socioeconomic ladder, you either have a slab floor or a dirt floor. If you have electricity, there is one bulb hanging from the ceiling, but it is expensive, and so a lot of folks just use candles or lanterns. Water comes from a communal tap, and there is a long row of port-a -johns in the center of town that stretches alongside a stinking, sewage-filled canal. Some of the houses have an indoor bathroom or their own outhouse. The shacks are hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. I don't take pictures because I haven't yet figured out a way to do it in a way that doesn't seem demeaning (rich white person with cool digital camera photographing the misfortune of others). Every conversation, every move you make can be heard by the people in the shacks around you. Violence and abuse is a fact of life. The latest statistics indicate that 40% of Masi has AIDS and/or TB. That means nearly half of the kids in my class have AIDS. Last week the police came to school to interview a 4th grade boy who had been raped by a high-school boy on the soccer pitch after school. EVERY child I teach has been touched by trauma and tragedy in some way or another.
THAT is the dichotomy of my life here. I spend my weekends hiking, going to coffee, hanging at the beach while HELL is located within walking distance of that same beach. Sometimes I pretend that it isn't there. A lot of the time I pray for the kids, for their parents and the teachers - for this little corner of the world - to be transformed by the God of justice and compassion. So that's another sobering aspect of my life in South Africa.
BUT - and this is a very big BUT, Ukhanyo is not a depressing place. It's a frustrating place for sure, and sometimes resembles a lunatic asylum, but it is not a sad place. I laugh A LOT every day (more stories on that this week hopefully) and EVERY day I feel blessed to be here. Last week, a 10 year old girl named Esona came stalking in to the library (my headquarters), and said emphatically, "I WANT YOU TO TEACH ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW". I wasn't laughing then - just thinking what a privilege it is to get to be a small part in this kid's, and THESE kids' lives.
We celebrated the grand opening of the Ukhanyo Science Lab last week. I kind of snickered all week because it was like the opening of the United Nations - we had the school choir, traditional African dancers, a blessing by a local pastor, speeches galore - and I was thinking "people, it's a SCIENCE lab for pete's sake" but then I realized something. The science lab is a new, modern classroom (paid for by a British NGO). It's the only modern classroom in the entire school. It has up-to-date equipment, new tables, posters on the wall. It could rival most western schools. It's something to be PROUD of, in a community that doesn't have much to be proud of. It makes them feel like maybe their kids have a chance, so yeah, a new science lab is a REALLY big deal. Anyway, I've attached a video clip and a few pics of the "event of the century" as well as pics of the kids so you get an idea of what this OTHER part of my life is like.
The photo above is of Monica's 3rd grade class. I LOVE THIS WOMAN. She is an amazing teacher - pours her life and energy into the 45 8-10 year olds in her class. She hand crafted every poster you see on the wall. If every teacher at Ukhanyo was like her, I would be out of a job!
Pitz and Vuvu are my self-designated personal assistants. One day they popped into the classroom to offer their services, and I enlisted them to help me carry tables from the storage area to the library. Along the way, 2 bigger boys tried to muscle them (violently) out of the job and Pitz and Vuvu won my heart forever when they started throwing punches and yelling, "NO - WE are the helpers of her!". For the record, I don't CONDONE violence, and I DID stop the melee before blood was shed, but still, I kind of enjoyed the moment.
At the science lab opening, there was a moment (that alas, I didn't capture on film), where one of the kids started dancing while another was drumming and every African in the room went CRAZY. People were dancing and whistling (all 120 packed in to a room meant for 50) and the place just resonated joy.
These grade sixers are my junior Einsteins. At every opportunity they show up in the science lab or in the English lab, wanting to help out, to practice their English, to read books, and mostly to have an adult listen to them and TALK to them. Trying to teach me Xhosa is another favorite activity - usually resulting in much laughter and rolling around on the floor at my complete inability to pronounce ANY of the clicks correctly.
Anyway, these are "slices" of my life in Cape Town. I'm a bit embarrassed at the fact that what started out to be a simple blog entry has turned out the length of War and Peace. If you stuck with it all the way through, I'm impressed, and in any case I'll try to write SHORTER entries MORE often from now on.
Anyway, these are "slices" of my life in Cape Town. I'm a bit embarrassed at the fact that what started out to be a simple blog entry has turned out the length of War and Peace. If you stuck with it all the way through, I'm impressed, and in any case I'll try to write SHORTER entries MORE often from now on.