Anyone from Sherman Lake Leadership might recognize the intro paragraph...
In the film National Treasure, the protagonist acquires a set of glasses invented by Benjamin Franklin. When the wearer puts them on, they can toggle through a spectrum of colors each of which allows them to see a different aspect of the treasure map. In a similar way, any action can be viewed through the lens of a person’s values, “Was what I just said fully honest?”, and “Am I fulfilling my responsibilities right now?” This essay will analyze the life of Nelson Mandela through three lenses; selflessness, communication, and strength. These specific leadership qualities that he exhibited throughout his political career combined together and made it possible for him to disable the entrenched opposition and navigate the complex political landscape of apartheid.
All great leaders exhibit a degree of altruism. Mandela observes, “It seems to be the destiny of freedom fighters to lead unstable personal lives” (pg 600); and after essentially losing two wives to the struggle, he is certainly no exception. In times of struggle sacrifice is required. While some would argue that investing in the world community is self-interest fully realized, and Mandela appreciates the honor that comes with being the Father of a Nation, he also says that it never brought the joy that being a father to his family could have brought him. Mandela’s kindness, another aspect of his selflessness, can be found in his conduct while imprisoned. Food becomes currency in prison, and especially in the early years of Robben Island prisoners were given less than subsistence fare. Mandela saw this as an opportunity to practice generosity, saving Christmas coffee for a friend’s birthday or dispersing the gifts he received from outside visitors among the other prisoners and wardens. One last aspect of selflessness would be Mandela’s sense of humility; despite his wealth of knowledge on many subjects he was never so arrogant as to think he knew everything. He respected and valued the opinions of others. Although he inherited a willfully stubborn temperament from his father, Mandela retains an open-mindedness to new experiences that serves him well throughout his life. When Mandela finds himself running out of arguments against Communism, he takes it upon himself to read all the literature he can find concerning the topic. Although he never “converts” to communism, from this point forward his thinking takes on many more socialist tendencies. A similar process of transformation occurs when he feels he has exhausted the tactic of non-violence. He acquires all the literature he can find on the topic, including some textbooks that could only be found abroad, and tries to implement his learnings in the most ethical and effective manner possible.
Mandela’s skill at interpersonal communications, both privately and publicly, was crucial in gaining the respect of the people he was leading as well as the opposition he debated and negotiated with. It was the single most effective tool at preventing outright civil war before and after his imprisonment. Early in his autobiography Mandela talks about his people’s “abiding belief in the importance of law, education, and courtesy”. His broad knowledge base and experience as a lawyer give tribute to the ways Mandela upheld these pillars of the Xhosa people, but the courtesy and respect he carried with him at all times was essential to his success in discussions. When dealing with the enemy, he did not allow himself to ever return an opponent’s disrespect with contempt. Even after the National Party leader DeKlerk abused the goodwill extended to him during the first CODESA peace talks, Mandela closed the session with the words, “Let us work together openly. Let there be no secret agendas… I am prepared to work with (DeKlerk) in spite of all his mistakes.” (pg. 598) He was also unfailingly honest, especially after his stint as the “Black Pimpernel” when he had to establish trust with the National Party leaders. He admitted guilt in court when the prosecutor least expected it. He was honest about his treatment in prison, both with his family when they visited and with the examiners from Red Cross and Amnesty International. Finally, in a country where language is so highly politicized, he learned a lesson early about speaking the language of the people he wished to lead, including Africaans. Anyone in public relations must have communications skills; a diplomat in South Africa triply so.
A person can be a powerful orator, but without strength and confidence a leader can easily stray from the path they have set for themselves and their followers. It takes great bravery to face powerful opposition and remain true to one’s convictions. Mandela steps up to this plate in his final statement to the judge in the Rivonia Trial, “I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.” (pg. 368) After the police and the court system failed to break down Mandela, he was subjected to nearly 10,000 days in prison. Mandela states, “prison is designed to break one’s spirit and destroy one’s resolve.” (pg. 390) In the beginning, the wardens attempted to strip the prisoners of their humanity with starvation rations, degrading clothing, and abuse. Because this failed to weaken Mandela, if anything it made him stronger, the government tried to nullify him by offering him freedom. Despite the good he could have done for his mother and wife and family in the Transkei, Mandela refuses the offer and continues to work for the greater good in conjunction with the ANC. His loyalty to his party never wavers, even when he has to move “ahead of his flock” as he puts it, in the case of negotiations with the National Party in Pollsmoor.
With this unshakable strong and confident approach to leadership that was communicated in an ethical and approachable way, Nelson Mandela lead the nation of South Africa out of it’s dark years, preparing “A Better Future For All” at the same time that he makes personal sacrifices. Over the past two summers, I have seen many young people mature into strong, selfless, articulate, effective leaders in my experiences in Kalamazoo. Soon I will be embarking on a live-in six-week internship in Zonkizizwe, and I will be befriending and working besides a staff in many ways similar to the youth I have been leading in the past. The same path that led Mandela to be the greatest statesperson in history can be followed by the staff at VVOCF, nowhere else could the international role model outlined in Long Walk to Freedom be more appropriate than here, right now, designing the future of South Africa.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
6-4-09
Jon led us to the Masibumbane HIV/AIDS mission in Mpophomeni, Kwazulu-Natal, an outreach branch of the Methodist Church. Mduze Zwane is the pastor, and he oversees the dozen or so programs and projects that we learned about today. The most exciting one we got to see was an agricultural project, again. This was a successful subsistence farm that was well-protected, grew enough to eat and some to sell on top of that to supplement the dies and provide some security. The two gardens this woman kept up were perhaps 8X5 square meters, with the space well utilized and plantings well timed for the providing food consistently throughout the different growing seasons.
The agricultural support begins with fertilizer, straw, seedlings, and fencing for free, and with the initial effort put in by the client, is the assisted with finances and marketing through the program. A similar sister project involves crocheting, where woman are given the raw materials for satchels and purses, which are then bought back by the institution, which withholds 1/3 in a banking system for the clients in case of an emergency, and if nothing happens, then the client receives a bonus at the end of the year. The system is refreshingly transparent, with the leaders often coming from within the program to take up positions.
Another branch of Masibumbane involves the HIV/AIDS pandemic heavily. They provide counseling and support for both pre- and post- testing families. Right now they were working with 28 families, with 27 people on ARV's. Support includes a pre-hospital transitional facility that provides spiritual, nutritional, and emotional support for clients who either don't have someone else to support or whose caregivers have other commitments for a period of time. I got the impression the waiting list used to be much longer for the 4 beds, and that the people in the beds used to be in a much worse state before the ARV's. Progress is being made, but there are still times when the clinic's four beds and modest cupboard don't come anywhere close to caring for the need in the very extended community for which this clinic seems to make itself responsible.
Out of 500,000R that Masibumbane receives, 50,000 goes directly towards food.
The agricultural support begins with fertilizer, straw, seedlings, and fencing for free, and with the initial effort put in by the client, is the assisted with finances and marketing through the program. A similar sister project involves crocheting, where woman are given the raw materials for satchels and purses, which are then bought back by the institution, which withholds 1/3 in a banking system for the clients in case of an emergency, and if nothing happens, then the client receives a bonus at the end of the year. The system is refreshingly transparent, with the leaders often coming from within the program to take up positions.
Another branch of Masibumbane involves the HIV/AIDS pandemic heavily. They provide counseling and support for both pre- and post- testing families. Right now they were working with 28 families, with 27 people on ARV's. Support includes a pre-hospital transitional facility that provides spiritual, nutritional, and emotional support for clients who either don't have someone else to support or whose caregivers have other commitments for a period of time. I got the impression the waiting list used to be much longer for the 4 beds, and that the people in the beds used to be in a much worse state before the ARV's. Progress is being made, but there are still times when the clinic's four beds and modest cupboard don't come anywhere close to caring for the need in the very extended community for which this clinic seems to make itself responsible.
Out of 500,000R that Masibumbane receives, 50,000 goes directly towards food.
Wednesday, June 3rd
Today started by visiting the Zakhe Agricultural College, founded by Joseph Baynes, an old colonialist who died without and children so he left his land to the government to start teaching youth about agriculture. A high school of a couple hundred boys was paired with a technical college of sorts with a handful of college-age students acquiring the skills to manage a commercial farm. Jon Tange lectured us at length about the importance of making a PROFIT! In his mind, the government has not handed to black folks because they don't have the skills to manage it. In his mind, white folks all over are ready to sell their land, but because there has been very minimal training, there are not qualified applicants in the post-apartheid era. The claim that there was lots of arable land available, that was simply not being used, was refuted by Sizani, who pointed out that the land 97% of the time cost too much for 90% of the people to buy, and that most of the recipients left were male. Jon also expounded on the difficulty Zakhe was having with evaluating the students who had completed the program. They had no sort of test, no list of questions despite the fact that until recently they were only given theoretical knowledge of their subjects with very little hands-on experience.
The emphasis on commercialism was reinforced at the high-school level, which appeared to be a quite wealthy school for boys aiming at Universities or management positions, although some did apparently go into farming directly after matriculating, (which apparently 100% of them did). The high matriculation rate was accredited to the strict discipline at the school, which was evidenced by their impeccable sport coat-uniforms, as well as the state mandated life-skills class, a malleable philosophical class that in many cases including this one takes on a very spiritual bent.
I don't understand what's wrong with subsistence farms on a family scale augmented by another income based on other skills a person may have. Perhaps I am too biased from my personal family situation.
Anyways, after visiting a very strange museum on the founder, who incidentally invented using cattle dipping tank "The Conquerer of the Tick", we moved on to a model orphanage. SOSA, an international orphanage organization, has 8 orphanages in SA, and I'm pretty sure we got to visit the best one. After walking through an impeccably manicured promenade, we lunched lightly in a lovely gazebo overlooking the houses and buildings that compromised the grounds. This SOSA site holds 160 children between the 2 and 18 years old that have been abandoned, abused, or orphaned through some other system. It also oversees 600 children in the surrounding community. It was unfortunately through this that I learned of the dismal state of their education system in regards to special needs. If you get labeled as "special education", you are sent to a different school where perhaps you are stimulated, but it's in no way a similar experience to the rest of the children. "Further Education Training" is a sort of tech-school program for children to "add value" in the job pool, whether as a farmer such as we saw before, or as welders or mechanics or teachers. The matriculation rate here is nothing like the Zakhe, it's very difficult for the director to find placements for them, especially in the current economic situation. Consequently, discipline and a "good work-ethic" are high commodities on this campus as well. The house mothers that oversee each house really do function as mothers. They must be single, over 35 years of age, and ready to work until they die if not by contract then by implication. Some of the students asked then about male role models for the children, and while the president of the school is male, (of course), and while they are very active in a big-brother big-sister program that provides role models for many of the boys, there is no one living with them, and very few men at all in the lives of the young girls outside of the boys alongside them. It's possible to be brought to SOSA when you are two, and essentially stay at the school until you are 18, and if all of your teachers at school are female, and your house mother only takes you to the spa and the grocery store once every other month, for the president of the school to be the only adult male in their life.
The orphanage gets sponsored by the FIFA world cup, which is how they have such beautiful facilities. They also get 2.500R every time the Sharks make a goal, which granted has not been that often this year, but sometimes it is. I also get the impression that there are many other sponsors that donate to this good cause.
The emphasis on commercialism was reinforced at the high-school level, which appeared to be a quite wealthy school for boys aiming at Universities or management positions, although some did apparently go into farming directly after matriculating, (which apparently 100% of them did). The high matriculation rate was accredited to the strict discipline at the school, which was evidenced by their impeccable sport coat-uniforms, as well as the state mandated life-skills class, a malleable philosophical class that in many cases including this one takes on a very spiritual bent.
I don't understand what's wrong with subsistence farms on a family scale augmented by another income based on other skills a person may have. Perhaps I am too biased from my personal family situation.
Anyways, after visiting a very strange museum on the founder, who incidentally invented using cattle dipping tank "The Conquerer of the Tick", we moved on to a model orphanage. SOSA, an international orphanage organization, has 8 orphanages in SA, and I'm pretty sure we got to visit the best one. After walking through an impeccably manicured promenade, we lunched lightly in a lovely gazebo overlooking the houses and buildings that compromised the grounds. This SOSA site holds 160 children between the 2 and 18 years old that have been abandoned, abused, or orphaned through some other system. It also oversees 600 children in the surrounding community. It was unfortunately through this that I learned of the dismal state of their education system in regards to special needs. If you get labeled as "special education", you are sent to a different school where perhaps you are stimulated, but it's in no way a similar experience to the rest of the children. "Further Education Training" is a sort of tech-school program for children to "add value" in the job pool, whether as a farmer such as we saw before, or as welders or mechanics or teachers. The matriculation rate here is nothing like the Zakhe, it's very difficult for the director to find placements for them, especially in the current economic situation. Consequently, discipline and a "good work-ethic" are high commodities on this campus as well. The house mothers that oversee each house really do function as mothers. They must be single, over 35 years of age, and ready to work until they die if not by contract then by implication. Some of the students asked then about male role models for the children, and while the president of the school is male, (of course), and while they are very active in a big-brother big-sister program that provides role models for many of the boys, there is no one living with them, and very few men at all in the lives of the young girls outside of the boys alongside them. It's possible to be brought to SOSA when you are two, and essentially stay at the school until you are 18, and if all of your teachers at school are female, and your house mother only takes you to the spa and the grocery store once every other month, for the president of the school to be the only adult male in their life.
The orphanage gets sponsored by the FIFA world cup, which is how they have such beautiful facilities. They also get 2.500R every time the Sharks make a goal, which granted has not been that often this year, but sometimes it is. I also get the impression that there are many other sponsors that donate to this good cause.
Saturday, June 6
New pen pals-Philani and Thobisi
Courtney commented in the car that today's experience left her less onfused than any other outing we've had this week, I think that would be the general consensus from the group. We all felt good after visiting Agape, the personal experience was positive. 6 hours of bonding time with the buddy of our choosing was more than enough time to exchange some good loving, some lunch, some outdoor games, and a Saturday with children who don't have anone to come get them on a Saturday. And it really is true, these youth sing all the time, have beautiful voices, and bright spirits. Their new establishment was quite an imporbement over the last one, although still not nearly large enough to accomodate the need of the community, and definately not sponsored by FIFA like SOSA was.
It was a little like meeting rock stars, because we just saw these children in the movie, and they're hung out with Sean Paul and Alicia Keys, but they were still as humble as any parent could ask, and thankful for the space and opportunities they had. I hope their presentations were as sincere as they sounded, I believe they were. Sometimes I find myself questioning people's sincerity at the strangest times, and I know it's the analytical portion of my mind playing the devil's advocate, but that is not always necessary.
In the movie there was a little boy. 4 or 5 years old who provided the comic relief as well as the sober honest emotion of a child. I met Thobisi as an eleven year old today, and he definately inherited the music from his sisters. He loved playing the mandolin almost as much as he liked playing football, which is saying something. I guess he stayed at Agape this weekend because he had a rugby match that he lost 15-17, but he was ok with his level of effort, and just like in the film OK not seeing his sisters for a weekend. The charachter that took him under his wing was named
philani, who after I heard him try out a hip-hop song on me, gifted me with a Zulu-English dictionary that will be very useful in the upcoming weeks.
We're still listening to kanye on the radio.
Courtney commented in the car that today's experience left her less onfused than any other outing we've had this week, I think that would be the general consensus from the group. We all felt good after visiting Agape, the personal experience was positive. 6 hours of bonding time with the buddy of our choosing was more than enough time to exchange some good loving, some lunch, some outdoor games, and a Saturday with children who don't have anone to come get them on a Saturday. And it really is true, these youth sing all the time, have beautiful voices, and bright spirits. Their new establishment was quite an imporbement over the last one, although still not nearly large enough to accomodate the need of the community, and definately not sponsored by FIFA like SOSA was.
It was a little like meeting rock stars, because we just saw these children in the movie, and they're hung out with Sean Paul and Alicia Keys, but they were still as humble as any parent could ask, and thankful for the space and opportunities they had. I hope their presentations were as sincere as they sounded, I believe they were. Sometimes I find myself questioning people's sincerity at the strangest times, and I know it's the analytical portion of my mind playing the devil's advocate, but that is not always necessary.
In the movie there was a little boy. 4 or 5 years old who provided the comic relief as well as the sober honest emotion of a child. I met Thobisi as an eleven year old today, and he definately inherited the music from his sisters. He loved playing the mandolin almost as much as he liked playing football, which is saying something. I guess he stayed at Agape this weekend because he had a rugby match that he lost 15-17, but he was ok with his level of effort, and just like in the film OK not seeing his sisters for a weekend. The charachter that took him under his wing was named
philani, who after I heard him try out a hip-hop song on me, gifted me with a Zulu-English dictionary that will be very useful in the upcoming weeks.
We're still listening to kanye on the radio.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The bridge from the dark past to the bright future was a theme throughout today.
This afternoon we met our pen-pal buddies directly at the VVOCF center. 0-8 year olds went into the intern room to play with Lisette, 6-14 year olds had garbage duty first, and 15+ squashed into the main room of the center, where I joined my two buddies in the discussion surrounding Youth Day. Youth Day is a South African Holiday in remembrance of the youth protest and subsequent massacre on June 16th, 1977 after the government announced that all education would be administered in Afrikaans, the Dutch-derived language spoken by the white minority in power. After squishing about 10 MSU students into the room with 20 seated kids and about seven older students functioning as facilitators, the conversation was directed toward the youth empowerment today. Bruce, our 17-year old translator asked everyone whether or not they liked Zonkizizwe, (their township) and why or why not. The emotion, intelligence, and community shone through their answers, both positive and negative. While it was apparent that they were very thankful for the center and the positive experiences they had there, and that the basic human rights won by the struggle of the previous generation were appreciated, violence, vandalism, corruption, disease, and malnutrition were listed as grievances in the group that inspired many of them to try and leave Zonke. We tried to have a conversation about education as the means of empowerment and an agent for mobility, but there was such a lack of information almost debilitating as the lack of funds for these children.
After the discussion ended, our group exploded out of the room into the games already begun by the rest of the children. Some people continued to pick up trash, Lishonondo, and I went over and picked rocks out of the grounds that are to be used as a garden come the next planting season. It felt good to get my hands dirty with the red earth here. As we worked we talked about families, school, hopes, and goals. Lisho the 18-year old has one younger brother who I met yesterday, who is 5 I think, two older sisters, 23 and 33, and an older brother who drives cars. His father left when he was 1, and doesn’t recognize Lisho as his son, his mother died when he was 8, his step-father died 3 years ago. He has passed Standard VIII, which I think means about 10th grade, but as I later found out from Jeanne, because of his learning disorder he probably will not matriculate (graduate high school), and in general he seems to want to be a farmer. After hearing about the direction of some of the other youth in the community, agriculture does not sound half bad. I hope before I leave I will be able to work next to Lishonondo in his garden, even if only for a day or two.
I only realized after I left the center that both of my buddies were living in child-headed households, having lost both their parents to “sickness” which means AIDS. I prepared myself with all the statistics and personal stories from other people, meeting other youth with similar stories at the other orphanages around SA, as well as the personal connections I made with campers in Kalamazoo over the past three summers. There is still a huge emotional impact in the realization that this life, their life, is now my life as I become brothers to Lisho and Lucky. I wanted to be a part of their world, I’ve been waiting months to meet them, and they’ve been waiting even longer to meet me, and now we’re here. Friday I will visit Lucky and Florence at their home a block or two from the VVOCF site.
This morning set up the emotional experience of the afternoon in a much more profound way than getting lost yesterday. After driving through the “Rich Man’s District” and seeing the walls of Mr. Nelson Mandela’s house, then driving through Hillborough (?), the district famous for it’s xenophobia and atrociously high violent crime rates, exploitation of the poor (especially Zimbabweans), and passing the market for traditional healers, we pulled up at into a building labeled “Constitutional Court”. This building housed the equivalent of the US Supreme Court, with fewer security guards, and more cattle skins involved. It was also built adjacent to and in part with the very same bricks as the apartheid governments prison, most of which had been turned into educational museum-like walk through exhibits. We were led on a tour by a warmly dressed, cool-speaking young South African. DIGNITY, HUMANITY, these words take on new meaning when you see the atrocities that people inflict on other people. It took the bravery of photographers like Bob Gosani and artists like Matlebula to alert organizations like Amnesty International and the Red Cross to the violations of human rights that occurred in these awful prisons.
The tour ended in the room where 11 justices (judges) hear the constitutional cases that have already gone through the Magistrate Court, the High Court, and the High Court of Appeals. The proceedings are conducted in English, but it is the right of any client to have a translator into any of the other 11 official languages. From where the justices sit, you can see outside, in general the whole place felt set up to connect to the people it was meant to serve.
This afternoon we met our pen-pal buddies directly at the VVOCF center. 0-8 year olds went into the intern room to play with Lisette, 6-14 year olds had garbage duty first, and 15+ squashed into the main room of the center, where I joined my two buddies in the discussion surrounding Youth Day. Youth Day is a South African Holiday in remembrance of the youth protest and subsequent massacre on June 16th, 1977 after the government announced that all education would be administered in Afrikaans, the Dutch-derived language spoken by the white minority in power. After squishing about 10 MSU students into the room with 20 seated kids and about seven older students functioning as facilitators, the conversation was directed toward the youth empowerment today. Bruce, our 17-year old translator asked everyone whether or not they liked Zonkizizwe, (their township) and why or why not. The emotion, intelligence, and community shone through their answers, both positive and negative. While it was apparent that they were very thankful for the center and the positive experiences they had there, and that the basic human rights won by the struggle of the previous generation were appreciated, violence, vandalism, corruption, disease, and malnutrition were listed as grievances in the group that inspired many of them to try and leave Zonke. We tried to have a conversation about education as the means of empowerment and an agent for mobility, but there was such a lack of information almost debilitating as the lack of funds for these children.
After the discussion ended, our group exploded out of the room into the games already begun by the rest of the children. Some people continued to pick up trash, Lishonondo, and I went over and picked rocks out of the grounds that are to be used as a garden come the next planting season. It felt good to get my hands dirty with the red earth here. As we worked we talked about families, school, hopes, and goals. Lisho the 18-year old has one younger brother who I met yesterday, who is 5 I think, two older sisters, 23 and 33, and an older brother who drives cars. His father left when he was 1, and doesn’t recognize Lisho as his son, his mother died when he was 8, his step-father died 3 years ago. He has passed Standard VIII, which I think means about 10th grade, but as I later found out from Jeanne, because of his learning disorder he probably will not matriculate (graduate high school), and in general he seems to want to be a farmer. After hearing about the direction of some of the other youth in the community, agriculture does not sound half bad. I hope before I leave I will be able to work next to Lishonondo in his garden, even if only for a day or two.
I only realized after I left the center that both of my buddies were living in child-headed households, having lost both their parents to “sickness” which means AIDS. I prepared myself with all the statistics and personal stories from other people, meeting other youth with similar stories at the other orphanages around SA, as well as the personal connections I made with campers in Kalamazoo over the past three summers. There is still a huge emotional impact in the realization that this life, their life, is now my life as I become brothers to Lisho and Lucky. I wanted to be a part of their world, I’ve been waiting months to meet them, and they’ve been waiting even longer to meet me, and now we’re here. Friday I will visit Lucky and Florence at their home a block or two from the VVOCF site.
This morning set up the emotional experience of the afternoon in a much more profound way than getting lost yesterday. After driving through the “Rich Man’s District” and seeing the walls of Mr. Nelson Mandela’s house, then driving through Hillborough (?), the district famous for it’s xenophobia and atrociously high violent crime rates, exploitation of the poor (especially Zimbabweans), and passing the market for traditional healers, we pulled up at into a building labeled “Constitutional Court”. This building housed the equivalent of the US Supreme Court, with fewer security guards, and more cattle skins involved. It was also built adjacent to and in part with the very same bricks as the apartheid governments prison, most of which had been turned into educational museum-like walk through exhibits. We were led on a tour by a warmly dressed, cool-speaking young South African. DIGNITY, HUMANITY, these words take on new meaning when you see the atrocities that people inflict on other people. It took the bravery of photographers like Bob Gosani and artists like Matlebula to alert organizations like Amnesty International and the Red Cross to the violations of human rights that occurred in these awful prisons.
The tour ended in the room where 11 justices (judges) hear the constitutional cases that have already gone through the Magistrate Court, the High Court, and the High Court of Appeals. The proceedings are conducted in English, but it is the right of any client to have a translator into any of the other 11 official languages. From where the justices sit, you can see outside, in general the whole place felt set up to connect to the people it was meant to serve.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 16
This morning I got lost. After our hurried performing arts rehearsal, I wanted to go for a run, but for the first time this trip no one else was interested. “That’s OK” I thought, the hotel staff had assured us the surrounding area was safe during the day, I had over an hour before the group was supposed to meet again, and I probably couldn’t run for that long anyways. I took off in my gear, leaving my wallet behind as a safety precaution, and soon left the path that I knew. This new street led me to a park, which circled around behind my building, and left me in a residential district I figured must be very close to the guest houses we were staying in. After zigging and zagging around a number of streets however, I still wasn’t recognizing anything, so I checked the phone book at a gas station for our address and perhaps a map. It didn’t have either. I then stopped by one of the numerous security guards along the street, and asked for directions to Woolworths, the grocery store near our house. He kindly sent me along my way, unfortunately right around the time that our group was supposed to be departing for the VVOCF site, I arrived at the wrong Woolworths, in a different city, without any money, phone numbers, or addresses that could possibly help me. So I found the next tool that could help me, the internet. I very kind manager of an internet café with an Australian accent allowed me to look up Jeanne’s #, and use the phone after I explained my plight. Tshodiso, our driver, picked me up on the way and our group wasn’t even late, but I will still have that memory of being in a city in a foreign country where I only speak 1/11th of the official languages, not having any resources except my running shoes, and not knowing at all where I am, and depending on the kindness of strangers.
Good things- I was treated very kindly by every person I spoke to during this experience. Also, this happened at 12:00 noon, not 12:00 midnight. It was also very fortunate that there was a South African cell # on our class syllabus on ANGEL.
Bad things- I don’t think I will go running alone ever again, unless I am confident in my directions and my safety, and I have contact info and more words in other languages to help me navigate. I worried our group leader when I was reported missing, and had I gone in a different direction, or not found an internet café, or been ten minutes later, today could have resulted in a very sad story.
As it was, Tshodiso picked me up, and our group charged towards Zonkizizwe. We pulled into their community center there to a roar of cheers and applause from over 120 children. The next few hours entailed much singing and dancing, poetry and skits, first the children then the MSU students, then everyone together. There was some traditional dancing, there was some hip-hop dancing, gumboot dancing, improvised dancing, dancing while singing and singing while dancing, many combinations of which were incorporated into get-to-know-you games. All of the MSU students were paired with at least one if not two of the children there, selected in general by Nimosa the boss-lady based on how long the kids (4-19 years old) had been involved with VVOCF. I was paired with Hlonondo, (the first syllable is a lisped sh- sound, it took me three times to say it), and Lucky. There two new brothers of mine both have amazing stories that I can’t wait to learn more about in these upcoming days, but I’m going to write down my impressions from the first day.
Unlike in the
Lucky’s family- 3 sisters. One is 14, Lucky is 16, he lives alone with his 18 year old sister, and his 23 year old sister lives somewhere else. I believe I will have a chance to visit the home he shares with
Hlonondo is 18, and the only family I have met thus far is his very adorable younger brother, who I would guess to be between 5 and 8. Hlonondo takes very good care of his brother, helping him with the various clothing difficulties that small children will have, including him in games, introducing him to people and translating his very small voice. In fact, one of the more impressive trends I’ve seen in the youth I’ve met so far has been in the area of leadership. No matter how young a child is, there is always someone younger that needs looking after some of the time. I’ve seen acts of selflessness, giving, leadership and guidance from children.
I have a lot to learn from the VVOCF participants.
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