Small Talk?

by Doug Roland

Since arriving here three months ago, I have had quite a few people brief me, directly and indirectly, on the state of affairs in SA. For the most part, this is from white men. Some comments have occurred in a conversation and the others just in passing. There are three common elements.

One is that they are non-solicited. These were not the result of any questioning or curiosity on my part. Instead, it seems that each person wanted to be sure that I, as a foreigner and Americans, understood.

Another is that they relate directly to the end of apartheid. Comments or not, every adult can quote the year apartheid ended. This is not surprising. The end of the regime reversed everything having to o with government. The 89-90% black population and its leaders stepped into power. It is the day the Civil War ended, Armistice Day, and Kennedy's assassination combined - days you'll never forget if you were alive at the time.

Thirdly, there is a distinct tone, if not full expression, of anger or sorrow. These are common responses when a way of life is gained on the one hand and lost on the other. For winners and losers, things would never be the same.

The comments run quite a gamut. At the game park, a lady who grew up in Hillcrest said that she and her siblings used to be able to play outside without concern, free of fear, and all that. Today, high fences and gates surround most urban homes. She was lamenting the loss of the life she remembered. Another was the man who offered, ". . nothing is like it used to be." This was his take on how the activities at the Royal Exhibition Grounds in Pietermaritzburg had changed. That may seem a neutral or even positive observation, but not when his body language and voice inflection revealed an underlying anger. This morning at church, a gentleman asked me how long I had been here and had I been here before. I said it was my third time and he replied that I must be familiar with what had happened in the country. I gather I would have received a lecture from him had I not assured him that I knew the circumstances.

Saturday was probably the most interesting encounter. After a cursory introduction, the man said he needed to make sure I knew the truth of what was going on in the country today, specifically how crime is uncontrollable. He reckoned that this was because the 1994 constitution went way overboard to the "other side". Specifically, he believed that the 'hearsay rule' made it impossible to prosecute anyone. I know enough to know that the rights in much of the U.S. Constitution are also present in the South African constitution. I finally responded in arguing the merits of the hearsay rule (prevention of prosecution without sufficient evidence) and that moreover, his concerns were much more about government incompetence than flaws in the law. With that he calmed.

What is curious is why do they seem to have such a deep-seeded need to tell me about it, each one assuming that I know nothing. What am I supposed to do?

Some things are for sure. Before 1994, it is obvious to me even today that this was a white man's paradise for many people. When something like that is plowed under, it is painful to the losers. It does not heal quickly. It isn't pretty. Today, it isn't better for a significant part of the population. The verdict is still out on whether the ruling party, the African National Congress, is capable of governing responsibly. Corruption is in bloom. Of the white people we know of similar ages, nearly all of them have a child now living out of the country, Australia and the UK seemingly the most popular. The massive shift in power triggered a tsunami of emotion in everyone. Tangible results were inevitable.

I have no conclusions to this. They are just observations. It would be easy, as someone here to help in the healing that will take generations, to pass this off as people of sour grapes, children who had their toys taken away. But that would be wrong. There is a possibility that we as neutral parties are given the comments as part of their healing. We know that they love their country, that several of them support causes for needy people, and that indigent black people attend their church services. As for Mr. Hearsay Rule? Well, he and his wife sold their home last year to buy a run-down rural property on about 60 acres for the purpose of saving the lives of 13 severely disabled children, all black, who were being abused in the sense that the prior operator of the property was accepting payments from the government to care for the children. The property was in dreadful shape, the children sleeping on the cold concrete. They were kept alive and nothing more. This couple has exhausted all their resources for the sake of these children. And, they have a vision for the future.

Somewhere in scripture there is an imperative from Jesus to his followers to sell all that you have. Most of us turn our heads away, this being so "unrealistic". But these folks have embraced it. Through this Mr. Hearsay Rule may shed his anger and take comfort in a radical idea - that we exist to serve each other, especially the least of us.

Start of the Weekend

by Doug Roland

The seminary has four chapel services each week. The last one is at 7:45am on Friday. It is customarily a service of singing, usually a combination of English, Xhosa and Zulu songs. Or, it may be a song using all three languages.

Most weeks, there is a small, but growing, "praise band". Jenny usually puts it all together. It's a nice way to start the weekend, and I appreciate her creativity and willingness to take some chances.

Some of today's songs were not known well by the congregation of seminarians . . .and obvious others. What struck me, though, is how we listened intently to the first verse, then joined in the singing joyfully. It made me think there was something in the air that was different.

We had to work through a lot this morning. It was the day following the tragic death of the wife of one of the true leaders and most loved seminarians. His name is about 15 letters long. He goes by Gift, and he is exactly that. His wife died last Friday in an accident in which she was a pedestrian victim of a crash of two cars on the road. She and Gift had been married but a few months. The loss was incomprehensible. It has weighed on us all through the week. A number of seminarians and the dean traveled several kilometers to the funeral yesterday. And yet, on a cold, damp and dreary morning, the spirited singing rang out.

Jenny concluded the service by showing a wonderful powerpoint she created using the song, "Legacy" by a popular singer. There is a huge screen in the chapel that tends to engage the viewer better than most. She added photos to the soundtrack that related to the lyric. The theme of the song was how do we want to be remembered. It was the second time I had seen this, but the first time that I was moved. When the song was over, the powerpoint was replaced by a picture of all the seminarians taken some months ago……..

It is also customary that the president or the dean finishes with announcements ('notices' in S. Africa) There were few. Then he looked and stared at the faces on the screen, many of whom were in the chapel. Ross has an indefatigable sense of humor. He began to make amusing comments about the people on the screen, beginning with himself. One of the people running the sound and video sensed the moment and put the computer cursor on the screen, moving it around as the president cracked wise about the faces. Soon, many of us were doubled over, laughing at ourselves and with community.

Laughter can be and was contagious this morning, lifting us up from where we had been. It swept in on a great wave of joy, a reminder that even as we struggle with a senseless death, God joins us in our tears and our laughter. It is grace manifested in our lives. I doubt that this was Jenny's plan for the service. I really don't think any of us could have planned it.

HEATING UP

by Doug Roland

It's heating up in PMB and it's not yet summer. This afternoon (Friday) it was 38 degrees Celsius, 100.4 F and us with no air conditioning. But hardly anyone else has it either. The houses are constructed to trap the cool air inside and it seems to work. The humidity is 6% today. There is culture shock and there is climatic shock. Everyone, especially farmers are talking about the lack of rain, a condition going on for about 6 years. At the same time, the dollar continues to drop against the South African Rand.

We are reminded it is an election year by a rare visit from the postal service. We received our write-in ballots and two campaign brochures. I immediately got a headache. There's nothing like going out of the country for awhile to gain perspective. At least this far away there is an absence of the shrills and screams that have replaced spirited debate of an earlier time.

Meanwhile, our principal reason for being here - to help in the fieldwork aspect of the education of the seminarians, is also heating up. Field work, also referred to as work-integrated learning, means each person is required to spend about the equivalent of 1/2 day each week working in volunteer situations such as HIV/AIDS counseling, teaching teenagers the complex issues of teen pregnancy, working with orphans and a few others. Cheri and I have conceptualized a three year fieldwork program that focuses on a different area each term or 1/2 term. For example, the first year will revolve around life and death issues - hospice, suicide prevention, mental illness, family dynamics, caring for the aged and others. For weeks now, we have called on agencies, churches, hospitals, anyone else we can to explore ways for the seminary to partner with these entities next year.

We work closely under and with the Dean of Studies, a black Methodist minister named Sox Leleki. While we are culturally separated, we are discovering each other's gifts. We seem to feed off each other's ideas, and in that process, a new excitement about the program begins to spread. The seminarians are doing a lot of speculating on what this means to them and they will learn soon enough.

Before we came, the program was a requirement that needed filling, a box to be checked. It has enormous potential in transforming the seminarians and forging lasting bonds with the community. But it is an overwhelming job to plan spots for around 80 people, not to mention following up and evaluating the program. Now, though, with two new staff members (us) we feel it is within reach.

One of the greatest joys in being here in the second year of the seminary is plowing new ground for future years. What we do today has consequences for decades. The closer to getting it right this time through, the more there is to build upon.

It has been gratifying as well to experience the responses we have received from the heads of the agencies were we have gone. For sure, Christianity is growing in the southern hemisphere while declining in the northern hemisphere. Thus, we do not encounter resistance to an religious institution's interest in developing a partnership. The people who will be served by the seminarians in field work are of many faiths, especially in this neck of the woods with many Muslims and Hindus. (Note: the first Indian indentured servants arrived as here 150 years ago today.)

Of course, it's not all roses. It's 100+ degrees outside, we have 2 ceiling fans, a family 24 hours away, governmental bureaucracy that makes the U.S. look streamlined, loud neighborhood dogs that sometimes bark most of the night, and extremely loud birds (brown ibis) that a game preserve employee called a flying vuvuzela that wakes just before dawn and makes sure the rest of us do too. And we are beginning to lose some of our impatience since no one seems to care if it takes 3 days instead of a hour. A local paper publishes the TV schedule for the week and always leaves out Thursday. We no longer go to the toilet. We go to the ablution.

These locals oddities of speech, behaviour and environment are to be celebrated just as a foreigner to the US should celebrate the Theater of the Absurd that defines our election season. We smile and carry-on, enjoying all that is different, reveling in work that we do, and thanking the God that sent us here and watches over us.