South Africa/Swaziland Trip

South Africa/Swaziland Workshops

February 11-25, 2011

When our partnership with MEF was coming to a close and we were talking with our Reps about how we would spend the last few months of our assignment, we began dreaming about the possibility of doing a few workshops in South Africa. The MCC leadership in Southern Africa were eager to utilize the resources and experience we have gained in the last few years here for the benefit of the larger region. James and Joan Alty, the MCC Reps for SwaLeSA (Swaziland, Lesotho, and South Africa) invited us to work with their partners and provide trainings for the people in their networks. So after much planning, the dream became a reality. The two weeks that we were to be in South Africa and Swaziland included a number of trainings and a bit of vacation for our family.

Because of the flight schedule of the cheapest airline, we arrived in Johannesburg a day early. We spent that first Saturday at an amusement park, twisting and twirling and screaming on the rollercoasters. When we went to the Apartheid Museum several months ago, the boys had seen Gold Reef City and all its rides across the parking lot and wondered aloud why we weren’t going there instead. So we surprised the boys with this outing and we had a good day together. Some of the rides were quite a shock for Jason, who is now physically tall enough to ride some of the faster rollercoasters but not emotionally ready. Brendan went on his first “loop-de-loop” rollercoaster and got quite a fright the first time but enjoyed it thoroughly the second time. There were two things that shocked us culturally while at the amusement park, the first being the “Gun Dropoff” at the entrance to the park. I guess you can put it in a safe for protection while you enjoy the rides with your family. Go figure. The second was how many people were barefoot. There was one water ride but it wasn’t like this was a water park. I still have the American motto, “No shirt, no shoes, no service” echoing in my head but that is definitely not the case here.

On our way home from the amusement park, we stopped at a market where the boys were able to buy knock-off Barcelona jerseys at a very reasonable price. They saw “Soccer City” from the top of the ferris wheel earlier that day and now they were wearing ‘Messi” on their backs. A good day for these football fans. (Sorry for those of you who are clueless as to what I am talking about. As we keep telling our friends and colleagues, if you don’t understand what our boys are talking about, think soccer and then it will make sense.) We returned to the condo where Bruno and Lois Baerg, MCC Regional Directors, live and spent a wonderful evening with them and Joel and Jenny, Mozambique MCCers who happened to be in town as well.

Sunday we made the lovely trip to Pietermaritzburg. Driving six or more hours was a breeze in a nice car, with smooth roads, and gorgeous scenery all around. Heading off the freeway as we neared Pietermaritzburg, we took the “Midlands Meander” which has many local artisans selling their crafts. At the end of the Meander, we found the plaque indicating where Mandela was arrested, which began his decades in prison. In Pietermartitzburg, we were warmly welcomed by James and Joan, with whom we stayed for the rest of the week.

Peter spent the week teaching a course entitled “Skills in Understanding, Analysing and Transforming Conflict” to community leaders. We had the opportunity to get to know Pastor Jabulani when he attended Africa Peacebuilding Institute last year. He is the director of Project Gateway, a center for church based community development projects. He returned from API committed to including peace issues in their work and this workshop was born out of that desire. With local elections coming later this year and tensions rising, he felt it was imperative to begin training local community leaders in peacebuilding. This workshop was the first in what we hope will be a series of trainings for these leaders. Peter had a group of 25 participants, most of whom were Zulu, but also some refugees from neighboring countries. It was a good week as they all learned together and began addressing some of the issues they face and how to work at building peace.

While Peter was hard at work, I kept the boys occupied. As they were missing a week of school (the second week was their mid-term break), they had school work to tackle in the mornings. Since we were in Pietermaritzburg, we took the opportunity to learn about Gandhi, seeing as how it was in this town that he was thrown off the train as an Indian, despite his British passport when South Africa was ruled by the British. He experienced first hand the discrimination Indians were facing and then spent the next 22 years in South Africa, fighting for their rights, before moving back to India to continue the nonviolent struggle against oppression there. There is a statue of Gandhi in the town center so we went in search of it. Jason had trouble remembering the name “Gandhi” and at one point he asked, “Who was that skinny guy who didn’t eat to make peace?” We also explored the Natal Museum, which, along with a lot of stuffed animals, had a cool World Cup Football exhibit that the boys enjoyed.

Our visit coincided with the annual “Dusi Race,” a three day kayak race that begins in Pietermaritzburg and ends in Durban, near the ocean. We got up early one morning and made our way to the river nearby to watch the racers go down a sluice, which most navigated quite well. One man had a bit of trouble and went over the side instead of down the middle, and though unfortunate for him, it was kind of exciting for us spectators!

About the middle of the week, we noticed that Jason was limping and complaining about a sore on his big toe. Turns out that he got another boil, which I learned they call “Zulu sores” down in that area. But the infection had spread and his whole foot was swollen. Thankfully, James and Joan referred us to their doctor, a lovely Zimbabwean woman, who took one look at it and said Jason needed “surgery.” This word has different connotations here, but it still required a shot to numb his foot and then she proceeded to clean out the wound and pack it with antibiotics. He was also put on oral antibiotics and told to watch lots of movies with his foot elevated. That almost made up for the injection that was painful!

One afternoon, I spent an hour or two with leaders of a Kids Club at a local church who had heard about the Peace Club curriculum I have been working on and wanted to use it with the 500 kids that come to their church every Friday afternoon. Pastor Thandi had brought her three interns as well as a woman who had heard just that day about this meeting and was interested. It turns out that this woman has been trained as a psychiatric nurse and is very interested in the mental health of these children who come from very poor conditions. She kept saying that God must have brought her to this meeting and she was excited to get involved with the project, to the delight of the pastor who is always looking for new volunteers.

I spent the bulk of Friday facilitating a workshop for Gateway Christian School, located on the Project Gateway premises. I had been asked to share the Peace Club model and curriculum with this school so it could pilot the program in the area. I also spent time talking about trauma, as the children they teach are bussed in from compounds and are exposed to horrors you wouldn’t believe. The teachers were very engaged and quick to share their own experiences as well as what they have encountered as teachers. It was a good day and I was glad to pass along the materials and resources I have spent so long developing.

We had received a tour of Project Gateway the previous afternoon and were impressed with the vision of the place. Project Gateway is housed in what used to be an old prison for political prisoners. Gandhi’s wife was imprisoned here at one point and some say that Gandhi was also a prisoner, although that claim is unsubstantiated. Old cells have been converted into offices and dormitories as well as income generating projects such as sewing, fabric painting, and metal works. There is also a design school began by a well-known British designer. After our workshops, I purchased a beautiful wraparound skirt made on the premises and Peter bought an African shirt made by Samson, one of the participants in his workshop. The class also gave him an African shirt as a gift, which he will treasure. Project Gateway is reaching out to the community with education, caring for those with HIV/AIDS, and training pastors and leaders in the community. MCC has a conservation farming demonstration plot onsite and Brendan and Jason helped harvest the beans with Matt, an MCC SALTer, while Peter and I were both teaching.

In our short time in Pietermaritzburg, we were invited out to dinner twice. We enjoyed a lovely evening with Alan and Joyann Goddard, South Africans who spent a few years at Regent College in British Columbia, and are some of the few Anabaptists in the area. Our boys quickly made friends with their two older boys, allowing us to have a nice visit as adults. Another evening we supped with Phil and Christine Lindell-Detweiler, long time Mennonite Mission Network missionaries in Africa. We had briefly met them at our Regional Retreat in December so it was good to spend more time with them. On our last night at James and Joan’s house, there was a farewell celebration for Hlobi, a veteran MCC local worker in Swaziland. She has worked with MCC for about 7 years and is leaving her position to become the Executive Director of Acts of Faith, an organization that works to address the HIV/AIDS pandemic that has hit Swaziland very hard. Acts of Faith is an MCC partner so the relationship will continue, though her role will be different. Hlobi’s grandfather had 40 wives, and her father is one of at least fifty sons (no one knows how many daughters), so Hlobi jokes that she is related to half of Swaziland! She is continually meeting new cousins wherever she goes, she says with a big smile! We’ve spent time with Hlobi on several different occasions during our time in Africa and we are blessed to count her as a friend.

We spent the weekend on the Indian Ocean as a family, at a “resort” that had camping and self-catering cottages. The beach was a short walk away and the facilities had foosball, a swimming pool, a trampoline, and a life size chess board. So the boys were very entertained when we weren’t at the Oceanside. It was our first time at the Indian Ocean (where we were in Cape Town was still actually Atlantic Ocean although we originally thought the False Bay was Indian Ocean) and it was spectacular. The waves were huge and powerful and the water a beautiful turquoise. Most of the coast north of Durban is quite rocky but there was a little stretch of sandy beach where we were located. The beach was quite steep, making the pull of the waves back into the ocean rather strong. There was a narrow band of water where the swimmers were allowed to be, otherwise the current would pull them into the rocks on the side. There were also rip currents, tugging swimmers out to sea. Peter and the boys went in the relatively warm water (not warm like Hawaii, but definitely more mild than the California coast) but I felt like the lifeguard on duty. Eventually there was a real lifeguard but until that time, I was nervous watching them enjoy, and fight against, the huge waves. It wasn’t long before Jason came in to play in the sand and I was relieved that Peter had only one kid to mind in the water. There were a couple of scary moments for me as Peter grabbed Brendan who was being taken toward the rocks or out to sea but Peter said it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

I, technically speaking, did go in the Indian Ocean, though not for a swim. We had only been at the beach five minutes and were climbing around on a few low rocks, when I fell. I really don’t know what happened but my leg shot out from under me and I fell hard on my side, landing on a rock then slipping onto the sand. A wave came in at that moment and I was drenched, although I managed to keep the camera in my left hand out of the water. I had just finished reading a book about a woman who had multiple sclerosis and so of course, I immediately thought that must be the reason why I fell without reason. (After I read a book where the main character had early on-set Alzheimer’s, I was sure I had it too every time I couldn’t recall something or would search for a word in my mind and not find it!). So I personally know how warm the water and didn’t suffer from being cold after my unexpected spill. And now I have a big round rock-shaped bruise on my thigh that is about 4 inches across and various shades of purple and green. A lovely souvenir from our time at the beach!

Monday morning we began our drive up to Swaziland. Just before the border crossing, we saw four giraffe near the side of the road, a thrill for all of us. When we arrived in Manzini and were attempting to check in to the convent guest house where we were to stay, we had an “Amazing Race” moment. The lady who was trying to help us wasn’t the one who was in charge and so there was a lot of confusion. This confusion was compounded by the fact that they thought there were two men coming instead of a family of four. It would have been very helpful if I had spoken her language because we had great difficulty communicating with each other. We thought we were getting a self-catering cottage but ended up with a big room and private bathroom and access to a shared kitchen, but there was no fridge. If I was African, that probably wouldn’t have been a problem, but we crazy muzungus like to have cold milk with our cereal and yogurt and a fridge is helpful for that. So it was a bit stressful getting settled in but it was finally all arranged and a small fridge was brought into our room and so it all worked out.

Later in the evening, I went in search of an iron so that my clothes would be neatly pressed for my workshop the next day. That ended up in a wild goose chase and while it was being sorted, I sat with Helen, a woman who lives there and is sort of like the caretaker. I had been puzzled earlier when I perceived her as avoiding us, a bit unusual since hospitality is such a big thing here. She explained to me then that her ex-husband had taken off with her two boys twenty years ago and she hadn’t seen them since. Her boys were ten and twelve last time she saw them, and so when she saw our boys, she couldn’t bear it and ran away. She would have been a prime candidate for my trauma awareness workshop the next day, since her trauma prevented her from interacting with my two boys twenty years later!

Hlobi had worked hard to organize this workshop and it ran smoothly. She had invited her HIV/AIDS caregivers, as well as several pastors, to come to this two day workshop on trauma awareness and counseling. There were 35 participants in total and since time was so short, I didn’t get to know them much. The entire workshop was done with translation because most only knew Seswati. I had learned to greet them, saying “Sanibonani” and they would all smile and reply, “Yebo!” Yebo also means yes so when I was calling on participants who wanted to ask a question or make a comment, I could say that to them. I was pleasantly surprised to find that “siyabonga” is the way to say “thank you.” In my head I was constantly singing “Siyabonga Baba,” a song we used to sing at Pasadena Mennonite Church. I hadn’t realized that Seswati and Zulu were so similar. And then when I introduced my boys during lunch, the translator said the word “bafana” and I immediately knew that word too, thanks to the South African football team called “bafana bafana.” But these few words didn’t take me very far in the workshop and so I relied on Thokozani, a former IVEPer who lived in Ohio for a year. He was brilliant and it was a pleasure to work with him.

I am wearing a Swazi chitenge worn the traditional way and standing next to Thokozani.

Despite the language barrier, there was good interaction and mutual learning. One beautiful older woman told a story to us all when we were talking about grief and loss that I found fascinating from a cultural perspective. When she was a child, her sister fell ill and was nearing death. Their mother brought all the siblings into the room to say goodbye to their sister. When they saw she was close to dying, they all began crying and wailing. The sister died and they cried even harder. Then a few minutes later, the sister came back to life and recounted what had happened when she died. She said she was slipping away into another world and had to cross a river to get there. She heard lots of crying and the tears of those mourning flooded the river so much that she couldn’t cross it. She had to turn back and join the family, and that is how she came back to life. She recovered from her illness and lived a regular life after that. The point of the story, according to this old woman, is that the purpose of tears is to bring back to life those that are sick, keeping them from death. But after a person is dead and buried, there is no use for tears. It was a new perspective on the nature and function of tears!

The major traumatic issue that this community faces is rape. There is an extremely high incidence of rape in South Africa and Swaziland, and victims are young babies to old women and everything in between. The pastors were keen to talk about the issue of children born as a result of rape, a very common occurrence since abortion is frowned on and adoption not considered. These children suffer but the mothers also suffer, as the children are constant reminders of the trauma they experienced. Such a sad thing but I was greatly encouraged that these pastors and caregivers recognized the need to reach out to this segment of the population that is hurting and try to meet the need.

One afternoon, Hlobi took us out to her family’s homestead where we met different members of her family. Swaziland is absolutely beautiful with low mountains and rocky outcrops. Her farm is at the base of one of these mountains and the views were gorgeous. When I mentioned this to Hlobi, she looked around as if for the first time. She commented that she doesn’t even see the view anymore, something that happens to all of us, I think. I enjoyed it at any rate! We were also shown the Acts of Faith office and the storage rooms in the back where HIV Care Kits, sent from North America, are then distributed. Our home church, as well as many others, have sent these kits throughout the years and it was special to see where they landed and how they were being used to help others.

Our time in Swaziland was short, only two full days, but we made a point of stopping at several factories as we made our way to the border. We had heard there was a candle factory nearby and we were so glad we stopped there. Not only did we get to see how they made these amazing candles, but Brendan and Jason each got a chance to make a dolphin candle, molding it into shape with the help of a craftsman there. It was such a neat experience for them, and for us as we watched them. As we neared the border with South Africa, we stopped at a glass blowing factory and watched as the workers made huge glass bowls and other objects. They use 100% recycled glass, brought in by people in the community who collect the glass. For some, collecting the glass bottles and selling them to the factory is their only source of income.

We drove the rest of the way back to Johannesburg, a pleasant drive on such beautifully paved roads. We passed through a hail storm that forced us to stop under an overpass for a few minutes, until the storm passed over us. Once again, we were hosted by Bruno and Lois, and were even joined by Jonathan, our Zambian colleague who had flown down to help MCCers in South Africa with their computers. We flew home the next day, after purchasing a cricket set for the boys in the duty free shop in the airport. They were thrilled and as soon as we reached home, they had the wickets set up and were bowling and batting away. It was a good trip, with lots of variety. We had opportunities to work and to play and to experience different African cultures. We hope that people were impacted by what they learned in our workshops but we will have to trust God to carry it forward.