Blogging at last!

Greetings from beautiful South Africa! Since I've been here for nearly two weeks now, where to begin, when each day, each moment is a world unto itself?  What you see above are photos of northern Transkei, a rural area in the Eastern Cape. More on that world a bit later. 

Beginnings

First, let me sketch the landscape of how and why I came to be here. Some of you are familiar with this story, yet others may not be.

I've been involved with Open Arms of Minnesota for many years. Open Arms is a small nonprofit that makes a huge impact. OAM prepares and delivers nutritious meals for people living with HIV/Aids, ALS, MS, and those recovering from or in treatment for breast cancer. Once Open Arms completes its capital campaign and the building of its new facility, it will be opening its arms even wider, offering meals to anyone with any illness (including caregivers and dependent children) who would not get healthy meals otherwise. Open Arms is recognized as a leader, nationally and internationally, in addressing issues of hunger and poverty. Connected to Open Arms, first as a consultant and then as a volunteer, I've truly gained much more than I could ever give. (www.openarmsmn.org)

About nine, 10 years ago, Open Arms entered into a "twining" or partnering relationship with the JL Zwane Community Centre in Gugulethu, a township outside of Cape Town. Among the programs that Open Arms currently supports at the Centre are the HIV/Aids Hot Meal and Support Group and the Rainbow After School program, in which kids receive tutoring to help them stay in school and a hot meal--often their only meal of the day. JL Zwane, under the leadership of Rev. Spiwo Xapile, is doing amazing work in the township in trying to address the the devastating issues of poverty, HIV/Aids, and hunger. JL Zwane is also seen as a leader in South Africa in having a positive impact in its community.  

In the summer of 2007, Spiwo was in Minneapolis. He and I met and began talking. He asked what I do and I mentioned leadership coaching (among other services). His response was, "Leadership? I'm looking for a different approach to leadership development, one that is not hierarchical and is inclusive of women."  I explained how I apply narrative practices in leading. This seemed to resonate with Spiwo. 

The short of it is that he invited me to come to JL Zwane in January 2008 to work with him to provide a leadership workshop targeting community leaders from the townships. We had no way of knowing if this approach would provide contextual meaning and purpose for the participants.  And we knew there would be language challenges, since I obviously don't speak Xhosa, and there would be several participants who are not fluent in English. We both decided to take a leap of faith.  And, the success of workshop was way beyond our wildest dreams.  Spiwo immediately began envisioning how to build and expand on what we did.

So here I am, back a year later, collaborating again with Spiwo. We will be working with a whole new group this time, about 15 ministers. And I will be doing follow up work with some of the participants from last year. This is a dream come true: to actively and purposely have a collaborative relationship with an extraordinary leader, using narrative practices while making a positive contribution within a community.  Yet, if this year is anything like last, I will learn far more than I could ever teach.  

A bit more context: Spiwo is a renegade minister and leader.  He is a Presbyterian minister who constantly challenges the status quo, the taken-for-granted practices of the church and of his community and culture. For example, he was probably the first minister in all of South Africa to openly talk about HIV/Aids and welcome those who are living with HIV/Aids into his community, into his church. He was also the first minister to welcome GLBT people into his church and into his community.  Spiwo has received, and still does receive, a lot of criticism for what he does and how he does it-- because he goes against convention and conventional wisdom.  But he gets results.  It is truly a blessing and gift to work side-by-side with him, learn from him. 

By the way, Xhosa names usually have a special meaning. "Spiwo" actually means "gift."

Landings

I arrived in Cape Town on January 12 to a very warm welcome--and I don't mean the weather (which IS wonderful, in the mid 70s to low 80s, not to make you all jealous, given the cold freeze that has an icy grip on the Northern Hemisphere). I was graciously and affectionately met at the airport by Zethu and Nonki, Spiwo's wife and daughter, and Xolani, the driver for JL Zwane.  All familiar, loving faces from last year. They spirited me away to the Centre, where Spiwo and I had a brief chat. We needed to figure out when I would leave for and return from the Eastern Cape. Much of the Eastern Cape is made up of rural villages. Since several of the ministers who will be participating in the leadership training live in and serve congregations in these villages, Spiwo and I thought it would be best for me to spend some time with a few of these ministers in their rural settings. That way I can begin to get an understanding of the tremendous issues they face daily. This, in turn, will help me in designing and adjusting the workshop, which is set for the first week in February.

So the next morning, before heading out to JL Zwane, I went first to the Waterfront, a shopping centre, to purchase a cell phone. Having a cell phone in South Africa is essential. It is THE mode of communication and connection, both the phone and texting (called SMS here).

Well, perhaps because I was so tired from the flight and not having gotten much sleep the couple weeks or so prior to my leaving Minneapolis, I had a minor mishap. I tripped and landed quite hard on my butt. I felt something pop in my lower back. Fortunately, caring people surrounded me. One went to get a security guard, who then came with a wheelchair. I was taken to see the medic on site (that's a story for another time).  Without going into all the details, after a couple of hours I made my way, via taxi, back to where I am staying. I promptly proceeded to pump a homeopathic remedy and Ibuprofen into me. I was sure that I only badly bruised soft muscle tissue. Yet I could barely move and needed to stay flat on my back.

Two days later, instead of flying to East London and embarking on the journey into the rural villages, I found myself at Dr. Johnny Fine's office.  Being seen and examined by Dr. Fine was such a complete contrast to being seen by an American doctor. In many ways it reminded me of going to the doctor when I lived in London 30 years ago. Dr. Fine does not wear a white, or any color for that matter, physician's jacket. He is casually dressed and there is an informal and relaxed ambience to his office and examine room. The examination room is quite small and none of the obsessive sterileness that we find in America. No stiff, sandpaper-like white paper covering the examination table. And, when he asked me for a urine sample, Dr. Fine handed me one of those kidney-shaped containers I only see in movies these days, and leaves the room, closing the accordion door behind him. There is no bathroom to go to. You just drop your pants and pee into that kidney-shaped container. He then tests the sample for whatever, right there (well, after I pull up my pants and open that accordion door, inviting him back in).

He tells me I have a torn ligament in my coccyx, but I should go get an X-ray to make sure nothing is fractured.  I say no, explaining once again how I must be on the plan on now Monday for the Eastern Cape, and that I'm sure nothing is broken.  He gives me a shot of anti-inflammatory (you know where), and prescriptions for more anti-inflammatory and pain meds. In addition, he instructs me to call him at 7 pm Friday evening to tell him how I'm doing. When's the last time your doctor told you to call him on a weekend evening on his cell phone??

Bottom line: I took it easy over the weekend, took the anti-inflammatory but not the pain meds, was in constant contact via email with my homeopath about which remedies to take, went for an X-ray Monday morning to make sure nothing was broken, and then hopped a plane Monday afternoon to East London,  gateway to the Eastern Cape rural areas. (Guess how much all this cost me, out-of-pocket? About $65 for Dr. Fine and $50 for the X-ray and having it read by a radiologist. Never did I feel my care was compromised.)  Through this whole ordeal, Spiwo called every day, sometimes twice a day to see how I was. 

Openings

Finally, in the Eastern Cape and on the way to the rural villages. On Tuesday Rev. Xola Mluma drove me into and around the area called North Transkei, where his congregation resides--very rural and mountainous.  The roads are very rough dirt roads. And often, there is little indication of a road. 

This area, as is much of the Eastern Cape rural communities, is very dry. There is no running water and most people do not have electricity. Water is either captured rainwater and stored in tanks, or the women walk daily, often quite a distance, to a muddy river or stream to fetch water, carrying it back in containers on their head.

I've included a few photos from this first day, of Xola's rural communities so you can get an idea of what the landscape and homes look like.  Included is a photo of Xola with an elder of his main station church, and two women who also look after the church.  Please notice the blue door. I told Xola that the blue is a very holy color. It is the blue used in the Israeli town of Safat by the mystics of the middle ages.  There is also a photo of an elderly stock (e.g., livestock) herder. 

In the rural areas, there is a "main station" church with a "mans," for mansion. This is where the minister and his (yes, 99% are men) family live.  There are also "out stations," smaller places of worship that are usually led by an elder of that particular village.  The reason there are these out station churches is that it is too far to travel to the main church for most people: many are elderly and/or few have cars, and the distance to the main church can be very very far away.  Visiting the rural areas is like visiting the rest of Africa: very very poor, high illiteracy, very high HIV/Aids, hunger, lack of water, etc.  And yet, everywhere I went, the people I met where tremendously gracious and welcoming.  

More to come very soon about the rest of my time in the rural areas...so stay tuned.

Ariella