It's so hard to believe that late tonight, Cape Town time, I board a plane to return to Minneapolis. These eight weeks went in one breath. But what a breath.
Looking Back
This past week Spiwo and I returned to Malungeni in the Eastern Cape, where Spiwo is from. Two events took place. First, we did a follow-up workshop with eight of the 13 ministers. Two of these ministers, Vuyo and Zola, drove nearly 1200 kilometers one way to attend. (And many of the roads are, narrow or dirt and not well maintained.) We all had dinner together on Tuesday evening and started the next morning with breakfast at 7:30. The day was one of substantial learnings for everyone (including me). We explored how things had changed for each of the ministers since the training a month ago, and where they wanted specific assistance. Especially exciting -- and helpful -- was when Spiwo and I were able to more deeply model narrative principles and practices in response to the ministers' sharing problem-saturated stories where they felt stuck. The risks and courage of a couple of them took were awe inspiring.
After the nearly 24 hours of being together, I returned to my space and wept. The tears were of deep gratitude for the extraordinary privilege of doing this work in South Africa with Spiwo, and for knowing I'd be returning home soon. My ambivalence about returning home is overwhelming.
The second event was the organizing, purchasing, and disbursing of food parcels sponsored by Arm in Arm in Africa. Arm in Arm is connected to St. Joan of Arc Church in Minneapolis, and has a close relationship with Open Arms (check out Open Arms' website on this blog site to learn about Dusk2Dawn, a fundraising walk in September in support of both organizations' work in South Africa). Spiwo and others organized this effort (they've done it many times before). I helped unpack the trunks full of 30-lb bags of flour, maize, beans, rice, sugar, samp (traditional South African grain made from maize), and very large bottles of cooking oil. I also helped stack the piles of these items. Yet in all honestly, most of the work was done by the young men and boys. In South Africa, especially in the rural areas, you rarely see women doing this.
It was a beautiful day. Before the distributing the parcels, Spiwo gave a blessing. Then he called out each family's name. The atmosphere quickly became very festive. Some people came with their wheelbarrows to schlep the bags of staples to their homes. More often though, I saw women and children walking home, carrying as much as they could.
You can see the photo of the food parcels being stacked and all lined up on the lawn. There were 80. At first there were 70, but then Spiwo learned of 10 more families that were in extreme need. There was much scrambling behind the scenes to be able to acquire enough for the ten extra families.
As I've mentioned before, although much poverty exists in the townships, it's even deeper and more harsh in the rural areas. One story involves a young woman and her three year old daughter. The young woman's mother, who was about 60 or so, died a few months back when the roof of her tiny shack caved in on her. A couple of this woman's children (the photo of the woman holding the little girl is one) were living with her, including one who is so disabled she lies in bed all day, stays covered up and won't talk or look at anyone.
Since the mother's death, the children and grandchildren have even less than before. They live in such a tiny place, cooking outside. Just when you think you're heart can't be wrenched any more, when you witness situations like this, you know the heart's ability for feeling the suffering of others is infinite. Spiwo asked me and Lizzie (a British woman who is staying at Malugeni for six weeks helping out in many capacities) to take food supplies to this family. Normally he would do it, but as Spiwo told me later that night, his heart could not face their situation. For Spiwo to feel this way says a lot.
Earlier this same week, when Spiwo and I visited his 80 year old mother, who lives in her own roundeveld, she remarked how sad she's been, explaining that there are now two to three deaths per week in the Malungeni village. About two-thirds are probably due to HIV/AIDS. Spiwo's mother lives on her own and is mostly bedridden due to arthritis. There is a woman who takes care of her during the day. But her teenage grandchildren, who are supposed to spend the night with her, often do not. They are off who knows where. The loneliness and forsakenness in the rural areas are profound.
Spiwo's place in Malungeni is quite something. He has spent a few years building this up. He is trying to create a conference center in the middle of this rural area. Often whites from America or the UK come and help out with projects and now they have a nice place to stay. A group from Global Volunteers comes every couple of months for three weeks to help mentor teachers in a nearby school. I suspect (but it's only an assumption) that Spiwo wants people to see what can be achieved. What weighs heavy on his heart is how few people truly make it: get educated and acquire the skills necessary to work and support themselves and their families. It is heart-wrenching beyond words that Spiwo is still seen as an aberration rather than the norm. I've noticed how emotionally and spiritually exhausted Spiwo can get.
On a more upbeat note, I've included some photos of people gathering their food parcels and a few photos of children. (Children LOVE having their photos taken and then seeing themselves afterward. What did we do before digital cameras?) I've also uploaded some photos from another day of kids sitting in a circle with Spiwo as he passed out apples and photos of older siblings, aunts and uncles, and parents of the children who helped Spiwo in building of his home here. When Spiwo is here, the children swarm around him.
Looking Forward
The leadership workshop in Malungeni was very well received. In addition to this follow up session, people expressed their strong interest for more guidance and coaching. This is understandable because they are trying to upend the systems of oppression that are so rooted in South African life. Spiwo's vision is for he and I to work with several new groups of ministers, as well as teachers, principals, community leaders, and youth. Our hope and plan is that I'll return in September or so, and stay for an extended period of time. This would allow us to work with several new groups, while doing follow-up and coaching with those who have gone through the week long workshop. And as we make more inroads into the worlds of white South Africans, particularly the Jewish Capetonians, perhaps there will be more support from other South Africans. When I return to the States, I will work on raising funds to continue, broaden, and deepen what we have started.
Now and Here
This is my last blog from South Africa this time around. I look forward to returning to work alongside Spiwo again, to bear witness to courageous individuals who continue to struggle to loosen the deep seated hold of apartheid's and colonization's brutal legacy; to join with these individuals so they can better see, uplift, and embrace their own possibilities, expertise and wisdom; to nurture the relationships between members of the Cape Town Jewish community and JL Zwane Community Centre; and to have my heart stretched wider and deeper with every breath I take here in South Africa.
I thank you all for your support--emotional, financial, spiritual, etc--and for bearing witness to the stories throughout this blog, which are only an iota of what swirls within me. My heart is filled with big gratitude.
-Ariella
No comments:
Post a Comment