I leave early because I know the day ahead will take time. After locking the giant gate at the church center’s entrance I make my way up the long, winding road towards Magenqezeni. There I will catch a Kombi into town and return to the same place before dusk. The sun is hot already and it’s only half past eight. Sweat begins to run down my forehead and the bath I just took seems like ages ago. As I meander up the twisting concrete I wonder what this path was like prior to being paved just a few years ago. I come across a herd of cows grazing on the side of the road, some feel perfectly comfortable standing in the way of any potential traffic. With no one in sight I wonder which of the locals has momentarily lost his herd. They never seem to bother me when I walk past, heck, they never seem to acknowledge my existence, which is just fine with me. I pass Pastor and Mama Mumbaso’s house, with no signs of life, it is early on a Saturday after all. I make my way past the soccer field and primary school to where the road levels off a bit.
The sound of the occasional rooster cry and cow moo fill the otherwise still silence. I come across a woman working in her vegetable garden, “Sawubona (hello)”, I say. She replies, “Sawubona, unjani (hello, how are you)?” “Ngisaphila, unjani (I’m fine, how are you)”, I respond. She smiles and concludes, “Sisaphila, hamba kahle (we are fine, go well)”. “Sala kahle (stay well)”, I say as I continue on.
I come to the steep hill that takes me down to where I will catch my taxi. There is no one around, it’s peaceful and calm. Suddenly the silence is broken by the hum of a sugar cane truck approaching from the south. Whooooosh, it flies by at a speed that has to be illegal. Then I see a little red kombi approach from the north, I signal to him to stop. He slows down and asks, “eKuphi? (where to?)” “eStanger”, I reply. “Yebo, Siyahamba eStanger (Yes,we are going to Stanger)”, he says. "Ngiyabonga (thank you)", I say as I hop in. I make my way to the back seat, my favorite spot, near the window. I open it a crack and feel the crisp air start to cool me as we glide along. We turn onto the road that leads into downtown Maphumulo, the long way, I think to myself. We drop a few riders off at the rank in Maphumulo and make our way past the bustling fruit stalls and braai stands. Past the school where I teach and the road that leads to one of the parishes I attend, down the snaking road out of Maphumulo proper.
We are back onto the main road to Stanger and flying, only to stop for the couple sets of speed bumps along the way. The scenery is beyond words, jagged tree covered mountains to the north and west, rolling hills of sugar cane to the south and east, both seem to go on forever in each direction. There is something beautiful with how the light plays with the vibrant green of the cane fields. They are an electric green, buzzing with color in the morning sun, as the day wears on the greens deepen, and by evening they seem to glow a golden hue. It’s a beauty I find strangely continual, yet always finding ways to manifest itself into something new and different.
The road to Stanger is a winding one, the kombi drivers seem to enjoy this, as if they're driving roller coasters. Even with the seemingly reckless ride at times, I never feel in danger, it’s an odd confidence I have. We begin passing up our payment for this coaster ride to the money collector in front, R 16 gets me from Magenqezeni to Stanger (about 50 kms), roughly $2.28, a steal by American standards. After kilometers of sugar cane I see the first few groups of houses, we are nearing the city’s center. We turn onto one of the main roads and past the municipality building where King Shaka Street and Mahatma Gandhi Road intersect, a snapshot of the layers of history enveloped around this place. We turn at Sucrose Nissan, the final leg on our journey. As we pull into the taxi rank I bid the driver farewell, “Sala kahle (stay well)”, and leap into the chaotic beauty that is Stanger on a Saturday.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
The Spirit of Re-Gifting
Gifts, they are all around us, they exist within us. Gifts remind us what makes us different, what makes us special, and what makes us interdependent. God has found brilliant ways of giving us all unique gifts, qualities that give us the opportunity to give back to the world. I often think about the potential that lies within humanity, sometimes wondering if we will ever realize its full potential. A gift is not something that should be taken lightly, especially when it comes from God. One should treasure it, embrace it, but most importantly, share it. In my first four months of living alongside the people of Umphumulo I have seen so many of these gifts on display; I have also seen the reality of untapped potential and its negative consequences.
Before I left the United States I kept hearing a similar phrase being expressed by family and friends. “You have so many gifts share” or “This is a perfect opportunity for you to share your gifts”, it was both a heartfelt message and a challenging one. I appreciate each and every person who encouraged me in that way, who gave me confidence in myself, who lifted me up in this fashion. What I have experienced most in my time here is not just the sharing of my gifts, but basking in the glow of others’ gifts. One of the first examples of this came when fellow volunteer, Kate Hagen and I visited the Rorke’s Drift Arts and Craft Center. For two days we marveled at the beautiful displays of God’s gifts. From the weavers, to the potters, to the textile printers, each artist expressed him or herself in a pure and emotional way. I was swept up in the splendor of it all and left feeling a further affirmation of God’s glory at work. I’ve seen some of the most incredible and genuine expressions of art while here. I can’t get over the vast array of creative energy that flows through the artists and crafters in this part of the world. They take simple things such as telephone wire, plastic bags, and soda cans and turn them in amazing pieces of art. The artistic expression is only half of the gift, harnessing the creativity to take a plastic bag and see an elephant in it, that’s using God’s gifts in wondrous ways.
During our in-country orientation, which took place in Johannesburg and Pietermaritzburg, we spent time learning about our new surroundings in both a historical and spiritual sense. We dove into the process that brought us to our year of service and shared our hopes for the coming 11 months. Part of this exercise was focused on looking at what we anticipated from this journey of accompaniment and how it will change us forever. We jotted down things we hoped we would experience, ways in which we might grow, and the result of this new growth. I found myself flooded with ideas and began writing down both concrete and abstract points of emphasis. I remember thinking, “It will be interesting to see how all of these things connect.” One of those concrete ideas was to learn a new type of art form or craft from a local artist here. As I settled into my placement site I began the search for this opportunity. With help from Jabu, one of the women at the church office, I found a woman by the name of Thuli who agreed to share her knowledge of Zulu beadworking. And so one afternoon I set off with Jabu to the next village north of Umphumulo to meet my new teacher. I remember how happy she was upon our first encounter; she couldn’t understand why a white person from America would want to learn to Zulu bead! I explained that I too was an artist and my hope was to take the opportunity while living in her country to learn an art form from a local artist. She had a humble nature about her, Thuli wasn’t willing to admit that her work was indeed artistic expression nor anything special. This struck me, because looking at the amazing array of both beaded and woven pieces one could draw no other conclusion. I thought back to the apartheid system and how it programmed blacks and other people of color to feel of lesser value, maybe this was why she felt the way she did. After a bit of a scolding (because I bought the wrong beads, string, and needles ) we started our first session. Her patience was unrivaled and the smile on her face as I messed up again and again will be forever engrained in my mind. We went into Stanger the next day to buy the correct supplies and after a couple more lessons I was mastering the basics. Even though I compensated Thuli for each session her gift to me became so much more than just the knowledge of beading. I have since shared that gift with some friends and family and I look forward to learning more from Thuli in the coming months.
Another example of giving and receiving gifts came in the most unexpected of places. I’m not the best singer (not even close) I like to leave that to the other members of my family, so when the local choir asked me to join them I nearly when into shock. The previous volunteer, Kelly, had joined them during her year of service and I felt almost expected to follow suit. I must admit my hesitancy at first, I hadn’t sung in the choir since jr. high. I was terrified at the thought of being in such a competitive environment with little to offer. As the weeks and months have progressed I’ve learned that the most important part is not the talent we carry, but whether or not we can share it in a way that enhances the whole. Our choir indeed has some of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard, but the magic comes when we learn to blend our voices to make the entire choir sound magnificent. I never would have dreamed that I would be singing at a competitive level at any point in my life, let alone in IsiZulu, in South Africa. These are the delightful twists in the road that remind me how wonderful God’s sense of humor is. I don’t really enjoy singing to be honest, I never really have, but when I get into the room with the members of the Umphumulo Parish Choir to practice or perform, that all changes. I can’t describe it, but I look at it as God’s way of saying, “See, you can enjoy most anything, if you allow yourself to open up to it.” In December the excitement of the previous three months of practicing came to a head as we made our way to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Southern Africa Music Organization’s bi-annual competition in Gaborone, Botswana. We had performed beautifully at our regional event taking top honors in three categories. Botswana was different though, the competition was tough and our road there was unexpectedly long and weary. We left Umphumulo at 9 pm on Friday, December 11th , and arrived the following evening at 10 pm. What should have taken 12 hours instead spiraled into a 25+ hour journey. With bus breakdowns, stops at weight stations, and a blown tire we arrived exhausted, knowing what we needed to do the following day. I’ve never seen anything like it, the way our group rebounded, hopping onto the bus the next morning. At the event we performed wonderfully, one might say another force took over within us. In the end we came up short, but it didn’t matter really, it was the journey from September to December 13th that mattered. Around 60 individuals from all over the Maphumulo area decided to join together, work hard (sometimes five practices a week) and stay positive to make a joyful noise unto the Lord! Each of us took the gift God gave us, no matter how great or small, and used it to glorify Him.
Gifts are an amazing reminder of God’s love for us. Sometimes they are easy to detect within ourselves, other times it takes a group of 60 Zulus to help us find it. The bottom line is that we are all given amazing gifts to use and we mustn’t lose sight of the need to share them with each other. I may be able to paint a portrait, but write a symphony? I can kick a ball, but doubt I’ll ever be able to quilt a masterpiece. I’ll never help to build a rocket, become a doctor, be a preschool teacher, or compete in Hawaii’s Ironman Triathlon. It’s ok though, because God has asked other people to do those things, He’s asked me to do certain things and He’s asked you to do certain things. The beauty in His creation lies in it’s diversity, an idea that only 15 years ago was scoffed at in South Africa under apartheid rule. The shadow of that still casts itself on many of the people here, but signs of it’s dissipation are visible. Sometimes we must look deep within ourselves to bring out these gifts, but by doing so we are respecting the value that God has instilled in us. Think of it as re-gifting in a spiritual sense. So go on, make your joyful noise unto the Lord, whatever it may be!
Before I left the United States I kept hearing a similar phrase being expressed by family and friends. “You have so many gifts share” or “This is a perfect opportunity for you to share your gifts”, it was both a heartfelt message and a challenging one. I appreciate each and every person who encouraged me in that way, who gave me confidence in myself, who lifted me up in this fashion. What I have experienced most in my time here is not just the sharing of my gifts, but basking in the glow of others’ gifts. One of the first examples of this came when fellow volunteer, Kate Hagen and I visited the Rorke’s Drift Arts and Craft Center. For two days we marveled at the beautiful displays of God’s gifts. From the weavers, to the potters, to the textile printers, each artist expressed him or herself in a pure and emotional way. I was swept up in the splendor of it all and left feeling a further affirmation of God’s glory at work. I’ve seen some of the most incredible and genuine expressions of art while here. I can’t get over the vast array of creative energy that flows through the artists and crafters in this part of the world. They take simple things such as telephone wire, plastic bags, and soda cans and turn them in amazing pieces of art. The artistic expression is only half of the gift, harnessing the creativity to take a plastic bag and see an elephant in it, that’s using God’s gifts in wondrous ways.
During our in-country orientation, which took place in Johannesburg and Pietermaritzburg, we spent time learning about our new surroundings in both a historical and spiritual sense. We dove into the process that brought us to our year of service and shared our hopes for the coming 11 months. Part of this exercise was focused on looking at what we anticipated from this journey of accompaniment and how it will change us forever. We jotted down things we hoped we would experience, ways in which we might grow, and the result of this new growth. I found myself flooded with ideas and began writing down both concrete and abstract points of emphasis. I remember thinking, “It will be interesting to see how all of these things connect.” One of those concrete ideas was to learn a new type of art form or craft from a local artist here. As I settled into my placement site I began the search for this opportunity. With help from Jabu, one of the women at the church office, I found a woman by the name of Thuli who agreed to share her knowledge of Zulu beadworking. And so one afternoon I set off with Jabu to the next village north of Umphumulo to meet my new teacher. I remember how happy she was upon our first encounter; she couldn’t understand why a white person from America would want to learn to Zulu bead! I explained that I too was an artist and my hope was to take the opportunity while living in her country to learn an art form from a local artist. She had a humble nature about her, Thuli wasn’t willing to admit that her work was indeed artistic expression nor anything special. This struck me, because looking at the amazing array of both beaded and woven pieces one could draw no other conclusion. I thought back to the apartheid system and how it programmed blacks and other people of color to feel of lesser value, maybe this was why she felt the way she did. After a bit of a scolding (because I bought the wrong beads, string, and needles ) we started our first session. Her patience was unrivaled and the smile on her face as I messed up again and again will be forever engrained in my mind. We went into Stanger the next day to buy the correct supplies and after a couple more lessons I was mastering the basics. Even though I compensated Thuli for each session her gift to me became so much more than just the knowledge of beading. I have since shared that gift with some friends and family and I look forward to learning more from Thuli in the coming months.
Another example of giving and receiving gifts came in the most unexpected of places. I’m not the best singer (not even close) I like to leave that to the other members of my family, so when the local choir asked me to join them I nearly when into shock. The previous volunteer, Kelly, had joined them during her year of service and I felt almost expected to follow suit. I must admit my hesitancy at first, I hadn’t sung in the choir since jr. high. I was terrified at the thought of being in such a competitive environment with little to offer. As the weeks and months have progressed I’ve learned that the most important part is not the talent we carry, but whether or not we can share it in a way that enhances the whole. Our choir indeed has some of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard, but the magic comes when we learn to blend our voices to make the entire choir sound magnificent. I never would have dreamed that I would be singing at a competitive level at any point in my life, let alone in IsiZulu, in South Africa. These are the delightful twists in the road that remind me how wonderful God’s sense of humor is. I don’t really enjoy singing to be honest, I never really have, but when I get into the room with the members of the Umphumulo Parish Choir to practice or perform, that all changes. I can’t describe it, but I look at it as God’s way of saying, “See, you can enjoy most anything, if you allow yourself to open up to it.” In December the excitement of the previous three months of practicing came to a head as we made our way to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Southern Africa Music Organization’s bi-annual competition in Gaborone, Botswana. We had performed beautifully at our regional event taking top honors in three categories. Botswana was different though, the competition was tough and our road there was unexpectedly long and weary. We left Umphumulo at 9 pm on Friday, December 11th , and arrived the following evening at 10 pm. What should have taken 12 hours instead spiraled into a 25+ hour journey. With bus breakdowns, stops at weight stations, and a blown tire we arrived exhausted, knowing what we needed to do the following day. I’ve never seen anything like it, the way our group rebounded, hopping onto the bus the next morning. At the event we performed wonderfully, one might say another force took over within us. In the end we came up short, but it didn’t matter really, it was the journey from September to December 13th that mattered. Around 60 individuals from all over the Maphumulo area decided to join together, work hard (sometimes five practices a week) and stay positive to make a joyful noise unto the Lord! Each of us took the gift God gave us, no matter how great or small, and used it to glorify Him.
Gifts are an amazing reminder of God’s love for us. Sometimes they are easy to detect within ourselves, other times it takes a group of 60 Zulus to help us find it. The bottom line is that we are all given amazing gifts to use and we mustn’t lose sight of the need to share them with each other. I may be able to paint a portrait, but write a symphony? I can kick a ball, but doubt I’ll ever be able to quilt a masterpiece. I’ll never help to build a rocket, become a doctor, be a preschool teacher, or compete in Hawaii’s Ironman Triathlon. It’s ok though, because God has asked other people to do those things, He’s asked me to do certain things and He’s asked you to do certain things. The beauty in His creation lies in it’s diversity, an idea that only 15 years ago was scoffed at in South Africa under apartheid rule. The shadow of that still casts itself on many of the people here, but signs of it’s dissipation are visible. Sometimes we must look deep within ourselves to bring out these gifts, but by doing so we are respecting the value that God has instilled in us. Think of it as re-gifting in a spiritual sense. So go on, make your joyful noise unto the Lord, whatever it may be!
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