The Great Leveler

It has been difficult to digest the recent events unfolding in South Africa. The media firestorm starring the likes of a young, arrogant, and unapologetic leader (Julius Malema) and the murder of one of South Africa’s most racist hate mongers (Eugene Terre’Blanche) has sadly cast a dark cloud over this country. With less than 50 days till the kick off of South Africa’s grandest celebration, the 2010 FIFA World Cup, many of the lingering wounds of apartheid are beginning to fester. I must start off by saying that despite the media’s sensationalized attention to these issues; the extreme racist rhetoric is not the norm among the majority of South Africans. In fact, it is quite the contrary. Most South Africans I have spoken with, whether black, white, coloured, or Indian, are fed up with the bigotry and are looking for real solutions.

After 15 years of ANC (African National Congress) rule South Africa has seen its share of ups and downs. No one in their right mind would have expected the near utopian republic cast in the constitution of this land, but many would argue that they are much further from the rainbow dreams of Mandela and Tutu than they thought they’d be 15 years on. Last year the country elected its 3rd president since the fall of apartheid. After the financial boom years and HIV/AIDS health crisis of the Mbeki administration* a charismatic and populist leader in Jacob Zuma took the stage. At this point last year many South Africans were ready for change, they were ready for a leader to move them once again in the spirit of Mandela, they were ready to put the power back in the hands of the people, to revive the spirit of reconciliation (sound familiar?). What they got was Zuma, while possessing nowhere near the stature of Mandela, he has made strides in a number of areas both Mandela and Mbeki neglected, most importantly the HIV/AIDS crisis, which could wipe out an entire generation in parts of the country if not dealt with swiftly*. And though Zuma’s HIV/AIDS initiatives are by far the most dynamic of the three post-apartheid presidents*, his personal mistakes are costing him dearly. He was involved in a rape scandal prior to being elected, the case was thrown out on a technicality. He also has been cited numerous times for his links to corrupt business practices, and more recently it came to light that he fathered a child out of wedlock, which might prove to be the last straw in many people’s eyes. A supreme moral compass for South Africa he is not, but I give him credit for trying to talk about solutions to the realities of HIV/AIDS, rampant crime, staggering unemployment, and spiraling poverty. I just pray that his words are not empty, for the sake of South Africa’s future.

The people of South Africa are generally a patient people. The things they put up with on a daily basis would make many Americans and other westerners weep or throw tantrums. This is not the easiest place to live in the world and I think the people here appreciate the value of their daily blessings. The majority live outside the realm of excessive comfort and do what they can to live life within their abilities. If you were to say that they don’t show signs of jealousy and envy because they don’t know what it’s like to have more, you would probably be wrong. I know how much many of my friends here long for the dream of owning a big house, nice car, and overseas vacations. They see what the rich minority have and they too want a piece of it. This might explain why South Africa has one of the highest recorded crime rates in the world. Even though most may want these status symbols, they look toward fair ways of attaining them, and a life of crime is not an option for the majority. I believe the same is true here as in most impoverished populations around the world; if given the opportunity to work for a fair wage one will do so. Finding dignity in what one does with their life is a human value that all should have the chance to live out in practice.

Jesus brought dignity back to humanity; it is one of the most important parts of His sacrifice for us. When he hung on the cross he leveled the playing field for us all. Whether a Wall Street banker living on Madison Ave. or an AIDS orphan in rural KwaZulu-Natal, no one holds power over anyone else when it comes to Christ. He is the game changer, the X-factor, if you will, when it comes to justice, compassion, and hope. A massive population starving for a better life, South Africans time after time turn away from the demons of greed, lust, and contempt, and instead to the One who has leveled the playing field, they put their lives in the hands of God. The politicians here could learn something from this, their people get it! Instead of driving his Mercedes Benz to deliver his next divisive speech, ANC Youth League President Julius Malema should think about hopping in a kombi to ride with the people once again*. Instead of allowing the terrible murder of Eugene Terre’Blanche, one of South Africa’s most hateful icons, fan the flames of indifference, the radical right and left should look at the middle. This is where the majority lies, this is where Christ lives. For centuries the name of God has been used to carry out some of the world’s gravest atrocities, its high time we realize where God is found, not as part of anyone’s radical agenda, but instead as the Great Leveler.

The problems faced by my South Africa brothers and sisters are common around much of the world. These are not necessarily new problems, and though born out of the apartheid regime, they, in some ways, have always been around. We give them new names and stories as times change and evolve, but human suffering is inherently born out of sin. Sin which exists through selfishness and greed, connected to us all. Fully sinners and saints, we enter each day with a choice; glorify God or play Satan’s game. When we allow corrupt politicians to abuse power we turn our backs on justice. When we allow thousands of children a day to die from starvation we turn our backs on compassion. When we allow the drum of racism to beat loud and clear we turn our back on love. Christ is the Great Leveler, he has given us the power to embrace justice, compassion, and love, but it is up to us to put His power into action. Love is the most powerful force in the universe, it is the only thing that trumps all else. The majority middle in South Africa know how powerful love is. They know from the lessons of history that it is love, not hate that will win out. Mandela didn’t sit in prison for 27 years plotting the demise of the purveyors of apartheid; instead he learned to love them, to forgive them, to see them as fellow brothers and sisters. I fear for the future of South Africa, not because the dreams of 15 years ago are unattainable, but because the radical voices on the fringes are gaining strength. My hope is that the middle ground will cultivate the future, showing their strength through love and pragmatism. If love is their centerpiece anything is possible. What does it mean if we are no greater or less than anyone else? It is an empowering thought indeed, Christ gave us a chance to embody this through His death, how can we help to level the playing field?

* Facts and themes were taken from the following issues of the Mail & Guardian
-March 12-18, 2010 Muzzle Malema, No! & It’s About the Big Picture; pgs 2&3
-March 19-25, 2010 Malema’s Media War; pg 6
-April 9-15, 2010 Idiotocracy; pgs 2-6

M.u.d.dy in Maphumulo is Back!!!

After a two month hiatus from my M.u.d.dy in Maphumulo blog I am excited to share once again. I apologize for the giant gap of time between posts, but the last couple of months have been a lesson in great patience in regards to internet access. After a slew of various problems, from power surges to phone lines being cut, it has been frustrating, but something we've just had to deal with. Though our situtaion is not fully rectified I will plan on making my way into Stanger or Durban to add new posts once every few weeks. I hope you enjoy the following post "Hope Rises from the Ashes", my first new entry since February 9th. Please feel free to comment and share with me your thoughts moving forward. Having just wrapped up a soccer tournament focusing on peace and diversity and with the SED HIV/AIDS Launch and a trip to Mozambique on the horizon, I look forward to sharing more in the coming weeks and months. May the Lord bless and keep you during this glorious season of Easter and may we all find ways to seek justice, sow peace, and love in God's light.

Hope Rises from the Ashes

We arrived as the last of their belongings were being pulled from the charred shell that was once their home. Mama Mabaso said she heard it was started by a candle left burning on the bedside table. The only thing that was absolute in this moment was that in a single afternoon the lives for three people in the village of Umphumulo forever changed. It’s difficult to explain the scope of something like this to an American audience that lives in a world of insurance, legalities, and an overall greater pool of wealth. And though I’m by no means trying to minimize the effects of destruction that comes with house fires in the US, or any other type of disaster, the fact of the matter is that the process of rebuilding one’s life is very different here and at times becomes a seemingly impossible task. Before the final flames were extinguished families started to arrive with food, blankets, and clothing to share with those who lost everything. This outpouring of Ubuntu reminds me of the early church and its social dynamics of communal support for one another. This idea is highlighted in Acts 4:32&34-35, “Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common…There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what they sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.” I found myself in awe at the site, as if I was witnessing a meeting of the early Christians. Adults were comforting each other, praying and discussing ways to help, children running and playing tag around the clothes line, a few men looking through the charred furniture and household goods to try and salvage pieces of their neighbor’s former life. As I stood by the bedroom window peering into the blackened room of ashes I bowed my head and said a prayer asking for God’s intervention of comfort. It was one of the most heartfelt emotional prayers I have ever offered; I knew that the road ahead would be one of immense struggle for this family. They had spent years saving to buy this beautiful, humble 4 room house perched on top of one of the many hills that dot the landscape of the village. And now, it was gone, with only a few cabinets, a hotplate, and the clothes on their backs they would now contemplate the next step. With no money to pay for an insurance policy (the stunning reality of many black South Africans) they won’t be able to rebuild. Thankfully they have family nearby, who will take them in, indefinitely, which is customary in Zulu culture. If some one loses one’s home, it is the duty of their closest relative to provide them with shelter. Same goes for children who lose their parents, if there are relatives nearby, they must take in, and care for the children. This is why many homes are overflowing in KwaZulu-Natal and much of South Africa. HIV/AIDS, natural disasters, fires, and other life-changing events have created a culture of bearing the burdens of all families together within the community. Although it is a beautiful part of the Ubuntu way of life, all too often the stresses of such a practice can make survival nearly impossible. But, as with everything else here, people find a way, they pick up the pieces, they move on, and they do so with a faith in God that rarely waivers during life’s storms. It is this idea that I cherish most within the Zulu culture and one I hope to bring with me when I leave this land in August. I hope not only to keep it as a principle of which to strive towards, but to put it into daily practice. I think that we, as Americans, get too caught up in the rat-race of our lives. We lose sight of the values instilled in us by our Creator. God has given us all an ability to deal with life’s storms in ways that are both constructive and positive. He has equipped us with a sense of shared responsibility for our fellow brothers and sisters. All too often our busy lives of excess, wealth, and future-based thought processes create a vacuum into which much of reality get sucked away,becoming a foreign understanding. We’ve are in bondage to a life of coffee runs, meetings, school activities, business trips, TV programming, internet addiction (come live in South Africa if you want to kick that habit), and texting mayhem. We’ve become alien to the very existence God has created for us. Now I’m not suggesting a Starbucks boycott, severing ties with clients, nixing the school play, and throwing out the TV and computer, but I am suggesting that we begin to look closer at the lives we lead. Are we really living our daily lives walking in the light of Christ? Do we find God’s purpose in our daily actions and interactions with His creation? When is the last time you skipped American Idol to teach a child to sing? When was the last time you bought a cup of coffee for the homeless man on the corner instead of a double espresso latte for yourself? When was the last time you helped out your neighbor in their time of need? I ask these questions not because I’m some saint who has been engaging in such a life myself, I’m asking because quite the opposite is true. Before coming to South Africa I never honestly connected with the selfless side of my being. Sure I helped with my church’s Creation Care Team, pitched in with Sunday school, and raised money walking in the annual Minnesota HIV/AIDS Walk, but these are all things that fall under the “sometimes Christ-like” category. I’m not talking about being guilted into a life of service, I believe this only results in empty actions, not faith-based ones. What I am trying to say is that we need to look deeper into scripture to search for our inspiration and be true to God's purpose in our daily lives. No one has all the answers; no magic key exists to unlock Christ’s teachings to better our lives, sorry Joel Osteen. Instead this is the work of the Holy Spirit alive in us combined with an internal motivation to allow Her to work through us. Luther was a role model in his dissection and questioning of scripture, his formulation of faith, and his understanding of Grace. We need to take Luther’s lead and let go of rigid preconceptions of what the Word means, instead allowing the living, breathing Word to speak to us and inspire us in our daily lives. Living “sometimes Christ-like” is a great start to living Christ-like consistently. It’s an enriching experience witnessing Ubuntu first hand. Seeing all of those families in my village who reached out immediately during their neighbors’ time of need was a lesson to us all. There was no email sent to them entitled “We’ll try and think of something” or a phone message left saying “I’ll check to see what I can do and get back to you”. No, they simply dropped what they were doing and pitched in. Times of great struggle often happen under the worst circumstances and to the most forgotten among us. The recent earthquakes in Haiti and Chile are fresh reminders of this fact. I am always amazed and touched by the outpouring of support from people all over the world during these times. These acts of kindness give us all hope that no matter what flames engulf our lives, we can and we will rise from the ashes. We need to see the needs of our brothers and sisters both in a global context and in our own back yards. How can we, as Christians, apply this mentality to our daily lives? Why does it take a global catastrophe to spawn such a response? Where was the outpouring of global support for Haiti during decades of decay and despair? Why do we decide to stop the bickering, withdraw our motives, put down our weapons, and extend our hands only in these times? And why does it sometimes seem easier for us to send help and money to the rural village in Africa, Asia, or South America while ignoring those in need in our own communities? These questions will continue to haunt humanity until we can find a way to really become one with God’s dream. But that dream has already been cast in an understanding that our collective good will outweigh the bad, that our faith in God and each other can surpass anything, and by keeping the love of Christ in our hearts we will ultimately walk the paths of justice and compassion. It will take time to get to this point of interconnected understanding, but it can start with you, me, us. Take some time observing your community’s needs in the coming days and weeks. Once you have a better understanding of those needs, make a plan to engage yourself. Only if it is one day of volunteering at a soup kitchen, tutoring a child, donating clothes, or walking for a cause; it is one step closer to realizing God’s dream. Imagine what your community would look like if each person took one day to engage themselves in this way. What a difference it could make, how many lives could be positively transformed? Much like the communities of rural KwaZulu-Natal we all are called to bare the burdens in each others’ lives; it is the meaning of the cross of Christ. As we experience the glory of Easter born from the reflective season of Lent consider what you can do in your community to help its own transformation into new life. What blankets, food, and clothing will you bring to comfort those in need? How can we help others rise from the ashes and give them hope? Lets truly become Easter people and fulfill God’s will!

Angels & Demons

Africa is a continent of extremes. Some of these extremes are experienced by the swift changes in weather, some are found in the stark contrasts of landscapes. Others lie within the austere socioeconomic structures, while others are found through the vibrant ethnicities, tribes, and cultures that make up Africa. I will never fully experience these extremes during my time here; one couldn’t begin to do so in a lifetime, let alone a year. With that said, I would like to reflect upon one very overwhelming extreme, one that I encounter on a daily basis, and one that will forever be ingrained in my mind, the battle between angels and demons.

I’ve found my faith continuing to cultivate in ways I never imagined. Each day brings with it a new profound way of looking at God’s creation and how interconnected it is. From the rain and sunshine that stimulate the banana trees to bare fruit, fruit which in turn is picked and sold to sustain a living. Outreach projects helping to create systems to provide clean water and electricity to people living in rural areas. Children who find inspiration to grow and learn, to one day become leaders of this nation, to work towards building a truly equal society. These are not fairy tales of the village, these are the beautiful reminders I see, living realities that conjure up a sense of hope deep within my soul. These are the angels of this place.

Last week we had the honor of hosting a group of Americans from the Southwest Minnesota Synod. These partners in faith came to experience the angels of South Africa, to not only connect with their sister diocese (ELCSA-SED) but to connect with the Spirit moving through the people here. But by experiencing the angels one must also see the demons. It was interesting to sit in on a reflection gathering the first evening they stayed at the Umphumulo Church Centre. They spoke of how much they shifted internally since arriving a mere week and half earlier. Their heart strings had been pulled, plucked, and strummed in so many unforeseen ways. Many talked about their preconceptions of South Africa, many of it sounded so familiar, echoing my own list from five months ago. Time and again a story was told that reflected a moment when God revealed Himself to them in some way or another. Whether through the embrace of a host or the smile of a child, God’s light was shining as they walked through this land. It reignited something in me, as well as my fellow volunteers Kate and Heather, also visiting with us. We all spoke of this renewed energy and thanked them for sharing their own stories of transformation; it was a moment of Umbuntu. We are because they are…they are because we are. The group met with church leaders and spent valuable time rekindling each others’ spirit of partnership. Angels were with us during this time of reflection, growth, and renewal. A new sense of communal commitment sprouted and I believe it will bare a multitude of fruit in the future. Spending time with our partners from Minnesota and watching firsthand the embodiment of accompaniment is something that I will cherish. The body of Christ living in us all, even though thousands of miles separate us, we are ONE.

Indeed Africa is filled with angels, but it is also consumed by demons. Another part of our time was spent reflecting upon the many challenges South Africa faces, the daily demons it must battle. The demons of poverty, greed, racism, crime, corruption, hunger, disease, addiction, and inequality have long poisoned this land. Sadly I have witnessed these demons at work in my daily life; I have seen the face of the Devil lurking in the shadows, this is his playground as well. As I watch the little boy lay in his hospital bed, so malnourished he has no energy to shed even one tear, I see the demons. I watch as a man stumbles up the road, barely able to walk, drunk at 10 am on a Tuesday, the demons are casting their shadows. On my way to catch a taxi from Durban to Stanger, someone comes up behind me, places his hand on my hip and demands my phone. Startled I raise my hands as he reaches into my pocket, grabs it, and runs. As I turn, I see it’s a “child”, no more than 15 years old, I see in him the demons of despair. Africa is a land of extremes, it is a land of angels and demons, and it is a land of unimaginable hope and unbearable misery.

We know from scripture that good will triumph over evil, that God will deal the final blow to Satan and his army. And while this gives us all a foundation of hope for the future, we mustn’t sit on the sidelines; waiting for God to do all the work. He has equipped us to battle these forces, here and now! We are called by Him to seek justice, to put on the Armor of God, and to entrench ourselves in this war against evil… a mighty fortress is our God! This war can’t be quantified by our worldly view of war, it isn’t about guns and tanks, it is about love over hate, unity over divisiveness, and hope over despair. This is about understanding the demons that plague this earth and using God’s will, our faith, and His love to conquer them. This is finding the angels that surround us and using them to inspire and enrich us. This is a group of 30 Minnesotans boarding a plane to Africa to reach out to their brothers and sisters in Christ, and having those same brothers and sisters waiting to embrace them upon their arrival. This is about looking at the boy who robbed me as a victim of injustice, not condoning his act, but understanding the root of the injustice and helping to find a way to end the cycle. This is about God’s bountiful gifts given to us as a means by which to triumph over the brokenness of our world.

Bishop Buthelezi made a declaration during our time with our American partners. He said, “The only thing that connects us all is the gift of Grace.” Really think about that, through Grace we are connected no matter who we are or where we come from. Rich, poor, short, tall, fat, skinny, man, woman, black, white, gay, straight, young, old, American, South African…we are all connected by the gift of Grace. This means that we are all in this together interconnected by Grace, through Faith, to seek God’s will in each others lives. When our American friends came to Africa they saw angels, they witnessed demons, and they were connected by Grace.

Journey to Stanger

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.

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!

Kombi Ride

With the Christmas season upon us I decided to take the liberty of witting some new lyrics to one of my favorite holiday songs. I hope you had a merry Christmas and best wishes for the new year! Enjoy!

The following definitions will help you with
the lyrics to the song:

Kombi: mini bus taxis found throughout Africa
and are usually overfilled with people
and known for blasting local music

House Music: South African Dance music that
originated in the black townships,
also know as Township Funk

Sawubona: Traditional Zulu greeting for “Hello”

Cane: Slang for Sugar Cane, which is the number
one export of KwaZulu-Natal

Tea (afternoon tea): As in many former British colonies, tea time
is still celebrated in much of South Africa

Kwaito: South Africa’s hip-hop music, like house, it
originated in the townships, mostly around
Johannesburg, Durban, and Cape Town

Braai: South African barbeque, used as both a noun
and a verb

Bohr Voors: South Africa sausages, usually cooked at
braais

Rooiboos: A sweet red tea only grown in South Africa,
also known by the locals as bush tea

Mutton: sheep meat, used in many curry dishes

Vuvuzela: South African horn, usually played at
soccer matches; the sound of thousands
of them is much like a loud bee hive

Kombi Ride
(To the Tune of Sleigh Ride)

Just hear that house music blastin’,
And horns a honkin’ too
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a kombi ride together with you
Outside the sun is shinning
and friends are greeting “Sawubona” to you,
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a kombi ride together with you.

Rev it up, rev it up, rev it up,
let's go, no ride is the same,
We're riding in a wonderland of cane.
Rev it up, rev it up, rev it up,
it's grand, Just holding your hand,
We're flying along with a song
of a hot local house band

Our cheeks are hot and sweaty
and warm and ready are we
For a dip in the Indian Ocean
to cool ourselves before tea.
Let's take that road before us
and sing a kwaito chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a kombi ride together with you.

There's a braai party
at the home of Baba Khathi
There’ll be so many people to greet and see.
We'll be singing the songs
we love to sing without a single stop
At the braai stand while we watch
the bohr voors pop. pop! pop! pop!

There's a happy feeling
nothing in the world can buy
When we pass around the Rooiboos
and the mutton pie
Vuvuzelas buzzin’ just like crazy bee hives
These wonderful things are the things
we remember all through our lives!

Just hear that house music blastin’,
And horns a honkin’ too
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a kombi ride together with you
Outside the sun is shinning
and friends are greeting “Sawubona” to you,
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a kombi ride together with you.

It's lovely weather for a kombi ride together with you
It's lovely weather for a kombi ride together with you
(in place of the traditional horse sound add the sound of screeching tires)