Another week is almost over, and unbelievably we are just days away from the half-way point of our time away.  Time is flying by quickly now!  It’s a hot day today (about 33 degrees in the shade), and our little mud-walled cottage is like an oven inside!  Luckily, the temperature drops significantly when the sun goes down, so it is rarely uncomfortable for sleeping at night.  This is my favorite time of day (between 4:30 and 6pm), when everyone has left the office, Dan and the girls are up at the house, and I can gather my thoughts in the peaceful stillness and enjoy the warm breeze blowing in the windows.  My office window faces out into the jungle…a view that not many of you can claim to enjoy from your computer.

 

Today Dan and I and the girls helped to run a “fun day” for about 60 children from one of the valleys!  Lilith (our Dutch friend who is a drama therapist) planned this event for the children that she does therapy with in the schools.  These kids have been identified by their teachers as those who need therapy for issues related to grief, violence, and abuse.  We played games with them for a few hours, and gave them cookies, chips, juice, and balloons.  They laughed and cheered as Dan played “Simon Says” with them, and stared at amazement at the table of food and juice.  Many of them hugged us at the end and said, “I love you, I won’t forget you.”  It was yet another reminder of what a privilege it is to be here!

 

We are looking forward to a weekend away beginning at noon tomorrow!  We’ve been lucky enough to be invited on a tour to the big game (safari) park about 4 hours north east of here, since there is a group from GGA going and there was room in the van for our family.  We are all excited at the thought of seeing lions and elephants in their natural environment, and also pleased to have the chance to see a different part of SA.  I’m sure we’ll have stories to tell! 

 

But incase you’re thinking that life here is just fun and games, I must tell you that I’m still recovering from last weekend, when our “weekend work” task was to paint the (big!) ceiling in the (big!) new training room here in the office building.  This was a grueling task that left our entire bodies covered in paint, and our hands covered with blisters.  Imagine painting 60 individual sections of wooden ceiling with a wobbly roller on the end of a tree branch, with your neck hyper-extended and your body contorted as paint rains down into your eyes!  Let’s just say that we tried hard to keep our minds on all the deserving people who will receive training (in life skills, business management, health, and agriculture) in the finished room.  We also reminded each other that there’s something to be learned from every experience…I think Dan was supposed to learn that the renovations I ask him to do back home really aren’t that bad!   

 

One of the pictures we posted last week referred to a birthday party we attended 2 weeks ago.  Zama, one of the “teachers in training” at Dan’s preschool, invited us to her 21^st birthday.  This is a lavishly celebrated birthday and is sort of a “coming of age” celebration in the Zulu culture.  Dan has a special relationship with Zama and her family, since he recently helped Zama obtain a restraining order against her very abusive boyfriend, and encouraged her to stay at a women’s shelter temporarily.  In this process, he also met with Zama’s mother and older sister, and brought a social worker to talk to them.  Obviously, restraining orders and women’s shelters are not part of the traditional Zulu culture.  Traditionally, there would be protection for Zama from male members of the family, but there simply are no adult males in this family.  Zama’s family grouping consists of herself and her 5 year old daughter, her mother (the Gogo), her two sisters, and their various children.  Two of the children actually belong to a deceased family member, but are being raised by these ladies.  Since the boyfriend was threatening Zama’s life, some action had to be taken.  This was a difficult step, since this man is the father of Zama’s child, and a betrothal process was underway.  Zama spent some time at the shelter, and then was able to return with the restraining order.  Things seem to have settled down, and the message has been clearly sent that Zama wishes to end the relationship.

 

   To attend the party, we traveled down the standard dirt-roads-through-the-fields, and came to a cluster of 3 small huts.  I’m not sure if we’ve already explained this on a previous blog, but Zulus do not live in villages, but rather in family groupings.  One of the huts is a sleeping room, one is a kitchen, and one is a living area with a table and chairs.  This third hut was decorated with balloons and had obviously received a fresh coat of paint for the occasion!  We were greeted with great excitement, given the best chairs to sit on, and told to use the “nice” outhouse (instead of the one that was falling over) if the need arose. 

 

It became immediately obvious that these ladies had saved up for a long time to make this a special occasion, and a “store bought” cake was proudly presented.  The cake sat in the centre of the table all evening, and could only be eaten after hours of dancing and celebrating outside.  There were traditional Zulu elements to the party, like the birthday prayer and some special songs, but sadly we could also see many Western influences, like the free-flowing alcohol and the American music.  The huts themselves have no electricity, but a huge extension cord had been borrowed to feed the stereo system and speakers.  When the meat was ready, everyone grabbed a partner and formed a line, and then marched into the hut.  Our family was offered food first, and treated like the guests of honor.  The meat (we think it was beef?!) was excellent, and so were the putu and tomato salad that went with it.

This was certainly one of those moments when we were all thinking, “If only my friends could see me now!”  There we were, eating strange food in a candle-lit hut with a dirt floor, and singing and dancing with these lovely (if slightly intoxicated) folks.  All 50 or so of the people there were very disappointed when we left just before 10pm, since the party was to continue all night. 

 

This nice story actually has a sad ending.  When the white Afrikaners that we work for found out that we had gone into one of the valleys on our own to attend this party, we were given a stern talking-to about the dangers of “mixing” with the Zulu people, and were forbidden to use a GGA vehicle to do so in the future.  We have never been treated with anything other than respect and admiration by the Zulu people, but the white folks here are paralyzed by fear of them.  Even those who work at GGA and try to “help” black South Africans would never think of doing what we did.  This mistrust fuels the violence, and so the cycle continues.  We don’t want to be naive, and do realize that the years of racial strife and violence cannot be ignored.  The color of our skin does make us targets.  When it’s known that we are foreigners, we are treated with great respect, but from a distance we look like the white South Africans that have actively repressed black South Africans for decades.  We know there are risks, but Dan and I believe that one of our main purposes here is to break down the walls of fear and violence between the people we interact with.

 

The pervasive atmosphere of fear, mistrust, and conflict between black and white is our biggest challenge here.  These feelings are deep and strong, and affect every part of our lives.  We can feel the tension here at the farm, in the office, at the preschool, on the roads and at the grocery store.  Wherever there is black and white, there is fear and mistrust.  We are constantly told that it is “not safe”, and so every building has metal gates on its doors and windows.  We are told it’s not wise to walk around in the neighborhood, to go into the cities, or to go alone into the valleys.  I must admit that it’s particularly hard for me not to buy into the fears, since I feel responsible to protect our girls from danger.  Yet we want to reach out in trust, and not always assume the worst.  Please continue to pray that we will know our boundaries and clearly discern when situations should be avoided, but that we would also have the courage to take the steps needed to build bridges and relationships in the short time we’re here.

 

Cathy