An Ivory Tower Experience in Grahamstown

Monday, 9 August

After a whirlwind week of touring the 3rd largest Township in the country, including a chat and a dance with traditional healers; experiencing some of the tragedy, hardship and hope of some schools, orphanages and palliative care centers in Informal Settlements; learning of the history of liberation from Apartheid at the Biko Center; living with the families and children of several schools in the mountains northwest of East London; and the wonderful, beautiful outdoor education center at Hobbiton on Hogsback Mountain, suddenly we found ourselves entering the university city of Grahamstown.

This proved to be a respite, transitional day for us.  We had an appointment to visit with Bill Demeris of the Center of the Transfiguration, an Anglican theological seminary in a lovely residential area of Grahamstown.  It felt like we were in driving through the campus of Hamilton College or Colgate University.  We were to meet with the seminarians at the school to talk with them about some of the projects in which they are involved around the city.

It was a beautiful but cold and windy day for a walk.  But walk we did around the seminary campus and then through the campus of neighboring Rhodes University, named after the famous British explorer and empire builder of the nineteenth century.  Again, we could have been walking through any campus in New England or New York.  It felt so different from the South Africa that we had been experiencing.

We had lunch at the seminary and toured a couple of the projects in which the seminarians are involved: a school and orphanage for boys.  As it turned out, the available seminary students and the tour of the projects were limited because it was Women's Day in South Africa, a national holiday.  This meant that many students were away and projects were on holiday staffing mode.  We were happy to learn about Women's Day from the leader of the Moravian contingent of our Group, Frances Titus.

Frances shared some background with us that she found on Wikipedia.

On 9 august 1956, 20,000 women staged a march on the Union Buildings in Pretoria to protest the proposed amendments to the Urban Areas Act of 1950.  They left bundles of petitions containing more than 100,000 signatures at prime minister J.G. Strijdom's office doors.  Outside they stood silently for 30 minutes, many with their children on their backs.  Those who were working for whites as nannies were carrying their white charges with them.  Women sang the protest song, composed for the occasion, "Now you have struck the women, your have struck a rock."  In the 54 years since, the phrase "you strike a woman, you strike a rock" has come to represent women's courage and strength in South Africa.  Since 9 August 1994, the day has been commemorated annually and is known as Women's Day in South Africa.

During our tour of Grahamstown we also went to the museum commemorating the British takeover of the city during the reign of King George IV.  There is a fort next to the museum with the cannon pointing down the steep promontory commanding the city.  One South African pointed out that his ancestors that fought the British artillery with spears didn't stand a chance.

That night we were glad to accept the peaceful and beautiful hospitality of a community of Benedictine monks at their monastery.  The rooms were lovely, complete with windows overlooking a beautiful valley and the best showers we had experienced to date!  We shared dinner with them that night (delicious soup, bread and salad) and breakfast (in silence) with them on Tuesday.  We were not able to share in worship with them.  Women's Day was a holiday for them, too.  So, they were did not follow the normal schedule of "offices".

We did have a group meeting that night to prepare for our upcoming visit to the Scotia and Addo Game Reserves and the subsequent visit to the Moravians in the Port Elizabeth area.  Afterward I posted some overdue blogs about our trip.  Internet access is less available in South African than in the USA.  Fortunately, the monastery had it!

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

In the Shire

Saturday, August 7 and Sunday August 8

We spent the weekend in Hobbiton an outdoor educational center on Hogsback Mountain.  Hobbiton was founded in 1944.  A couple of years after they started some counselor decided to read J.R.R. Tolkiens' book, The Hobbit, to the children at the camp.  From that reading came the name for the camp.

Hobbiton is a camp  We slept in dormitories in two rooms filled with double bunk beds.  (Actually, the older adults had their own bedrooms.)  The camp specializes in team building and personal development through rope courses, rappeling, hiking  to the Madonna and Child waterfall and other such activities.  Our group tried some of these both on Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

We have been fortunate with the weather.  The sky has been almost a clear blue with temperatures in the 70's and 80's throughout.  One Saturday night the weather began to change.  The temperature began dropping as the winds picked up.  On Sunday morning we worshiped in the Newtown United Congregational Church.  I preached.  Walter Schneider, the chaperone from the EKHN celebrated communion, and members of the group sang a song, led prayers and read the scriptures.  Driving to and from Newtown and walking to and from the vans into the church was an exercise in fighting a very stiff breeze.  Still, this was nothing to the misty rain that began falling Sunday night and the very chilly temperatures that ensued thereafter.

On Sunday night our driver, Monte, arranged a nice gathering at the home of his sister in law, on the mountain near Hobbiton.  She had two roaring fires going and some nice refreshments.  Still we were very cold.  We had gotten spoiled by all of the nice weather to the point the we had forgotten that it is winter in South Africa!

Hobbiton was a perfect respite for us.  We were able to relax and have fun as a group.  It was wonderful!

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

Looking to the Hills, Part Two

Friday, August 6

After a good night's sleep in Hopefield, we awoke to the sounds of the morning, roosters crowing, people going off to work.  We also readied ourselves for another day at the school.  The day before we were asked by Headmaster Koti to prepare and opening devotional ceremony complete with an inspirational speech.  I agreed to do the devotional.  Ben Lukens and Kristina Frenette agreed to do the speech.

Only one portion of our group arrived on time for the opening devotional (the group of which I was a part).  Not even the headmaster nor most of the teachers were there.  But I led the devotional and we sent the children to their classrooms.  Those of us that were present also went into the classes with the children.

The older Hopefield learners and our group were scheduled to go to a neighboring school to meet with the students and recruit them to come to Hopefield when they reached the older grade levels. 

We had an assembly in the school yard.  Ben and Kristina did they speech.   Everyone seemed to enjoy it.  Some of the learners did some skits, and the Hopefield Choir performed some songs.

After another enjoyable morning, we returned to Hopefield and had lunch.  By then it was time for adjournment.  School usually adjourns around 1:00 on Fridays.  It was then after 2:00. 

Not having any more students to went to a near  by reservoir and then into town to pick up some sodas and snacks.  We then returned to our host families for a good night of fellowship and sleep.

These "home stays" are very enjoyable.  Life is at once different and the same.  Most of us in New York do have indoor plumbing with sinks and showers and toilets.  The household in which I stayed had none of these.  There was an outhouse with a flush toilet.  But we didn't go out there after the house was locked up by our host.  We washed in a basin with water heated on the stove.  (It was interesting shaving this way.)  So life is somewhat different than that to which we are used.  But much is the same.  We can talk about the world cup.  They watch a South African soap opera on TV.  Children go to school.  Parents work.  And we all are blessed.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

Looking to the Hills

Wednesday, August 5

Today is a traveling day.  Up for breakfast at 6:00 in order to get on the road by 7:00 (quite a feat for a group of 22).  We did it, though.  We needed to be in Fort Beaufort by 9:00 to start our work in some rural schools.  Actually, we divided our group so that half of us would work in the Newtown Township primary school (outside of Fort Beaufort) and in the village of Hopefield (about a 50 minute drive from Fort Beaufort).

Even though we got started on time, we ended up being 30 minutes late in Newtown and then an hour late in Hopefield.  Headmaster Neville McDonald greeted us warmly in Newtown.  He quickly gathered the entire student body to greet us.  A choir of the older learners (they do not call them students) regaled us with song.  Those of us that were going on to Hopefield then piled into our van and headed farther up into the hills.

The Hopefield group was greeted by the leader of the student body, 13 year old Sibonekuhle Mabandla.  She took us to greet the headmaster Xolani Koti and his staff of teachers.  Since we were late, classes were well under way.  Therefore, we filtered into different classrooms.  Of course, our relationship with the children and teachers was a little stilted at first.  But soon everyone seemed to get used to being together.  After lunch, we became much more adept at relating to the children.

I walked into a room to pick up my backpack that I had left when we met the teachers.  It was quiet and dark, so I was surprised to see about 10 learners sitting there. They were waiting for their teacher.  So, I sat down and we started to chat.  They asked me questions about New York and the US.  I also asked them about their life. 

One of our group, Kristina Frenette from Amherst also came in and joined the conversation.  She asked them what they wanted to be when they left school.  Each of them had a ready answer (they had obviously been thinking about it).  Two said they wanted to be nurses, two more said they wanted to be social workers, another wanted to be a policeman, another a journalist, another a veteranarian and the last an attorney.  Later, I asked their teacher about the chances of them realizing their dreams.  He said that a couple of them might be successful.  I still had hope that more than some would become the people about whom they dreamed.

This small country school has a great choir, well rehearsed in the songs that they sing and in the dances that accompany the singing.  We were given many examples of their work.  And were amazed and grateful.

Our group of 12 (including our driver, Monte) then divided up again to go with our hosts for the night.  Supper was to be with our hosts.  My group of four (two Germans -- Josephin and Isabelle -- Sarah and I) stayed with one of the teachers.  We were so exhausted by the time we arrived at dusk that we were all falling asleep before supper.  We ate, then went right to our rooms by 8:00.  Everyone, host family and guests were in bed with the lights out by 9:00.

What a great day!

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

"I write what I want"

Steve Biko was a great and inspirational leader of the anti-apartheid movement.  He grew up in a township outside of King Williams Town (about an hour's drive from East London).  He was killed in prison in 1989 at the age of 30.  We visited the Steve Biko Foundation in King Williams Town, learned of his life, visited his grave and the last house in which he was place on house arrest.

In a book of lectures on Biko's life and works Chinua Achebe wrote of Biko, "A young man with a sharp intellect and a flair for organization and leadership, Biko realised the need to raise the sagging morale of black people, to raise their consciousness and self-esteem; in his own words to 'overcome the psychological oppression of black people by whites.'"

It was an honor to get to know more about this courageous and brilliant man who wrote what he wanted in trying to lift the sense of self worth and determination of the black majority in South Africa.

This was a good but tiring day.  After a late lunch we were scheduled to go the "Great House" a museum of indigenous tribal life at the site of the "Great House" of a King of the area members of a Xhosa tribe.  It was interesting, but we were too exhausted to pay attention.  We did not stay long.

One of our drives, Byron Jonas, invited us back to his house for a cookout.  We agreed to go out of obligation to him.  Afterall, we were exhausted.  As it turned out it was one of the best things we did.  We had a great time, got to be with his family (wife Yolanda, his daughter and son).  It was our last night in East London, and even though we had to get up early the next morning we stayed until 11:00.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

Never Give Up

Tuesday, August 2

It was a day of beginnings and endings for us in East London.  On the docket were visits to the Samaritan Care Centre, a palliative care clinic and outreach program supported by Common Global Ministries, and Isiah 58 a school and orphanage.  We split up the group between the two places in the morning, ate lunch at the Samaritan Care Centre then swapped in the afternoon.

I spent the morning with the Samaritan Care Centre.  We toured the building, met the staff and the patients and walked around the neighborhood to see several of the people suffering from HIV/AIDS that the Centre treats.  Such visits are heartrending and hard.  The patients rarely have anything to say.  They are sick!  And, we are strangers.  Plus they live in such horribly foreign conditions to us that it is difficult to stay very long.

In one home that we visited the patient was out doing something.  He was a man of 40 suffering from AIDS.  We spoke with his mother, father and sister and prayed with them.  The caregivers also need much prayer.  This household had already lost one son.  Now, another seemed well on the way.

In the afternoon we visited Isaiah 58.  What a contrast this school and orphanage was to the others that we had seen.  It was established about 30 years ago by Christians with an established mind for how to run a business.  The buildings, all donated by various international service organizations, were in good repair, and the interiors were clean.

The executive director runs a tight ship.  When he speaks the children jump.  Still it is obvious that he adores the children.  We spent nearly two hours playing with the children. They also sang for us.  One of these was the school song, entitled, "We will never give up."  Knowing the poverty and the hardships whence they came, the song was quite moving.

It was hard to leave, but leave we must.  And so, we returned to the hotel, went out to dinner at Guidos again, then back to the hotel and bed.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles

When Separate is Not Equal

Monday, August 2

The affects of apartheid remain in the Townships and "Informal Settlements" on the outskirts of cities and towns throughout the country.

Today we took a tour of Mdantsane Township outside of East London. Mdantsane is the 3rd largest township in South Africa.  Mdantsane is located about 5 km outside of the city.  Closer in is the Informal Settlement of Duncan Village.  It is a horrible warren of tin and scrap wood and cardboard shacks crowded in every available knook and cranny between more conventional neighborhoods.

In the Village we first stopped at a Creche(a nursery school)  The school "campus" consisted of four steel storage bins that had been brightly paintede inside and out that served as classrooms.  These housed four classes of about 100 children total.  They crowded around us when we stepped inside their classrooms.  They love to have their photos taken, especially when we can show the photos to them immediately from our digital cameras.  They sang their "ABC's" and we all sang, "Jesus love me". It was very hard to leave.  In fact many of us were wiping tears from our eyes.

The tears continued to flow as we then went to an orphanage in the Village.  A woman living there looked around her and saw the great needs of the children in her neighborhood.  So many were victims of abusive, drug addicted and/or HIV/AIDS infected parents.  She decided to do something about it.  She started an orphanage.  It was a pretty downtrodden place.  The one building was under construction, but had hit a "funding snag".  So the construction had stopped.  They have four walls and a roof, but little else in the main dormitory.  There is an adjacent building that serves as a classroom. The children sleep on small plastic mats on dusty floors.  It was very sad.  One of our group walked away shaking her head saying, "We take so much for granted."  I thought how even this ramshackle place was better than those places whence those children came.

The Township was the foundation of Apartheid South Africa.  Blacks, coloreds and Indians were each provided separate sections of these townships.  The townships were placed far out of town.  Most of these had one road leading to them.  It was a fine way of controlling any potential disturbances among the inhabitants.  Of course, the whites lived in the cities. 

Apartheid, like Jim Crow laws in the United States were insidious means of disenfranchising and keeping entire segments of the population in poverty.  Even with Apartheid ended, the Townships and the poverty remain.  In part this is due to the pretty steady improvements in the lives of those living in the townships.  There are now shopping malls in the Townships.  New houses are also being built.

Life in the Informal Settlements seems to remain in rather constant misery.  But at least there is some improvement in the Townships.

One of the fascinating parts of our "Township Tour" was our visit to a cluster of Natural Healers.  We spent about an hour with them, learning about what it takes to train to become a healer, what is involved in the healing process, as well as a time to ask questions.  Some interest learnings about the Natural Healers is that theirs is a mixture of the indigenous worship of the ancestors along with Christianity.  We were told that each member of the healing clan was a Christian.  They also said that most of them served on the boards of the local health clinic.

Quite a day followed by a good dinner at an Italian bistro, then off to our rooms.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles