Friday, July 13, 2007
Kwa Thema Concert
Much has been made of the audience's response to the Senior Choir's singing in Kwa Thema. Here is an example of what we experienced.... while Jennifer Riley and the Senior Choir performed Moses Hogan's "Great Day," the audience grew progressively more enthusiastic. The high pitching warbling you hear from the audience is "ulalation". http://www.bmpc.org/GreatDay.mp3
Personal Reflections from a Singer
What follows are the reflections of Tim Starn, one of our singers... Thanks, Tim!
June 28, 2007
The flight from JFK to Johannesburg, with a stop in Dakar, Senegal, was long (17 hours), but I’ve never been on a more accommodating airline. Thank you, South Africa Air. Our hotel in the Johannesburg area is called the Airport Grand, but it isn’t very near the airport. The only thing connecting it with the airport is that it is in the planes’ take-off pattern. There are several shops and a mall near us; also, several car and motorcycle dealerships. This is apparently an affluent area. I’m trying to check out the night sky, but there is too much light pollution. I can make out part of the Southern Cross.
June 29, 2007
We were bussed into the heart of Johannesburg this morning. Now we can see the countryside clearly. When we first landed, it was near dark. This being winter, dark is around 5:30 pm. The region is a mile above sea level. Several stony ridges cut the terrain. The soil is red, rocky, and looks very hard. It makes me wonder what the Beor farmers were looking for when they started their great trek. Seems like they picked a lousy direction to go find land to farm. But come they did and the rest is history.
Plant life appears scarce by Southeastern PA standards, but who can say since this is wintertime. The only plants I can recognize are sycamore trees. They are abundant but, of course, lacking leaves just now. Most of the other vegetation seems more suited for a dry climate; cacti, some palms, a tree that sort of looks like eucalyptus. Surface streams are rare. I count only two the whole day.
As we drive in toward town, there are shanties here and there. They look foreign juxtaposed as they are against the businesses, homes, and modern highways. People are collecting scraps of wood for heat. One man was sitting next to a burning stump for warmth. In many places there have been grass fires. At first I thought they might be planned to clear vegetation around the highway interchanges, but now I bet they are an accidental result of people trying to warm themselves.
Our trip takes us through neighbors of all kinds; Black, Jewish, Chinese, and White, I suppose. Much of the construction is reminiscent of Tucson with the close houses and tile roofs. In these neighborhoods the homes can only be compared to either fortresses or prisons. I’m not sure which one best represents them. Every home is surrounded by spiked fences or walls with razor wire. Some have electrified fences. No window goes unbarred. I’m not sure what to think of it. We are told it is because level of crime is so high that the only way to manage your homeowner’s insurance is to have this level of security.
Even businesses and high rises have fences around them. Back where we are staying, the hotel is right next to a series of shops, but you cannot walk from one shop to the next without going to the main entrance of the hotel and walk all the way around the fence. You wouldn’t dare climb over the fences here in South Africa. They are topped with spikes and razors. I started wondering about when the day would come that the people here could finally tear down the fences, literally. However, upon reflection I doubt they would. I am starting to believe that this security is part of the culture, now. The original settlers fenced off the land for their farms, much to the chagrin of the pastoralist natives. Maybe some of the fencing is there because culture dictates that everything should be fenced.
In Johannesburg, we ride around an enormous statue representing the hard labor and contributions of South Africa’s miners. At a stop in the business district we see more mementos of mining’s importance here. An old trip hammer is set in the square and down the street is a teeple. These things are familiar to me from my grandfather’s coal mining days and stories. Our guide identifies the mystery trees around here as eucalyptus. They were imported from Australia and grown for their value as support timber in the mines. The wood is loaded with oil and does not easily rot in the high temperatures and humidity deep in the earth’s bowels. While I’m getting ahead of myself, on the way out of town we see the final, and most enormous, monument to mining; the mine tailings. They are man-made mountains stretching as far as I can see! The world must be hollow beneath our feet.
Johannesburg = chaos. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’ve just never seen so many people rambling around. I’m surprised not to see bicycles here. Also, very very few motorcycles. It’s all cars and pedestrians. From pictures of chaotic cities that Carolyn has visited, it is all bikes, motorbikes, and people. Away from the city I see many people on motorcycles.
At St. Mary’s Anglican Church, we meet Sidumo Jacobs who puts us through our paces teaching us hymns for Sunday’s worship. We sort of suck at pronunciation, but the reverb is so awesome in this place that, eh, it pretty much all blends together. Regardless, we will give it our best.
All the cars here, like in Europe, are small. I’m not sure if they are diesel or not. Judging from the selections on the pumps at the gas stations I’ve seen I would guess it is about 50/50. Side note: only one octane level is available: 93. What is interesting is that a large percentage of cars have trailer hitches. I haven’t seen any cars pulling a trailer, but it must be common. I wish America would get off of its huge car kick. You rarely see anything that might be called an SUV, and if you do it is full of people.
June 30, 2007
Apartheid Museum: Not much to say, at this point. Apartheid was wrong. It was cruel. We had similar sins in our own country. Here, however, separation was a matter of State policy and it led them closer to a state of civil war. What amazes me most through it all was the strength of the leaders who guided the people to freedom. The Gandhi’s, King’s, and Mandela’s of the world are so rare and precious. They are a breed near godliness. Anyone can be a “strong man” leader. Fear, intimidation, deceit, and cronyism don’t take any special skills to master (you reading this, George, Dick?). Anyone who only cares for their self can bully people this way.
Soweto: Soweto is huge. It isn’t a neighborhood or a town. In fact, Soweto is an acronym for “southwest township”. Funny moment… our guide told us not to feel pity for the inhabitants of Soweto. They have poverty, but they have each other and a strong sense of community. We, on the other hand, have George Bush so he felt sorry for us!
Still, Soweto does have basic problems. Well, parts of it. Some of Soweto looked like any other part of Johannesburg’s suburbs. In places, however, you’ll find blocks of extreme poverty. Quite literally, the people live in shanties built from whatever basic materials happen to be at hand. Running down the dirt streets is an open sewage line. It forms a little creek between the shanties; a constant stream of sewer water flowing through it. Children play in the dirt next to it. I can’t help but wonder how disease is kept to a minimum, here. True, HIV/AIDS is the prevalent health problem, but you really have to wonder how water-borne diseases like cholera are kept at bay.
Pam’s crèche is a school for the children of shantytown we visited. The children, ages preschool to high school, manage in a three-room classroom environment. They are sweet kids. The work Pam’s people do with them is important and clearly valuable. The different age groups sang and danced for us. They were filled with energy and joy. One young man leading the singing had a fantastic voice.
For lunch, we ate at Wandi’s. Wandi’s is an old shebeen (speak-easy) that has been converted into a restaurant. This place gets visitors from all over the world. Business cards, foreign currency, and messages in permanent marker cover the walls and ceiling. Several are from colleges back home. Groups of students from my school have visited Soweto, and I wonder if they left behind graffiti on the walls. I search for any message from them, but there is too much to decipher. I text a student back home who could find out for me if the student group had eaten here. She later got back to me that they hadn’t. They had eaten at McDonald’s. Hahahaha.
Kwa Thema Methodist Church concert: Coal! We were driven to the church which appears to be southeast of Johannesburg. We are in another shantytown area. They encircle the church we are visiting. The air is thick with the smoke of coal fires used to keep the shanties warm. The sulfur smell again brings back fond memories of childhood for me. However, the smoke was never this thick. It is all trapped beneath the nocturnal boundary layer and has spread out far and wide. We can’t get away from it. Many in the choir are having problems with their eyes and breathing.
We performed with the Concert Choir of South Africa, a group of young singers pulled from the surrounding townships. At their introduction, their director said something along the lines of: “Africans are always singing. They sing when they are happy and they sing when they are hurting. Music is in direct contact with the human heart.” How true.
Anyway, this group has only been together for six months yet they put on a clinic. They gave a terrific performance and really showed us up! I loved the enthusiasm and participation of the congregation. The crowd was “into it”.
Many, many people shook our hands. They had rough working hands. I wonder if they noticed my soft work-shy hands.
July 1, 2007
Service at St. Mary’s Anglican Church in Johannesburg: Can you say incense? Wow! We had a fun time after this service. The church choir sang to us while we had snacks and tea. After awhile, some of us did our best to join in. It was a fantastic time. Afterwards, we hit the road for Sun City.
I feel the need to expand on the childhood memories comment. My childhood was spent growing up in Northern Indiana farmland. However, my family had “migrated” there from West Virginia. We visited “the hills” every chance we got. My grandparents’ house was heated with a coal furnace, so that sweet sulfur smell has good memories for me of playing on the river and eating grandma’s amazing cooking. Some of my relatives still lived in coal camp-like conditions. In fact, my great uncle’s place would have fit into Soweto pretty well although I have to question if his level of living was more by choice. But that was a unique place and fragment of time that doesn’t exist anymore. The old house is still there but the old folks are gone. The coal furnace was removed years ago. There are no more grandma’s raspberry cobblers or Norwegian shortbreads. I grew up at the cusp of much change. My mother could give me a first-hand account of life in a coal camp. I could listen to her stories and see the remnants of the camps. By now neglect and nature have taken them over and rightly so.
July 2, 2007
Safari. We went out twice to look for animals in the local game reserve; once in the early morning and once in the late afternoon. It was bitter cold in the morning, but a rewarding experience. We were all bundled up with blankets across our legs. I scared Winnie by looking under the blanket and saying “mamba!” She has an interesting rising scream. ☺
Our driver’s name was Themba. He was funny and intelligent. I loved his company. A few Themba moments:
As soon as we enter the game reserve, he pulls off to the side of the road and says, “Oops! Tea Time!”
Waterbucks have this distinct white ring around their buttocks. Themba said that they got that from sitting on newly painted toilet seats.
Themba on baboons: “I hate baboons. They get in your house and your phone bill goes up. They erase all the important messages on your cell phone. When they get to the fridge, they drink all the red wine.”
Pointed wildly at nothing to trick some other drivers to stop and look.
He was asked how fast rhinos can run (as we were watching a pair close to the road). He says “let’s find out” and gets out of the truck! The animals don’t like this and bolt. They are very fast.
He doesn’t care for snakes. He said you have to be very careful in the summer when you are outside, especially at night. He kills every black mamba that he sees. You can’t run over them with your vehicle. He says they are very fast and will jump up on the hood of the car. Then you are stuck in your vehicle. I asked why people don’t have dogs as pets, and he implied that the snakes make it difficult to keep one.
After the safari, we had a traditional BBQ, or Boma Braai, at a place called Bakgatla. It gave me my first taste of impala. I didn’t much care for it. Very fatty. Sitting around the campfire was fun, and the stars were spectacular. I could see the Milky Way, a first in years.
I thought about the past two days while trying to doze off. I find it easy to make friends with black people here. Sadly, I must admit that I don’t have any black friends back home. Likewise, I see few local whites mixing easily with local blacks. In each of our own cultures we have internal barricades every bit as real as the steel, brick, and razor wire fences we see everywhere around us here. Both sides have built these fences. I have to work on that for myself.
July 3, 2007
We are leaving Sun City for the Johannesburg airport. We are catching a plane for Port Elizabeth on the southern coast.
July 4, 2007
Grahamstown National Arts Festival. OK, I have officially seen the worst job, ever. This is a beautiful town about 1.5 hours drive into the interior from Port Elizabeth. The Arts Festival is a chaotic boil of street vendors, experimental theater, food tents, and porta-potties. It was this latter item that is the object of my rambling. There was a woman whose job it was to wipe urine off the toilet seats between uses….. and she was using the same rag over and over. I decided I should limit my fluid intake for the day.
The drug culture is prevalent. Hooka pipes were being sold by several vendors, and it was obvious who to approach to “score” something. Several youth appeared a bit, uh, altered.
Our concert at the United Methodist Commemoration Church went pretty well. We were exhausted from being on our feet for six hours in the sun. The first half was a bit iffy, but we pulled it together for the second part of the program. Apparently, someone from the US embassy was present in the audience.
One more toilet story: I used the rest room at the church only to find that the toilet wouldn’t flush. “No problem,” I thought. “It probably had no water in the tank. Perhaps it leaks and the valve was shut off.”
The valve was easily accessible, so I tried it. Nope. The water was on. The tank was simply empty. I bent the arm on the float so it could move freely. Ta da! Fixed in five seconds. How long had it gone without such simple maintenance?
We had dinner in the student union building of Rhodes University there in Grahamstown. The students had decorated the tables with red, white, and blue candles. Nice touch. I went up to the bartender and said I had a question. I told her that I’m a college professor back home where the drinking age is 21. Since the drinking age in South Africa is 18 I had one question…. are their parties legendary? With emphasis she said, “definitely!”
July 5, 2007
Knysna. This is a wealthy coastal village. We stopped at the yacht club where Jerry bought a birgy for the Rock Hall yacht club back in Maryland. Carolyn and I went in to town to find more local shops. Carolyn bought the town. Nah, just kidding. She had her best shopping day in Grahamstown. It will be interesting to see how we get all of this stuff home.
You can still find shantytowns here. There are still fences, but they are more mild. Fewer of them are topped with razor wire and electrical wires. Mostly just businesses with open storage yards have severe fencing. This is no different than what you would see back home.
July 6, 2007
We visited Featherbed Nature Sanctuary. It is situated on a large sand dune/rock outcropping forming one side of the bay in which Knysna resides. The hike was exhilarating after days of sitting in planes and buses. I’ve hardly had any exercise this trip. I feel mushy. Anyway, there were large, wave-carved rock outcroppings that we climbed around. Mike scared me to death on some of the edges. One’s nerve quickly fades when one’s kid is involved.
Carolyn and I walked the town quite a bit to check out the various shops. I found a simply decorated, yet stunning, ostrich egg that I had to have. She found wall hangings that she had to have. We are running through the Rand, but hey, we’re on vacation, right?
At the concert at the Dutch Reformed Church, I sat next to a woman who had happened to visit all the gardens were we live; Longwood, Wintertur, and Chanticleer. Another woman in the audience had gone to Eastman where Brillhart went to school. It’s a small, small world.
July 7, 2007
We are on our way to Cape Town. We made a stop in a town called Hermanus. We took a road off of the N2 at Caledon to get there. This back road leads through what they call the Valley of Heaven and Earth. Can see why. At Hermanus, we arrived just as two pods of humpback whales were crossing the harbor cove. There were also these funny little groundhog-looking creatures on the cliffs. I think they are rock hyraxes, but I have to check that. Locally, they are called “dassies”. They are very cute and don’t seem to be particularly scared of people.
My GPS seems to be on the blink. One of the control switches is not working. Must have dropped it one too many times. ☹
You can tell that there is a lot of money on this end of the country. Most housing is nice. There are fewer blacks, it seems; sort of an economic segregation. Just like home….
The roads down here are perfect for motorcycles. They are nice twisty roads with plenty of climbs. Off the beaten track, such as between Caledon and Hermanus, there are wicked switchbacks. The motorcycle of choice here is the BMW GS series; also a few BMW Dakars and the occasional rice burner.
We’ve rolled into Cape Town. The poverty level here is as bad as the Joburg area. We passed a shantytown that was worse looking than those in Soweto and much more massive. It stretched for several miles a side. Unlike Soweto, the shanties here are built on a sand bar with very poor irrigation. When it rains, which is often, the ground becomes a mire of sand, mud, and sewage. Soweto is on hard clay above a wetland. The run-off at least has somewhere to go.
No one knows what to do to solve such problems. The issues are not simply economic. They are cultural, too, and that is the most difficult aspect to overcome. You cannot simply build new structures and give them away. Nor could you uproot the people who live here, even if you did promise new homes. Community is too important. Local social ties are too strong.
Unlike the other areas we’ve visited, we are told that Cape Town also has a gang problem. There are two primary gangs who operate as drug mules and marketers. A Muslim gang practices vigilantism against the drug gangs. To top it off, there is an ongoing taxi war! I’m not sure how that works, but we decided we that will walk wherever we wish to go. Note: a cabbie was shot and killed the 2nd night here.
We took the cable car to the summit of Tabletop Mountain. It certainly doesn’t appear flat once you are at the top. The view is pretty good. It was cold with clouds barely passing over our heads. To say it was windy goes without saying. Our guide tells us that strong winds are a way of life in Cape Town.
July 8, 2007
Today we participated in the service at JL Zwane Presbyterian Church. The church is where it should be: in the heart of Gugulethu where it is needed most. Gugulethu is a poor area; part low-income housing, part shantytown. Our church has been involved with JL Zwane for a long time. In fact, the pastor here served part of his residency at Bryn Mawr Presbyterian. He spent a lot of time, too much time perhaps, praising the support of BMPC. Yes, it is important, but it is the hands of the local people of the church making the most of that support which is more important. Those hands are caring for the AIDS sufferer, taking in the orphan, and teaching the next generation. They deserve our praise.
After the service I went with a small group to see where the orphans were being cared for. A grandmother here or an aid worker there had taken them in. Two of the children are on the verge of their teenage years. They are not comfortable with us meeting them. I suppose they don’t like being made a spectacle. However, we can’t determine what they need most if we don’t see it. So, I apologize to these young people for the intrusion.
Primary needs are always a problem, of course. Food, clean water, and a roof over your head are basic. The church helps with the first. If the local government is worth its salt, it will ensure the second. The housing issue, as I said earlier, is one for which no one has an answer. In the second house we saw, thirteen people live in a space no bigger than our hotel room! What was it Jesus said about camels and needles?
Here is what we can and have to provide: Hope. Our best effort would be to watch and support and make sure that hope survives in this environment. We need to see that the young people can get a reasonable education, that their health is guarded, and that their spirits are nurtured. Hope is what South Africa is all about. And I do see it all around on our travels. I was talking with Jim Mackie on our walk back from dinner last night, and he commented on how far and how fast South Africa has progressed since 1994 compared to how slowly we’ve progressed since 1865 or even 1964.
Getting back to what else we witnessed, at our last stop we ran into Jeff Brillhart’s group. It would turn out that the last of the orphan’s homes on our little tour would include a home that might soon produce even more orphans. The young mother of the house was very ill in bed; her body ravaged by HIV. Our group walked in as Kevin Delaney was singing “Amazing Grace” to her. We joined in to an impromptu chorus. At first I didn’t know to whom we were singing. I was too far back in the group to see in the tiny bedroom, but I knew the reason we were singing couldn’t have been good.
When we got back from the mini tour, we had lunch graciously provided by the church and then participated in a joint concert with Siyaya, a musical group supported by JL Zwane. This group had visited BMPC two years ago to raise AIDS awareness and one of their members had stayed with us. Unfortunately, it appears he is no longer with the group.
Their singing was powerful back when they visited us at BMPC. They’ve grown in size and are all the more powerful. Wow! What am I going to do with all this wonderful music I’ve recorded? I could spend months working on it.
Our choir sang next. The crowd was amused at our women’s attempt at ululating. It is pretty comical. ☺ At the end, members of Siyaya joined us to sing “Soweto, June, 1976”, a powerful piece commissioned by Claire Mackie. You know, I wasn’t all that keen about making this trip, initially. I can be a real homebody. Carolyn twisted my arm hard to get me to go. Then, I wasn’t going to sing. I only wanted to record the various music I knew we were going to hear. Then, Jeff twisted my arm to sing with the group. I’m glad on all counts that I did it all. The young woman from Siyaya standing next to me during “Soweto” said that singing that was the most exciting moment of her life.
July 9, 2007
We are taking a Sabbath. The group went to tour the Cape and visit Seal Island. Carolyn has a cold and a touch of a fever, so my little tribe is resting today. We might take a walk around town later.
July 10, 2007
Robben Island. This place has alternatively been used as a supply depot, a prison, a leper colony, a military base, and then again as a prison. It carries painful memories. If there were such things as ghosts, the ones here would be the most tortured. However, from such a wracked dot of land came one of the most powerful, beautiful ideas. Frankly, I was looking around for a burning bush to explain it.
The political prisoners of apartheid had a different name for the island. They called it the “university”. I take this term to have two meanings. Yes, they educated themselves in the pursuit of degrees by correspondence. Mandela was adamant that “to be leaders you have to be educated”. However, in this place they also formed the ideals of reconciliation. The wardens thought that they were giving the prisoners busy work in the old quarry. Rather, that quarry was a hot forge where the hammer and anvil of an idea created a new spirit among men. Israel might be the “promised land” but the Spirit of God has been living here, lately. How else could one country produce leaders such as Gandhi and Mandela and many countless foot soldiers?
Our guide in the prison was a former political prisoner of Robben Island. He taught us much about the way of life in the prison, but his most puissant lessons were those of self-education, perseverance, and reconciliation. The quiet, yet strong, man who stood before us was a conqueror. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him and thank him. I’d like to share what I feel but words don’t come quickly to me. He might be tired of hearing it, too.
For our final concert, we sang in a joint-concert with several local township choirs. Again, we were in an area of shantytowns and extreme poverty. However, I finally noticed something that had escaped me this entire trip. There are no homeless here. Again, as far I can see, there are no homeless people in South Africa. There is poverty. There is need. But, no one is left on their own. There is a lesson for us.
At the farewell dinner, Jeff B. made a going-away speech that resonated with what we have experienced. He said that missionaries don’t change the people they visit. Rather, it is the missionary who is transformed. We leave South Africa with renewed spirits, with hope, and purpose. Thank you, South Africa.
We are now preparing for the journey home. I’m ready. I’m down to my last clean clothes. Our neighbors are probably eager for us to get home and cut the grass…. The challenge I face now is maintaining this new sense of purpose. It will be easy to fall into the old habits and complacency. I can so readily crawl back into my little shell. So my departing prayer is to remain renewed.
We speak of people as being catalysts for change. However, that cannot be. Catalysts are never changed by the reactions they hurry along. Events might be catalysts, but we have been changed. We are all part of a larger family. At JL Zwane, Spwito made us flesh of his congregation’s flesh and blood of his congregation’s blood. That cannot be undone.
Waypoints:
Airport Grand Hotel 26 10.693’S 028 14.641’E
St. Mary’s Anglican Church 26 11.990’S 028 02.655’E
Apartheid Museum 26 14.233’S 028 00.558’E
Pam’s Creche 26 16.546’S 027 53.162’E
Wandi’s Shebeen 26 14.259’S 027 53.365’E
Kwa Thema Methodist Church 26 17.846’S 028 23.430’E
Stopover 25 43.470’S 027 49.585’E
Pilanesberg Game Reserve 25 18.811’S 027 03.714’E
BBQ Bakgatla 25 11.389’S 027 08.946’E
Port Elizabeth City Lodge 33 58.813’S 025 39.250’E
Grahamstown United Methodist Commemoration Church 33 18.544’S 026 31.712’E
Knynsa 34 02.430’S 023 02.678’E
Hermanus 34 25.333’S 019 14.654’E
Cape Town 33 54.850’S 018 25.363’E
June 28, 2007
The flight from JFK to Johannesburg, with a stop in Dakar, Senegal, was long (17 hours), but I’ve never been on a more accommodating airline. Thank you, South Africa Air. Our hotel in the Johannesburg area is called the Airport Grand, but it isn’t very near the airport. The only thing connecting it with the airport is that it is in the planes’ take-off pattern. There are several shops and a mall near us; also, several car and motorcycle dealerships. This is apparently an affluent area. I’m trying to check out the night sky, but there is too much light pollution. I can make out part of the Southern Cross.
June 29, 2007
We were bussed into the heart of Johannesburg this morning. Now we can see the countryside clearly. When we first landed, it was near dark. This being winter, dark is around 5:30 pm. The region is a mile above sea level. Several stony ridges cut the terrain. The soil is red, rocky, and looks very hard. It makes me wonder what the Beor farmers were looking for when they started their great trek. Seems like they picked a lousy direction to go find land to farm. But come they did and the rest is history.
Plant life appears scarce by Southeastern PA standards, but who can say since this is wintertime. The only plants I can recognize are sycamore trees. They are abundant but, of course, lacking leaves just now. Most of the other vegetation seems more suited for a dry climate; cacti, some palms, a tree that sort of looks like eucalyptus. Surface streams are rare. I count only two the whole day.
As we drive in toward town, there are shanties here and there. They look foreign juxtaposed as they are against the businesses, homes, and modern highways. People are collecting scraps of wood for heat. One man was sitting next to a burning stump for warmth. In many places there have been grass fires. At first I thought they might be planned to clear vegetation around the highway interchanges, but now I bet they are an accidental result of people trying to warm themselves.
Our trip takes us through neighbors of all kinds; Black, Jewish, Chinese, and White, I suppose. Much of the construction is reminiscent of Tucson with the close houses and tile roofs. In these neighborhoods the homes can only be compared to either fortresses or prisons. I’m not sure which one best represents them. Every home is surrounded by spiked fences or walls with razor wire. Some have electrified fences. No window goes unbarred. I’m not sure what to think of it. We are told it is because level of crime is so high that the only way to manage your homeowner’s insurance is to have this level of security.
Even businesses and high rises have fences around them. Back where we are staying, the hotel is right next to a series of shops, but you cannot walk from one shop to the next without going to the main entrance of the hotel and walk all the way around the fence. You wouldn’t dare climb over the fences here in South Africa. They are topped with spikes and razors. I started wondering about when the day would come that the people here could finally tear down the fences, literally. However, upon reflection I doubt they would. I am starting to believe that this security is part of the culture, now. The original settlers fenced off the land for their farms, much to the chagrin of the pastoralist natives. Maybe some of the fencing is there because culture dictates that everything should be fenced.
In Johannesburg, we ride around an enormous statue representing the hard labor and contributions of South Africa’s miners. At a stop in the business district we see more mementos of mining’s importance here. An old trip hammer is set in the square and down the street is a teeple. These things are familiar to me from my grandfather’s coal mining days and stories. Our guide identifies the mystery trees around here as eucalyptus. They were imported from Australia and grown for their value as support timber in the mines. The wood is loaded with oil and does not easily rot in the high temperatures and humidity deep in the earth’s bowels. While I’m getting ahead of myself, on the way out of town we see the final, and most enormous, monument to mining; the mine tailings. They are man-made mountains stretching as far as I can see! The world must be hollow beneath our feet.
Johannesburg = chaos. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’ve just never seen so many people rambling around. I’m surprised not to see bicycles here. Also, very very few motorcycles. It’s all cars and pedestrians. From pictures of chaotic cities that Carolyn has visited, it is all bikes, motorbikes, and people. Away from the city I see many people on motorcycles.
At St. Mary’s Anglican Church, we meet Sidumo Jacobs who puts us through our paces teaching us hymns for Sunday’s worship. We sort of suck at pronunciation, but the reverb is so awesome in this place that, eh, it pretty much all blends together. Regardless, we will give it our best.
All the cars here, like in Europe, are small. I’m not sure if they are diesel or not. Judging from the selections on the pumps at the gas stations I’ve seen I would guess it is about 50/50. Side note: only one octane level is available: 93. What is interesting is that a large percentage of cars have trailer hitches. I haven’t seen any cars pulling a trailer, but it must be common. I wish America would get off of its huge car kick. You rarely see anything that might be called an SUV, and if you do it is full of people.
June 30, 2007
Apartheid Museum: Not much to say, at this point. Apartheid was wrong. It was cruel. We had similar sins in our own country. Here, however, separation was a matter of State policy and it led them closer to a state of civil war. What amazes me most through it all was the strength of the leaders who guided the people to freedom. The Gandhi’s, King’s, and Mandela’s of the world are so rare and precious. They are a breed near godliness. Anyone can be a “strong man” leader. Fear, intimidation, deceit, and cronyism don’t take any special skills to master (you reading this, George, Dick?). Anyone who only cares for their self can bully people this way.
Soweto: Soweto is huge. It isn’t a neighborhood or a town. In fact, Soweto is an acronym for “southwest township”. Funny moment… our guide told us not to feel pity for the inhabitants of Soweto. They have poverty, but they have each other and a strong sense of community. We, on the other hand, have George Bush so he felt sorry for us!
Still, Soweto does have basic problems. Well, parts of it. Some of Soweto looked like any other part of Johannesburg’s suburbs. In places, however, you’ll find blocks of extreme poverty. Quite literally, the people live in shanties built from whatever basic materials happen to be at hand. Running down the dirt streets is an open sewage line. It forms a little creek between the shanties; a constant stream of sewer water flowing through it. Children play in the dirt next to it. I can’t help but wonder how disease is kept to a minimum, here. True, HIV/AIDS is the prevalent health problem, but you really have to wonder how water-borne diseases like cholera are kept at bay.
Pam’s crèche is a school for the children of shantytown we visited. The children, ages preschool to high school, manage in a three-room classroom environment. They are sweet kids. The work Pam’s people do with them is important and clearly valuable. The different age groups sang and danced for us. They were filled with energy and joy. One young man leading the singing had a fantastic voice.
For lunch, we ate at Wandi’s. Wandi’s is an old shebeen (speak-easy) that has been converted into a restaurant. This place gets visitors from all over the world. Business cards, foreign currency, and messages in permanent marker cover the walls and ceiling. Several are from colleges back home. Groups of students from my school have visited Soweto, and I wonder if they left behind graffiti on the walls. I search for any message from them, but there is too much to decipher. I text a student back home who could find out for me if the student group had eaten here. She later got back to me that they hadn’t. They had eaten at McDonald’s. Hahahaha.
Kwa Thema Methodist Church concert: Coal! We were driven to the church which appears to be southeast of Johannesburg. We are in another shantytown area. They encircle the church we are visiting. The air is thick with the smoke of coal fires used to keep the shanties warm. The sulfur smell again brings back fond memories of childhood for me. However, the smoke was never this thick. It is all trapped beneath the nocturnal boundary layer and has spread out far and wide. We can’t get away from it. Many in the choir are having problems with their eyes and breathing.
We performed with the Concert Choir of South Africa, a group of young singers pulled from the surrounding townships. At their introduction, their director said something along the lines of: “Africans are always singing. They sing when they are happy and they sing when they are hurting. Music is in direct contact with the human heart.” How true.
Anyway, this group has only been together for six months yet they put on a clinic. They gave a terrific performance and really showed us up! I loved the enthusiasm and participation of the congregation. The crowd was “into it”.
Many, many people shook our hands. They had rough working hands. I wonder if they noticed my soft work-shy hands.
July 1, 2007
Service at St. Mary’s Anglican Church in Johannesburg: Can you say incense? Wow! We had a fun time after this service. The church choir sang to us while we had snacks and tea. After awhile, some of us did our best to join in. It was a fantastic time. Afterwards, we hit the road for Sun City.
I feel the need to expand on the childhood memories comment. My childhood was spent growing up in Northern Indiana farmland. However, my family had “migrated” there from West Virginia. We visited “the hills” every chance we got. My grandparents’ house was heated with a coal furnace, so that sweet sulfur smell has good memories for me of playing on the river and eating grandma’s amazing cooking. Some of my relatives still lived in coal camp-like conditions. In fact, my great uncle’s place would have fit into Soweto pretty well although I have to question if his level of living was more by choice. But that was a unique place and fragment of time that doesn’t exist anymore. The old house is still there but the old folks are gone. The coal furnace was removed years ago. There are no more grandma’s raspberry cobblers or Norwegian shortbreads. I grew up at the cusp of much change. My mother could give me a first-hand account of life in a coal camp. I could listen to her stories and see the remnants of the camps. By now neglect and nature have taken them over and rightly so.
July 2, 2007
Safari. We went out twice to look for animals in the local game reserve; once in the early morning and once in the late afternoon. It was bitter cold in the morning, but a rewarding experience. We were all bundled up with blankets across our legs. I scared Winnie by looking under the blanket and saying “mamba!” She has an interesting rising scream. ☺
Our driver’s name was Themba. He was funny and intelligent. I loved his company. A few Themba moments:
As soon as we enter the game reserve, he pulls off to the side of the road and says, “Oops! Tea Time!”
Waterbucks have this distinct white ring around their buttocks. Themba said that they got that from sitting on newly painted toilet seats.
Themba on baboons: “I hate baboons. They get in your house and your phone bill goes up. They erase all the important messages on your cell phone. When they get to the fridge, they drink all the red wine.”
Pointed wildly at nothing to trick some other drivers to stop and look.
He was asked how fast rhinos can run (as we were watching a pair close to the road). He says “let’s find out” and gets out of the truck! The animals don’t like this and bolt. They are very fast.
He doesn’t care for snakes. He said you have to be very careful in the summer when you are outside, especially at night. He kills every black mamba that he sees. You can’t run over them with your vehicle. He says they are very fast and will jump up on the hood of the car. Then you are stuck in your vehicle. I asked why people don’t have dogs as pets, and he implied that the snakes make it difficult to keep one.
After the safari, we had a traditional BBQ, or Boma Braai, at a place called Bakgatla. It gave me my first taste of impala. I didn’t much care for it. Very fatty. Sitting around the campfire was fun, and the stars were spectacular. I could see the Milky Way, a first in years.
I thought about the past two days while trying to doze off. I find it easy to make friends with black people here. Sadly, I must admit that I don’t have any black friends back home. Likewise, I see few local whites mixing easily with local blacks. In each of our own cultures we have internal barricades every bit as real as the steel, brick, and razor wire fences we see everywhere around us here. Both sides have built these fences. I have to work on that for myself.
July 3, 2007
We are leaving Sun City for the Johannesburg airport. We are catching a plane for Port Elizabeth on the southern coast.
July 4, 2007
Grahamstown National Arts Festival. OK, I have officially seen the worst job, ever. This is a beautiful town about 1.5 hours drive into the interior from Port Elizabeth. The Arts Festival is a chaotic boil of street vendors, experimental theater, food tents, and porta-potties. It was this latter item that is the object of my rambling. There was a woman whose job it was to wipe urine off the toilet seats between uses….. and she was using the same rag over and over. I decided I should limit my fluid intake for the day.
The drug culture is prevalent. Hooka pipes were being sold by several vendors, and it was obvious who to approach to “score” something. Several youth appeared a bit, uh, altered.
Our concert at the United Methodist Commemoration Church went pretty well. We were exhausted from being on our feet for six hours in the sun. The first half was a bit iffy, but we pulled it together for the second part of the program. Apparently, someone from the US embassy was present in the audience.
One more toilet story: I used the rest room at the church only to find that the toilet wouldn’t flush. “No problem,” I thought. “It probably had no water in the tank. Perhaps it leaks and the valve was shut off.”
The valve was easily accessible, so I tried it. Nope. The water was on. The tank was simply empty. I bent the arm on the float so it could move freely. Ta da! Fixed in five seconds. How long had it gone without such simple maintenance?
We had dinner in the student union building of Rhodes University there in Grahamstown. The students had decorated the tables with red, white, and blue candles. Nice touch. I went up to the bartender and said I had a question. I told her that I’m a college professor back home where the drinking age is 21. Since the drinking age in South Africa is 18 I had one question…. are their parties legendary? With emphasis she said, “definitely!”
July 5, 2007
Knysna. This is a wealthy coastal village. We stopped at the yacht club where Jerry bought a birgy for the Rock Hall yacht club back in Maryland. Carolyn and I went in to town to find more local shops. Carolyn bought the town. Nah, just kidding. She had her best shopping day in Grahamstown. It will be interesting to see how we get all of this stuff home.
You can still find shantytowns here. There are still fences, but they are more mild. Fewer of them are topped with razor wire and electrical wires. Mostly just businesses with open storage yards have severe fencing. This is no different than what you would see back home.
July 6, 2007
We visited Featherbed Nature Sanctuary. It is situated on a large sand dune/rock outcropping forming one side of the bay in which Knysna resides. The hike was exhilarating after days of sitting in planes and buses. I’ve hardly had any exercise this trip. I feel mushy. Anyway, there were large, wave-carved rock outcroppings that we climbed around. Mike scared me to death on some of the edges. One’s nerve quickly fades when one’s kid is involved.
Carolyn and I walked the town quite a bit to check out the various shops. I found a simply decorated, yet stunning, ostrich egg that I had to have. She found wall hangings that she had to have. We are running through the Rand, but hey, we’re on vacation, right?
At the concert at the Dutch Reformed Church, I sat next to a woman who had happened to visit all the gardens were we live; Longwood, Wintertur, and Chanticleer. Another woman in the audience had gone to Eastman where Brillhart went to school. It’s a small, small world.
July 7, 2007
We are on our way to Cape Town. We made a stop in a town called Hermanus. We took a road off of the N2 at Caledon to get there. This back road leads through what they call the Valley of Heaven and Earth. Can see why. At Hermanus, we arrived just as two pods of humpback whales were crossing the harbor cove. There were also these funny little groundhog-looking creatures on the cliffs. I think they are rock hyraxes, but I have to check that. Locally, they are called “dassies”. They are very cute and don’t seem to be particularly scared of people.
My GPS seems to be on the blink. One of the control switches is not working. Must have dropped it one too many times. ☹
You can tell that there is a lot of money on this end of the country. Most housing is nice. There are fewer blacks, it seems; sort of an economic segregation. Just like home….
The roads down here are perfect for motorcycles. They are nice twisty roads with plenty of climbs. Off the beaten track, such as between Caledon and Hermanus, there are wicked switchbacks. The motorcycle of choice here is the BMW GS series; also a few BMW Dakars and the occasional rice burner.
We’ve rolled into Cape Town. The poverty level here is as bad as the Joburg area. We passed a shantytown that was worse looking than those in Soweto and much more massive. It stretched for several miles a side. Unlike Soweto, the shanties here are built on a sand bar with very poor irrigation. When it rains, which is often, the ground becomes a mire of sand, mud, and sewage. Soweto is on hard clay above a wetland. The run-off at least has somewhere to go.
No one knows what to do to solve such problems. The issues are not simply economic. They are cultural, too, and that is the most difficult aspect to overcome. You cannot simply build new structures and give them away. Nor could you uproot the people who live here, even if you did promise new homes. Community is too important. Local social ties are too strong.
Unlike the other areas we’ve visited, we are told that Cape Town also has a gang problem. There are two primary gangs who operate as drug mules and marketers. A Muslim gang practices vigilantism against the drug gangs. To top it off, there is an ongoing taxi war! I’m not sure how that works, but we decided we that will walk wherever we wish to go. Note: a cabbie was shot and killed the 2nd night here.
We took the cable car to the summit of Tabletop Mountain. It certainly doesn’t appear flat once you are at the top. The view is pretty good. It was cold with clouds barely passing over our heads. To say it was windy goes without saying. Our guide tells us that strong winds are a way of life in Cape Town.
July 8, 2007
Today we participated in the service at JL Zwane Presbyterian Church. The church is where it should be: in the heart of Gugulethu where it is needed most. Gugulethu is a poor area; part low-income housing, part shantytown. Our church has been involved with JL Zwane for a long time. In fact, the pastor here served part of his residency at Bryn Mawr Presbyterian. He spent a lot of time, too much time perhaps, praising the support of BMPC. Yes, it is important, but it is the hands of the local people of the church making the most of that support which is more important. Those hands are caring for the AIDS sufferer, taking in the orphan, and teaching the next generation. They deserve our praise.
After the service I went with a small group to see where the orphans were being cared for. A grandmother here or an aid worker there had taken them in. Two of the children are on the verge of their teenage years. They are not comfortable with us meeting them. I suppose they don’t like being made a spectacle. However, we can’t determine what they need most if we don’t see it. So, I apologize to these young people for the intrusion.
Primary needs are always a problem, of course. Food, clean water, and a roof over your head are basic. The church helps with the first. If the local government is worth its salt, it will ensure the second. The housing issue, as I said earlier, is one for which no one has an answer. In the second house we saw, thirteen people live in a space no bigger than our hotel room! What was it Jesus said about camels and needles?
Here is what we can and have to provide: Hope. Our best effort would be to watch and support and make sure that hope survives in this environment. We need to see that the young people can get a reasonable education, that their health is guarded, and that their spirits are nurtured. Hope is what South Africa is all about. And I do see it all around on our travels. I was talking with Jim Mackie on our walk back from dinner last night, and he commented on how far and how fast South Africa has progressed since 1994 compared to how slowly we’ve progressed since 1865 or even 1964.
Getting back to what else we witnessed, at our last stop we ran into Jeff Brillhart’s group. It would turn out that the last of the orphan’s homes on our little tour would include a home that might soon produce even more orphans. The young mother of the house was very ill in bed; her body ravaged by HIV. Our group walked in as Kevin Delaney was singing “Amazing Grace” to her. We joined in to an impromptu chorus. At first I didn’t know to whom we were singing. I was too far back in the group to see in the tiny bedroom, but I knew the reason we were singing couldn’t have been good.
When we got back from the mini tour, we had lunch graciously provided by the church and then participated in a joint concert with Siyaya, a musical group supported by JL Zwane. This group had visited BMPC two years ago to raise AIDS awareness and one of their members had stayed with us. Unfortunately, it appears he is no longer with the group.
Their singing was powerful back when they visited us at BMPC. They’ve grown in size and are all the more powerful. Wow! What am I going to do with all this wonderful music I’ve recorded? I could spend months working on it.
Our choir sang next. The crowd was amused at our women’s attempt at ululating. It is pretty comical. ☺ At the end, members of Siyaya joined us to sing “Soweto, June, 1976”, a powerful piece commissioned by Claire Mackie. You know, I wasn’t all that keen about making this trip, initially. I can be a real homebody. Carolyn twisted my arm hard to get me to go. Then, I wasn’t going to sing. I only wanted to record the various music I knew we were going to hear. Then, Jeff twisted my arm to sing with the group. I’m glad on all counts that I did it all. The young woman from Siyaya standing next to me during “Soweto” said that singing that was the most exciting moment of her life.
July 9, 2007
We are taking a Sabbath. The group went to tour the Cape and visit Seal Island. Carolyn has a cold and a touch of a fever, so my little tribe is resting today. We might take a walk around town later.
July 10, 2007
Robben Island. This place has alternatively been used as a supply depot, a prison, a leper colony, a military base, and then again as a prison. It carries painful memories. If there were such things as ghosts, the ones here would be the most tortured. However, from such a wracked dot of land came one of the most powerful, beautiful ideas. Frankly, I was looking around for a burning bush to explain it.
The political prisoners of apartheid had a different name for the island. They called it the “university”. I take this term to have two meanings. Yes, they educated themselves in the pursuit of degrees by correspondence. Mandela was adamant that “to be leaders you have to be educated”. However, in this place they also formed the ideals of reconciliation. The wardens thought that they were giving the prisoners busy work in the old quarry. Rather, that quarry was a hot forge where the hammer and anvil of an idea created a new spirit among men. Israel might be the “promised land” but the Spirit of God has been living here, lately. How else could one country produce leaders such as Gandhi and Mandela and many countless foot soldiers?
Our guide in the prison was a former political prisoner of Robben Island. He taught us much about the way of life in the prison, but his most puissant lessons were those of self-education, perseverance, and reconciliation. The quiet, yet strong, man who stood before us was a conqueror. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him and thank him. I’d like to share what I feel but words don’t come quickly to me. He might be tired of hearing it, too.
For our final concert, we sang in a joint-concert with several local township choirs. Again, we were in an area of shantytowns and extreme poverty. However, I finally noticed something that had escaped me this entire trip. There are no homeless here. Again, as far I can see, there are no homeless people in South Africa. There is poverty. There is need. But, no one is left on their own. There is a lesson for us.
At the farewell dinner, Jeff B. made a going-away speech that resonated with what we have experienced. He said that missionaries don’t change the people they visit. Rather, it is the missionary who is transformed. We leave South Africa with renewed spirits, with hope, and purpose. Thank you, South Africa.
We are now preparing for the journey home. I’m ready. I’m down to my last clean clothes. Our neighbors are probably eager for us to get home and cut the grass…. The challenge I face now is maintaining this new sense of purpose. It will be easy to fall into the old habits and complacency. I can so readily crawl back into my little shell. So my departing prayer is to remain renewed.
We speak of people as being catalysts for change. However, that cannot be. Catalysts are never changed by the reactions they hurry along. Events might be catalysts, but we have been changed. We are all part of a larger family. At JL Zwane, Spwito made us flesh of his congregation’s flesh and blood of his congregation’s blood. That cannot be undone.
Waypoints:
Airport Grand Hotel 26 10.693’S 028 14.641’E
St. Mary’s Anglican Church 26 11.990’S 028 02.655’E
Apartheid Museum 26 14.233’S 028 00.558’E
Pam’s Creche 26 16.546’S 027 53.162’E
Wandi’s Shebeen 26 14.259’S 027 53.365’E
Kwa Thema Methodist Church 26 17.846’S 028 23.430’E
Stopover 25 43.470’S 027 49.585’E
Pilanesberg Game Reserve 25 18.811’S 027 03.714’E
BBQ Bakgatla 25 11.389’S 027 08.946’E
Port Elizabeth City Lodge 33 58.813’S 025 39.250’E
Grahamstown United Methodist Commemoration Church 33 18.544’S 026 31.712’E
Knynsa 34 02.430’S 023 02.678’E
Hermanus 34 25.333’S 019 14.654’E
Cape Town 33 54.850’S 018 25.363’E
We must sing!
We're home now, but so many memories linger...
One reflection: I can't stop thinking about the singing we heard. On our last night, when we visited the Apostolic church in Khayelitsha, I had the opportunity to sit near Asanda during part of the performance. (As it turns out, members of the youth choir were asked to sit among members of our choir to help us understand the music and language.) I couldn't help, but notice the great number of singers from her church and I asked, "Does everybody sing?" Asanda looked surprised at my question, "yes" she said "it's part of how we bring people to church." She continued, "it's not 'do you want to sing?'. It's like a force in us; it's just something we must do. We must sing!"
I have heard similar statements during this entire journey, that a boy isn't considered a man, unless he sings; that Africans always sing... they sing when they are hurting, they sing when they feel joy. Early in the trip, Sidumo Jacobs urged us to sing from our hearts, "to own the music, embrace it and keep it for the rest of our lives." The Africans we met sing like this, without any self consciousness and often without any preparation. The music just seems to well up and spill out into the world. There are no barriers, not between singers, not between the singers and God. In fact, I am sure that there have been times when all they had was music and God. That's how they sing... as if all they have is music and God.
One reflection: I can't stop thinking about the singing we heard. On our last night, when we visited the Apostolic church in Khayelitsha, I had the opportunity to sit near Asanda during part of the performance. (As it turns out, members of the youth choir were asked to sit among members of our choir to help us understand the music and language.) I couldn't help, but notice the great number of singers from her church and I asked, "Does everybody sing?" Asanda looked surprised at my question, "yes" she said "it's part of how we bring people to church." She continued, "it's not 'do you want to sing?'. It's like a force in us; it's just something we must do. We must sing!"
I have heard similar statements during this entire journey, that a boy isn't considered a man, unless he sings; that Africans always sing... they sing when they are hurting, they sing when they feel joy. Early in the trip, Sidumo Jacobs urged us to sing from our hearts, "to own the music, embrace it and keep it for the rest of our lives." The Africans we met sing like this, without any self consciousness and often without any preparation. The music just seems to well up and spill out into the world. There are no barriers, not between singers, not between the singers and God. In fact, I am sure that there have been times when all they had was music and God. That's how they sing... as if all they have is music and God.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
We're back
Sadly, our tour to S. Africa is over. We arrived safe and sound this morning. We'll no doubt be adding to this blog in the days and weeks ahead! I encourage everyone to add their comments. In the meantime, check out this link: http://www.bmpc.org/Khayelitsha%20Youth%20Choir.mp3 This is a three minute Mp3 of one the choirs we performed with on Tuesday evening. This piece is sung to ward off evil spirits. Most impressive!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Our Last Day
Well, it is with a heavy heart that I write this last message from Cape Town.While we are profoundly sleep deprived, I believe I speak for everyone when I write that this trip has been an exhilerating, uplifting, and enormously moving experience. Everywhere we have gone, the response has been warm, inviting, loving.Last night was yet another remarkable experience.... this time at the large Apostolic Church in Khayelitsha. If you saw the movie "Tsotsi", you will recognize the name of this township. Like all other townships, this one is surrounded by dire shanty towns. I can't describe how strange it was to drive by these informal settlements at night... with NO lights on at all, except for the occasional fire outside. How can anyone live this way?
The church was full... this evening was advertised as a "sing-in".... five choirs plus US.... four of the five choirs were the church's groups. Now, here's the amazing thing: in addition to a large "Senior Choir", we heard the LARGE youth choir (age 16-26), the children's choir, and (elders, deacons and trustees who may be reading this: fasten your seatblets).... the LEADER'S Choir... Yes, in order to serve on a church board, you must be in the LEADER'S Choir, which rehearses TWICE a week. All these incredible groups plus Siyaya (from Gugeletu). The evening began with the male leaders of the church standing on the stage and singing a tribal "gathering" song... this went on for about 10 minutes, complete with elaborate choreography... and, as the song unfolded, dozens upon dozens of men joined them on stage. Thank heavens we recorded all this for later listening.There were many, many informal conversations between Senior Choir members and members of that congregation and the various choirs. You'll no doubt hear more from your friends on this trip... but, I'll relate one conversation I had with Xaloni (the "x" is a "click")... he said to me, "Jeffrey, you must understand how huge this is for us. NO white Africans would ever visit our townships. That you and your choir and friends have come into our township is an enormous gesture that we will never forget."The challenge facing us now is this: how do we bring this spirit, this enormous sense of grace, these gifts of forgiveness back home?? The late Reverend Richard Shaull often said that mission trips weren't about our going places and changing the lives of people we visited.... rather, when we travel to places like the townships of S. Africa, or Cuba, or Brazil, or Russia.... it is WE who are changed.Dick was a wise man.... how true that is. See all of you stateside.
The church was full... this evening was advertised as a "sing-in".... five choirs plus US.... four of the five choirs were the church's groups. Now, here's the amazing thing: in addition to a large "Senior Choir", we heard the LARGE youth choir (age 16-26), the children's choir, and (elders, deacons and trustees who may be reading this: fasten your seatblets).... the LEADER'S Choir... Yes, in order to serve on a church board, you must be in the LEADER'S Choir, which rehearses TWICE a week. All these incredible groups plus Siyaya (from Gugeletu). The evening began with the male leaders of the church standing on the stage and singing a tribal "gathering" song... this went on for about 10 minutes, complete with elaborate choreography... and, as the song unfolded, dozens upon dozens of men joined them on stage. Thank heavens we recorded all this for later listening.There were many, many informal conversations between Senior Choir members and members of that congregation and the various choirs. You'll no doubt hear more from your friends on this trip... but, I'll relate one conversation I had with Xaloni (the "x" is a "click")... he said to me, "Jeffrey, you must understand how huge this is for us. NO white Africans would ever visit our townships. That you and your choir and friends have come into our township is an enormous gesture that we will never forget."The challenge facing us now is this: how do we bring this spirit, this enormous sense of grace, these gifts of forgiveness back home?? The late Reverend Richard Shaull often said that mission trips weren't about our going places and changing the lives of people we visited.... rather, when we travel to places like the townships of S. Africa, or Cuba, or Brazil, or Russia.... it is WE who are changed.Dick was a wise man.... how true that is. See all of you stateside.
Robben Island
For me, visiting Robben Island is walking on sacred ground. This is the place that shaped the destiny of South Africa. This is the place where political prisoners found the fortutude and grace to plan a South AFrica that would represent all of its people. What continues to be completely stunning to me and so many of my friends here is the commitment to reconciliation. While on Robben Island, we listened to Tulani, a former political prisoner and our guide, speak of his years of imprisonment- the mental and physical torture that he and his family experienced- and the conscious decision he made to align himself with Mandela and others. He said, "We South Africans are a forgiving people." Even with memories of repression still very fresh, revenge and reparation aren't even a consideration, it is healing and a better future that is sought.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Worship at JL Zwane
Today was a memorable combination of intense and personal connections with people in great need, along with joyous song and gratitude.
Spiwo's JL Zwane Memorial Presbyterian Church is an island of hope and relative prosperity in the midst of Guguletu's crushing poverty. With some assistance from our own church, Spiwo has made impressive in roads in the this desparate community. He and his congregation have taken a stand for human sexuality education and HIV prevention. Everyday they minister to those who have been touched by the disease. The Pastor commented that he had baptised over 1000 children; today many are orphans. Members of our choir visited several homes where children headed households, where over 10 people lived in one small shack, where a young mother lay near death. In the midst of all of this, Spiwo and JL Zwane are a beacon of encouragement and strength. Spiwo spoke with us about his challenges; his personal resolve was palpable.
When we sang, once again boundaries seemed to melt away. Our music was embraced with cheers, applause and dance (WE can't dance to our music, but THEY dance to our music!)
Spiwo called the day to a close by urging everyone, every singer, every listener, into a large circle. We held hands- brown and white hands clasped - and sang the JL Zwane song, "Be Bright In The Corner, Where You Are."
Spiwo's JL Zwane Memorial Presbyterian Church is an island of hope and relative prosperity in the midst of Guguletu's crushing poverty. With some assistance from our own church, Spiwo has made impressive in roads in the this desparate community. He and his congregation have taken a stand for human sexuality education and HIV prevention. Everyday they minister to those who have been touched by the disease. The Pastor commented that he had baptised over 1000 children; today many are orphans. Members of our choir visited several homes where children headed households, where over 10 people lived in one small shack, where a young mother lay near death. In the midst of all of this, Spiwo and JL Zwane are a beacon of encouragement and strength. Spiwo spoke with us about his challenges; his personal resolve was palpable.
When we sang, once again boundaries seemed to melt away. Our music was embraced with cheers, applause and dance (WE can't dance to our music, but THEY dance to our music!)
Spiwo called the day to a close by urging everyone, every singer, every listener, into a large circle. We held hands- brown and white hands clasped - and sang the JL Zwane song, "Be Bright In The Corner, Where You Are."
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Gugeletu
Hi everyone,Well, it's late Sunday evening and we've had what was unquestionably the most moving day of our lives.... I'm wiped out... no more tears are possible.The day began at the J.L. Zwane Presbyterian Church. We sang in the morning worship service, which Spiwo (the Senior Pastor) said, would be a "short service"..... it was nearly 2 hours long! BUT, it flew by. Once again, I don't really think I can capture this experience in mere words. How can I describe the congregational singing? Led by the choir, usually a single voice, then radiating out to the full choir, then the full congregation.... hundreds, all ages, in full harmony.... many dancing in the aisles, many adding remarkably ornate improvisations in complex rhythms that classically trained musicians can only dream of making. I don't recall how many congregational songs there were... many, for sure... but, the emotional impact was immense.
It was a cold morning.... I remember thinking that my hands had never been that cold while conducting.... But the choir was wonderful. All sang from their heart. Could I ask for more? No, I don't think so. Spiwo's sermon was remarkable.... a kind of personal testimony, full of thanksgiving for the relationship J.L. Zwane has with Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church. Any BMPC member who thinks that giving to mission is a mistake must re-think that position! We, who have so much, must give more.Another highlight of the service was the weekly testimony of someone who is fighting HIV. I can't say more..... other than the loving support that poured from the congregation before and after she spoke... in the form of song, of course.
After the service, several of us went to visit a young woman who was dying of AIDS. She lives in a small house with her sister (who was caring for the AIDS victim's baby) and another relative and her baby. It was clear that this poor woman didn't have long to live... we stood around her bed and sang "Amazing Grace." Her response was to close her eyes and cry while we sang... There was nothing we could have said, honestly.... we could only convey with our singing voices our love.With that experience we dashed back to the church to prepare for a 2 o'clock concert. This was in collaboration with Siyaya... a professional choir whose mission is to promote awareness of AIDS prevention. I was thrilled that they were able to learn the piece we commissioned: "Soweto: June 1976".... I rehearsed them for about 30 minutes, then off we flew for the concert. Siyaya opened.... oh gosh, they were beyond words.... potent, powerful, brilliant, emotion-filled, communicative.... just ravishing... then our little band of Presbyterians on state.... and, gosh, they were glorious too! Hugely receptive audience (again!).... but, when Siyaya joined the Senior Choir in singing "Soweto".... well, the house came a'tumbling down! After that, we presented Bongani (their director) with gifts (CD's of hundreds of thousands of songs for reprint + a financial contribution).... THEN, Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" en masse.... and yes, the audience stood!Anyway, that was today... makes me darned happy to be a member of BMPC.... and that we as a church have a small part to play in transforming lives here in S. Africa.... By the way, Spiwo admonished us to stay involved in W. Philadelphia! YES!!!The best to you from S. Africa.
It was a cold morning.... I remember thinking that my hands had never been that cold while conducting.... But the choir was wonderful. All sang from their heart. Could I ask for more? No, I don't think so. Spiwo's sermon was remarkable.... a kind of personal testimony, full of thanksgiving for the relationship J.L. Zwane has with Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church. Any BMPC member who thinks that giving to mission is a mistake must re-think that position! We, who have so much, must give more.Another highlight of the service was the weekly testimony of someone who is fighting HIV. I can't say more..... other than the loving support that poured from the congregation before and after she spoke... in the form of song, of course.
After the service, several of us went to visit a young woman who was dying of AIDS. She lives in a small house with her sister (who was caring for the AIDS victim's baby) and another relative and her baby. It was clear that this poor woman didn't have long to live... we stood around her bed and sang "Amazing Grace." Her response was to close her eyes and cry while we sang... There was nothing we could have said, honestly.... we could only convey with our singing voices our love.With that experience we dashed back to the church to prepare for a 2 o'clock concert. This was in collaboration with Siyaya... a professional choir whose mission is to promote awareness of AIDS prevention. I was thrilled that they were able to learn the piece we commissioned: "Soweto: June 1976".... I rehearsed them for about 30 minutes, then off we flew for the concert. Siyaya opened.... oh gosh, they were beyond words.... potent, powerful, brilliant, emotion-filled, communicative.... just ravishing... then our little band of Presbyterians on state.... and, gosh, they were glorious too! Hugely receptive audience (again!).... but, when Siyaya joined the Senior Choir in singing "Soweto".... well, the house came a'tumbling down! After that, we presented Bongani (their director) with gifts (CD's of hundreds of thousands of songs for reprint + a financial contribution).... THEN, Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" en masse.... and yes, the audience stood!Anyway, that was today... makes me darned happy to be a member of BMPC.... and that we as a church have a small part to play in transforming lives here in S. Africa.... By the way, Spiwo admonished us to stay involved in W. Philadelphia! YES!!!The best to you from S. Africa.
Breathtaking!
Stunning! And breathtaking only begin to descibe the effect of the Featherbed Nature Reserve. The Featherbed Nature Reserve is directly across from Knysna where the estuary meets the Indian Ocean, on an enormous craggy bluff. Let me describe our visit... First take the ferry across the bay and climb aboard open air vehicles that slowly transport you up the sheer, narrow, hair pin road to the top of the bluff.Look out over the cliffs to sparkling, blue green water and marvel at the spectacular vista. Then hike back down. The path winds its way through dense forest and beautiful shrubs and flowers.It is sometimes slippery and rocky , but very manageable. Our group paused to scramble out on to rocky cliffs to get even better views. At one point, we spotted hump back whales, spouting not far from shore.
The Featherbed Nature Reserve is the remarkable gift of the Wm. Smith family, who chose not to develop this prime location into resort real estate, but preserve it for future generations. It is a very special biome for coastal South African plants and home to the world's smallest antelope and South Africa's national bird, the blue crane, both endangered. In such a unique and magnificent space, it is hard not to feel closer to God.
The Featherbed Nature Reserve is the remarkable gift of the Wm. Smith family, who chose not to develop this prime location into resort real estate, but preserve it for future generations. It is a very special biome for coastal South African plants and home to the world's smallest antelope and South Africa's national bird, the blue crane, both endangered. In such a unique and magnificent space, it is hard not to feel closer to God.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
We've arrived in Capetown
Hi Everyone,We've arrived safely in Capetown.... a spectacular day's drive on the garden route, capped off by a last minute cable car ride up to Table Mountain. So satisfying.Now, let's back up.... An incredible concert in Knysna! After the frigid (yet, verbally warm response) in Grahamstown, we expected the mostly white audience to be likewise cold. BUT, last night's audience was wildly, wildly warm.... we were forced to offer two encores (compelled by everyone in the audience stomping their feet!) Very nice. Also there was the director of the AIDS center for orphaned children. She could run any company in America I think! Very impressive, very big heart.... big vision for the children under her care.The contrasts in this country are so overwhelming that I still cannot really express my thoughts in writing. And, I daresay, everyone on this tour feels similarly... you see mile after mile of horrible shacks.... no water, no electricity.... then, you encounter totally first world areas that rival anything in the U.S. or Europe. Yes, we see these contrasts in Philadelphia.... yes, we've seen them in other tours (Brazil and Cuba, most especially)... but, this is totally mind boggling.... that the vast wealth of the country is controlled by under 10 per cent of the country... that unemployment among black Africans is around 50 per cent.... that the level of AIDS infection is so high.... well, this just overwhelmes the senses (and the heart). I hope to be able to articulate my thoughts better in the coming weeks and months.Anyway, we love being here... can't wait to return! (And, that's a pretty universal sentiment also).
Friday, July 6, 2007
Knysna Aids Council
The Knysna Aids Council, in a small house, only a few blocks from Main Street does so much more than testing and counseling. Under the astute and thorough administration of Millicent, it cares for children, provides training for young people, visits prisons and continues to network so that its reach can stretch further. The K.A.C. is not associated with a church, but its 12 staff members are Christian and feel called to their work. While visiting, we were chauffered to the tiny home of Nombulelo Fonti, who is conected with the K.A.C. Nombulelo, HIV positive herself for 14 years, provides childcare for little ones whose caretakers are too ill from the disease to provide consistent supervision. Nombulelo lives in one of the all too common township neighborhoods that is, though not as poor as Kliptown, certainly in great need. The children we met were delightful, naturally. They joined us in song and graciously accepted our small gifts. Once again, a lesson in humility was provided for all who visited.
Tim Starn, Carolyn Gerrish and their son Michael in the middle.... freezing, in search of wild animals!Thursday, July 5, 2007
We're in KNYSNA!
Hi everyone!! Well, sorry to be remiss in writing, but I've had zero internet access for 48 hours. We're now in Knysna, on the Indian Ocean (gosh, it's hard to fathom that, isn't it!!!) Just beautiful, beautiful weather and a gorgeous place. Plus the opening of the oyster festival.... I've already slurped my first 2 dozen!
ANYWAY, let's back up.... two days ago we left Sun City for the Joburg airport and a flight to Port Elizabeth. Not a long flight. Anyway, YESTERDAY, we drove from "PE" (as it's called) to beautiful Grahamstown for the Grahamstown Arts Festival, which is billed as the biggest arts festival in Africa, but seems MUCH bigger!! We had an exhausting day of walking the town, through hundreds of craft stalls and almost as many exhibits of African dancing, singing, etc. Our concert last night was a sell-out and was held in the very old local Methodist Church. In the audience were the governer of the Eastern Cape province, somebody from the American embassy, the conductor of the Joburg Philharmonic, and hundreds of others... mostly white audience. Which is interesting in that, like at Bryn Mawr, the audience was receptive, polite, but not exuberant.... far cry from Kwa Thema!! BUT, we were really, really well received and countless audience members came up to us to tell us how much they enjoyed our singing.
Afterwards was a 4th of July celebration, S. African style. Fried chicken, etc. But, it was REALLY late... we didn't finish dinner till after 11 p.m. or so, then had a long drive back to PE... a few cranky people (HAHA)! Was a short night for sleep, but heck, sleep's such a waste of time, isn't it!
This morning's drive was just glorious... over huge gorges, along the sea, through ancient forests, the occasional baboon along the road. It was one of those "pinch yourself" days.
Knysna is a beautiful town... more later.... because I must run!!!
Hope all of you back home are well. We do miss you (seriously)!
ANYWAY, let's back up.... two days ago we left Sun City for the Joburg airport and a flight to Port Elizabeth. Not a long flight. Anyway, YESTERDAY, we drove from "PE" (as it's called) to beautiful Grahamstown for the Grahamstown Arts Festival, which is billed as the biggest arts festival in Africa, but seems MUCH bigger!! We had an exhausting day of walking the town, through hundreds of craft stalls and almost as many exhibits of African dancing, singing, etc. Our concert last night was a sell-out and was held in the very old local Methodist Church. In the audience were the governer of the Eastern Cape province, somebody from the American embassy, the conductor of the Joburg Philharmonic, and hundreds of others... mostly white audience. Which is interesting in that, like at Bryn Mawr, the audience was receptive, polite, but not exuberant.... far cry from Kwa Thema!! BUT, we were really, really well received and countless audience members came up to us to tell us how much they enjoyed our singing.
Afterwards was a 4th of July celebration, S. African style. Fried chicken, etc. But, it was REALLY late... we didn't finish dinner till after 11 p.m. or so, then had a long drive back to PE... a few cranky people (HAHA)! Was a short night for sleep, but heck, sleep's such a waste of time, isn't it!
This morning's drive was just glorious... over huge gorges, along the sea, through ancient forests, the occasional baboon along the road. It was one of those "pinch yourself" days.
Knysna is a beautiful town... more later.... because I must run!!!
Hope all of you back home are well. We do miss you (seriously)!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Safari
"Polka dots!!" he shouted, excitedly pointing, "a cat.... with spots!!!" It was already dusk and we were winding our way back out of the game reserve when this last great sighting of the evening occurred. A leopard or possibly a cheetah, right next to us! The Pilanesburg Game Reserve has recreated the African savannah, relocating over 3000 animals that were once indiginous to this part of South Africa. Day trip safaris are offered; it's a wonderful way to take a peek at real live, wild animals in what may be the most natural habitat many of us have ever observed. Our groups rode in large open vehicles that permitted excellent views. In one day, we saw hippos sunning themselves, zebra and giraffe grazing, galloping gnus, rummaging warthogs, hyena, jackels, spring bok and beautiful birds. We watched lions playfully paw one another and, at one point a family of rhinocerous actually blocked the road, trotting unhurriedly in front of our vehicles. Our guide commented that they can be quite stubborn!
I marveled at how very disinterested the animals were. Surely they can hear and smell us coming, two miles away and yet they are completely undetered by our gawking presence.
I marveled at how very disinterested the animals were. Surely they can hear and smell us coming, two miles away and yet they are completely undetered by our gawking presence.
Worship at St. Mary's
Clouds of incense wafted through the old Anglican cathedral. It was a high Mass, lasting about 90 minutes( a bit of a stretch for us, Presbyterians) complete with the Zulu Mass parts that we had rehearsed with St. Mary's choir director, Sidumo Jacobs. Our choir joined his in singing the liturgy and hymns. The congregation responded warmly to our anthems and most remained after the service to hear two additional pieces. Again, Jenny brought down the house with "Great Day." After the service, the St. Mary's Choir treated us to refreshments and , best of all, spontaneous singing. Never have I heard a group sing with more connectedness, ease and passion. Their intonation was not perfect and, at times, the tone was raucous, but the devotion and pure joy was unmistakeable. The singing was always accompanied by dance- not elaborate and definately contagious. At one point, we ended up in a circle, lifting our voices, moving with the music. It ended (far too soon) with fervant hugs and words of gratitude. It was a blessing to experience!
Singing at Kwa Thema Methodist Church
Saturday night concert
The members will tell you that Kwa Thema Methodist Church is the place to be. From the beginning of the evening, when first notes were sung, the congregation practically vibrated with music and fellowship. The evening began with traditional music from our host choir, the South African Chamber Choir. The audience cheered and sang along, waved and yelled their approval. They were a noisy group when they heard something they especially liked, screaming and ululating (a piercing high pitch yodel), but also, at times quiet and reverant. When our group took the stage, the audience greeted us warmly with smiles and hearty applause. It wasn't until we sang gospel that they really warmed up. Great Day brought them to their feet dancing and cheering. The response to Jen's solo was astonishing... screaming and waving, must have been the high b-flat.
The members will tell you that Kwa Thema Methodist Church is the place to be. From the beginning of the evening, when first notes were sung, the congregation practically vibrated with music and fellowship. The evening began with traditional music from our host choir, the South African Chamber Choir. The audience cheered and sang along, waved and yelled their approval. They were a noisy group when they heard something they especially liked, screaming and ululating (a piercing high pitch yodel), but also, at times quiet and reverant. When our group took the stage, the audience greeted us warmly with smiles and hearty applause. It wasn't until we sang gospel that they really warmed up. Great Day brought them to their feet dancing and cheering. The response to Jen's solo was astonishing... screaming and waving, must have been the high b-flat.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Well, it's Monday afternoon in Pilanesburg game preserve, and, having seen everything from lions to antelopes to zebras and giraffes, I'm a bit overwhelmed!! BUT, the big story is what happened over the weekend in our Saturday concert and Sunday morning service. Reminiscent of the kind of rock-star reception that we had in Brazil, Saturday evening's concert in Kwa Thema Methodist Church was electrifying. Kwa Thema is a township just outside Joburg. To reach the church, one passes by shanty towns and the inivitable smoke-that's-so-thick-you-could-cut-it-with-a-knife. We were hosted by the church and the Chamber Choir of South Africa, a new choir, having been formed in November 2006. Now, bear in mind that our merry band had spent the day in Soweto, visiting the Apartheid Museum, Wandie's (just down the street from Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu's childhood homes), and Pam's creche (in the heart of a total poverty zone known as Kliptown)... so, emotions were running mighty high.
Our concert had been slated to start at 6 p.m. but, this being Africa, started about 30 minutes late. The Chamber Choir began.... incredible, incredible folk music with native dance... and an audience, whose members spontaneously ulalated, danced in the aisles, or sang along. The choir sang about 25 minutes.... during which time I could hear the minds of those in the Senior Choir going "how on earth can we follow anything as extraordinary as this!" Well, they did... we opened with a hushed Thompson "Alleluia" which was met with screams from the audience. Really, there's not much that I can write that will adequately capture this evening... The audience ulalating over Jennifer's high Bb, EVERYONE rushing to their feet and screaming when Kevin and the choir sang "Soweto: June 1976".... the "Amen's" shouted at the word's "Zion's Walls." Really, this is the power of music.... we musicians understand this, but aren't so good at expressing it in writing!! Happily, Tim Starn captured much of the evening in an Mp3 recording. I predict a S. Africa CD!
After a very late night (concert ended at 9:00-ish and was followed by an impromptu reception), we sleep deprived travelers arose Sunday morning for an early run to St. Mary's Cathedral where we sang a high mass in (yes, you read it here) ZULU. WOW, the choir was just awesome. They clicked merrily away in the Sanctus.... we may just replace BMPC's Sanctus with this version. The service was really grand.... tons of music, from hymns WE know to Anglican Chant to the ZULU mass settings, to the congregation singing lustily in its responses. As the 90 minute service unfolded, the cathedral grew fuller and fuller! One highlight among many, was Nathan playing the final hymn (he went to town as only Nathan can), then dashing into his version of a Bach Sinfonia for the postlude.... he was one happy fella. Then, the choir gave a short concert to the full cathedral, with all in the congregation joining in a version of The Battle Hymn of the Republic that surely was heard by those in Novgorad, Russia (do you veterans remember that impromptu version in 1995?)
It was a sleepy and very happy group that boarded our band of buses to head into the mountains and our new home of two days, Sun City and its fabulous game preserve, Pilanesburg.
Our concert had been slated to start at 6 p.m. but, this being Africa, started about 30 minutes late. The Chamber Choir began.... incredible, incredible folk music with native dance... and an audience, whose members spontaneously ulalated, danced in the aisles, or sang along. The choir sang about 25 minutes.... during which time I could hear the minds of those in the Senior Choir going "how on earth can we follow anything as extraordinary as this!" Well, they did... we opened with a hushed Thompson "Alleluia" which was met with screams from the audience. Really, there's not much that I can write that will adequately capture this evening... The audience ulalating over Jennifer's high Bb, EVERYONE rushing to their feet and screaming when Kevin and the choir sang "Soweto: June 1976".... the "Amen's" shouted at the word's "Zion's Walls." Really, this is the power of music.... we musicians understand this, but aren't so good at expressing it in writing!! Happily, Tim Starn captured much of the evening in an Mp3 recording. I predict a S. Africa CD!
After a very late night (concert ended at 9:00-ish and was followed by an impromptu reception), we sleep deprived travelers arose Sunday morning for an early run to St. Mary's Cathedral where we sang a high mass in (yes, you read it here) ZULU. WOW, the choir was just awesome. They clicked merrily away in the Sanctus.... we may just replace BMPC's Sanctus with this version. The service was really grand.... tons of music, from hymns WE know to Anglican Chant to the ZULU mass settings, to the congregation singing lustily in its responses. As the 90 minute service unfolded, the cathedral grew fuller and fuller! One highlight among many, was Nathan playing the final hymn (he went to town as only Nathan can), then dashing into his version of a Bach Sinfonia for the postlude.... he was one happy fella. Then, the choir gave a short concert to the full cathedral, with all in the congregation joining in a version of The Battle Hymn of the Republic that surely was heard by those in Novgorad, Russia (do you veterans remember that impromptu version in 1995?)
It was a sleepy and very happy group that boarded our band of buses to head into the mountains and our new home of two days, Sun City and its fabulous game preserve, Pilanesburg.
Photo Updates!
Hello Everyone!
I'll let Jeff and the choir members fill you in on exactly how incredible Saturday and Sunday were, but I wanted to post some photos for you to see what we've been up to.
Blogspot is limiting me to 5 photos at a time, so i'll have to post more at another time.
Jeff gives a radio interview with TiTi from Classic FM about the choir and its tour, specifically the concert in Kwa Thema, which would be the following night.
Typical home in Kliptown, the site of Pam's Creche. We were treated to a quick walk through the Shanty town, where were greeted by curious but welcoming faces, many of which belonged to children saying "shoot me!" ("take my photo") We'll not soon forget this adventure, as the images we saw will certainly stay with us forever
The children at Pam's Creche found my red hair intriguing, and immediately started playing hair-dresser!
Sidumo Nyemezele from St. Mary's Anglican Cathedral leads the group in their first singing of the tour- a workshop to work on Zulu, Xhosa, Tswana, etc...
The INCREDIBLY ENTHUSIASTIC crowd at Kwa Thema Methodist Church was overwhelming, not like any other audience I've ever seen. The soloist could barely be heard over there was so much rousing applause and Ululating!
More soon!!!
Amanda
I'll let Jeff and the choir members fill you in on exactly how incredible Saturday and Sunday were, but I wanted to post some photos for you to see what we've been up to.
Blogspot is limiting me to 5 photos at a time, so i'll have to post more at another time.
Jeff gives a radio interview with TiTi from Classic FM about the choir and its tour, specifically the concert in Kwa Thema, which would be the following night.
Typical home in Kliptown, the site of Pam's Creche. We were treated to a quick walk through the Shanty town, where were greeted by curious but welcoming faces, many of which belonged to children saying "shoot me!" ("take my photo") We'll not soon forget this adventure, as the images we saw will certainly stay with us forever
The children at Pam's Creche found my red hair intriguing, and immediately started playing hair-dresser!
Sidumo Nyemezele from St. Mary's Anglican Cathedral leads the group in their first singing of the tour- a workshop to work on Zulu, Xhosa, Tswana, etc...
The INCREDIBLY ENTHUSIASTIC crowd at Kwa Thema Methodist Church was overwhelming, not like any other audience I've ever seen. The soloist could barely be heard over there was so much rousing applause and Ululating!
More soon!!!
Amanda
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday in South Africa
Well, Friday was just wonderful!!! We really experienced Joburg and saw that it is truly the most AFRICAN city in South Africa.... downtown Joburg is GRITTY, swarming with people, impromptu stands set up everywhere that sell everything from fruit to clothing to even a single cigarette. It's not a pretty place, but one must experience this to truly understand the country and Apartheid and its ending. The contrast of the dirt and grit of downtown Joburg with the King-of-Prussia-style mall where we were dropped off to find a bite for lunch was pretty extreme!My radio interview was fine... (thankfully not too long!) Reminded me of the experience Anne Mooney and I had with our 1992 radio interview in Dublin.... RACING to find the radio station, arriving JUST in time... that's exactly how this one unfolded!) The highlight of the day was unquestionably the workshop in St. Mary's Cathedral with Sidumo Jacobs, director of the choir there. Sidumo is an effervescent, warm and energetic young man who can communicate more with his eyes than most do with their entire bodies. As jet lagged as the choir was, they did everyone proud over the 2+ hour workshop in which they learned BY ROTE numerous pieces in Zulu.... a few brain dead by the end, for sure! But, Sidumo was thrilled, thrilled, thrilled.... so much so that he turned to me and said, "Jeffrey, I have an idea for ANOTHER song they might sing in ZULU." I probably gasped, then replied, "yes?" The choir was probably having other thoughts at that moment!! ANYWAY, he said, "I'd like them to learn 'Amen Siakadumisa"! I could only whoop and holler, since THAT was the very piece we had learned before the trip to use as a blessing at our communal meals. Everyone was thrilled! He taught us an additional verse in Sutu... not too difficult! Dinner was at a great place on Nelson Mandela Square... much glorious conversation and bountiful laughter, especially when the face painters decked Nathan, Jim Batt's and my face (and head) with ultra elaborate paintings.... pictures will follow!Love to all...
Friday, June 29, 2007
SA News
Philadelphia has cooled off a bit - thunder and lightening did the trick last evening! Down below mid 90's. First official "SA News" went out yesterday to a captive audience of 110! Not bad!
Stay safe and well -
Stay safe and well -
Thursday, June 28, 2007
We're HERE!
Well,
We are HERE!! Safe, uneventful flight... everyone raving about how fine South African airlines is. Joburg had 4 inches of snow yesterday (first time it's snowed in several decades!) BUT, all gone by our arrival.
Everyone is in great spirits, surprisingly coherent... our first group meal, a great exploration of S. African food (especially desserts).... and, happily, all remembered our sung blessing, Amen Siakadumisa! Yippee!
I suspect we'll all sleep very well tonight.... tomorrow we have a city tour of Joburg, JB has a radio interview to push Saturday's concert, and we have a choral workshop (IN ZULU) in the afternoon...
I'll keep this short.... 'cause, we're just a bit jet lagged... but, everyone is thinking of all of you back home and hoping that you keep us in your prayers as well!!Much love from S. Africa... more to come.
We are HERE!! Safe, uneventful flight... everyone raving about how fine South African airlines is. Joburg had 4 inches of snow yesterday (first time it's snowed in several decades!) BUT, all gone by our arrival.
Everyone is in great spirits, surprisingly coherent... our first group meal, a great exploration of S. African food (especially desserts).... and, happily, all remembered our sung blessing, Amen Siakadumisa! Yippee!
I suspect we'll all sleep very well tonight.... tomorrow we have a city tour of Joburg, JB has a radio interview to push Saturday's concert, and we have a choral workshop (IN ZULU) in the afternoon...
I'll keep this short.... 'cause, we're just a bit jet lagged... but, everyone is thinking of all of you back home and hoping that you keep us in your prayers as well!!Much love from S. Africa... more to come.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tomorrow we go!!
Well, now we're 24 hours away from departing. So exciting. I hope all will check this blog often. We plan to add photos and various narratives throughout this journey. We also invite and encourage your prayers for a safe and spirit-filled tour.
Friday, June 15, 2007
KNYSNA CONCERT
12 days left, everyone!
The Knysna concert, which is part of the Oyster Festival, is being widely publicized throughout the Garden Route, and is actually the first event of the festival!
I just sent over this poster for them to hang in store windows, hotels, etc, so be on the lookout in Knysna!
I can't wait to share a Windhoek and a dozen on the half-shell with you all in this unbelievably beautiful town. See you all SOON!
-A
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
3 Week Mark!
Hello Everyone! This is my very first blog post, and I'm testing it out. We're now three weeks from departure and the excitement is growing! Above is the concert poster for the first concert in Kwa Thema, on the East Rand side of Jo-burg. The concert is shaping up nicely indeed!
Here is a link to the Knysna Oyster Festival homepage:
http://www.oysterfestival.co.za/programme/2/
I suppose you could say we're the kickoff event!
See you all soon!
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Welcome to the blog of Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church's Senior Choir and its upcoming tour to S. Africa. We depart in just 2 weeks for an adventure that includes visits to Johannesburg, Soweto, Pilanesburg, Port Elizabeth, Grahamstown (where we perform in Africa's largest arts festival), Kynsna (with a performance in the local Dutch Reformed Church), and on to Capetown! Be sure and check back to this blog for updates and, depending on computer access, PHOTOS!
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