there is plenty of food in the world. there are plenty of resources. but there are few who have a lot and many who have not enough. the extremes of wealth and poverty are beyond the simple results of injustice and greed - at the root, they are the result of a lack of true, universal brotherhood and love, where people and governments are not deeply connected to the reality that humanity is essentially and ultimately one family.
we would never allow one's cherished family members to live in a state of abject poverty, or without access to a good education, or without good land on which to grow one's food, etc....
the real crisis is that not enough people throughout the world and from wealthy governments truly love their neighbor. the crisis is that those individuals and governments with so much do not exert their will to redistribute and ensure that enough is provided to ensure a healthy way of life for every human being in this world. there isn't enough collective and political will yet to change the laws and establish systems whereby every individual is considered significant and important to the beauty of the human race.
any and all of these necessary and vital changes must spring forth from the heart, to make daily efforts toward establishing justice in our lands, in our communities, in our neighborhoods - it is the heart that must be inspired daily by the reality of our Oneness, so that we no longer are content with only our own well-being, that we are no longer able to feel at peace until all our brothers and sisters are being assisted in their contribution to the transformation of the world toward its final victory: the oneness of the human race in one organic world system of justice and peace.
vigil against xenophobia
friday, may 23rd, the kids and i attended a peace vigil against xenophobia. we parked near the art museum downtown and walked with 2 friends to the Parliament building. a crowd had formed upon our arrival, but there were many more to come. an eternal flame was held up high, along with the South African flag, and soon the chanting and singing of various songs and calls for universal brotherhood, peace, and love for our neighbors were raised up high. i kept looking around at the wide variety of people who came to show their support for immigrants and foreigners in this land: Christian pastors and Muslim leaders, Cape Malay, Xhosa, Congolese, Europeans, elders, children, students....at one point the whole crowd held hands and raised their arms up in the air for one of the freedom songs. at another time the crowd loudly sang the national anthem together:
Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika
Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo,
Yizwa imithandazo yethu,
Nkosi sikelela,
thina lusapho lyawo.
Sounds the call to come together,
And united we shall stand,
Let us live and strive for freedom,
In South Africa our land.
what i felt and witnessed that evening is that a lot of people care deeply about our humanity, our oneness, and were brought together as a result of tragedies that are heartbreaking. before leaving, the drummer created a space inside the circle of Xhosa women who were singing some spirituals, and then we were all swept into a rhythmic dance around them, singing some Xhosa song about Thixo (God). the photographers were trying to capture the moment, but what occurred next left its imprint in our hearts: the drummer raised his hands in praise and began to call out the names of African peoples living here in Cape Town; his acknowledgement of each of these populations felt powerful to me, as if no one was forgotten and all were recognized as important; then he asked all of us to pray for peace in our own language -- by this time the sun was setting and the candlelight illumined the gathering as the crowd prayed in unison in many different languages. the power of that moment has no measurement, but surely all of us left there feeling how powerful the light of unity is....
Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika
Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo,
Yizwa imithandazo yethu,
Nkosi sikelela,
thina lusapho lyawo.
Sounds the call to come together,
And united we shall stand,
Let us live and strive for freedom,
In South Africa our land.
what i felt and witnessed that evening is that a lot of people care deeply about our humanity, our oneness, and were brought together as a result of tragedies that are heartbreaking. before leaving, the drummer created a space inside the circle of Xhosa women who were singing some spirituals, and then we were all swept into a rhythmic dance around them, singing some Xhosa song about Thixo (God). the photographers were trying to capture the moment, but what occurred next left its imprint in our hearts: the drummer raised his hands in praise and began to call out the names of African peoples living here in Cape Town; his acknowledgement of each of these populations felt powerful to me, as if no one was forgotten and all were recognized as important; then he asked all of us to pray for peace in our own language -- by this time the sun was setting and the candlelight illumined the gathering as the crowd prayed in unison in many different languages. the power of that moment has no measurement, but surely all of us left there feeling how powerful the light of unity is....
glimpse into life: cape town, south africa
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| Litobile, Luthando & Lonwabo |
...for 9 years i have either been pregnant, nursing or raising a toddler. i now live in a new land and have 4 solid hours without the children during school days. i try to balance that time between service to the home/family, community, and to myself. by 12:15 i'm back at the school (unless volunteering there in domani's class already) to pick up domani. we usually hang out with his friends, eating some lunch that i've brought with me. i almost always take one of his friends home. sometimes we stay so long at school that dyami is finished (2nd and 4th graders end school at different times, and then each student has their own schedule depending on whether or not they have an extra-curricular activity afterward). between 1-3:30 i'm picking the children up from school, running errands, or visiting the family of the boy i take home. monday through thursday we aim to focus on homework and studying until dinnertime, but school closes at 1pm on fridays, so we always look forward to doing something fun that afternoon. below are some slices of life experiences here in cape town....
...one morning i had planned to visit 2 different homes, in 2 different townships, the first time i'm venturing out on my own for the whole morning. the first home was near the airport so i thought i'd be able to remember where they lived, but as i was completely distracted by the dilapidated shacks, and horses pulling people on carts in the middle of a busy automobile intersection, i ended up calling my friend 2 times before i arrived at her house. this is the beginning of the day and i was already inundated with emotion and thoughts racing through my mind -- yet i arrived and was welcomed with such an appreciation and joy that tears came to our eyes as the mother of the home expressed her gratitude for the visit. i felt pain for the 1000's of homes, with 100's of 1000's of people in them who wished someone would come visit them (and not just because of the cookies i had with me)
...i meet many people who are outside working. most of them are Xhosa people who are trying to make a living. one of the workers for the hotel next door is named Lothando. i had met him back in January when we first moved here. he is a hard-working young man who sweeps the street and sidewalk. yesterday i was walking back to the flat with Ayana and we came over to say hello to him. his name tag now read, 'David'. i asked him why it was changed. he said something about management and i could feel my heart begin to race with anger about this kind of injustice perpetuated by white owners and managers who continue to keep psychologically demoralizing the people upon which this entire nation's material development has been built! Lothando is his name, not David! all i could think about was how hard the black and colored populations have worked; how much they have suffered and how so many continue to bear the burden of apartheid's oppressive system of injustice. i expressed to him my feelings in a calm manner and offered what i could to express a sense of respect and honor for his name which means 'love'. he expressed his gratitude and we went home. later in the morning i was walking home from errands and couldn't stop thinking about this issue, so i went into the hotel and asked if i could submit a complaint. the person behind the counter said the manager wasn't in, so i shared the complaint with him -- he is Xhosa himself and though a worker of the hotel, his soft smile about the complaint made me think he's ready for a social revolution. this changing of names happens too much in the business world! he said he'd pass on the complaint and i said i'll follow up on it. today i went and explained to management that Lothando does not know i am making this complaint, nor did he express any complaint himself [it would be the worst result if he lost his job because of me trying to stand up for justice]. south africa is a country that is in a healing process of racism, and i feel compelled to arise however possible to address each and every situation that presents itself throughout the day. the manager was sympathetic and said it was important for me to report this, then explained to me that the hotel hires a company which employs workers like Lothando...i can only hope that he'll look into the matter as he said he would, but i feel peaceful knowing that at least Lothando felt a sense of respect from a stranger who cared...
...sometimes Domani and i return early back to school before picking up Dyami. we walk to the lower gate hoping to find Litobile and Yothando who are usually still around waiting for their transport to come and pick them up. Litobile (pronounced Leetobeelay) is 6 and Yothando is 8. they are always enjoying some kind of creative play (digging for marbles; playing hide and seek; throwing objects to get stuck up in the trees). one afternoon we were all hanging out together and Yothando says, "Will you please play 'On' with us, please?" 'On' is tag here, and when you touch the person you say, 'You're on!' what else could i say but 'OK!' :-) there were a couple other children playing as well, but these 2 boys always tried to get me. i felt like such a kid! we had so much fun running around until my side ached so badly i had to take a time out. i took out the camera for which they love to pose. it was one of those moments here that are eternal, where time stands still and the experience is true joy. i seem to cross paths with these boys so much that it feels like we're family. they lighten up and show affection as so many of the children here do. being at this school is experiencing real community....
...Delft is the name of the township out by the airport where we go each sunday morning for children's spiritual education classes. going into this township is one of my favorite things to do. i love how the children see the car and run up to greet us. i love how they come and sit down with full attention and participation to whatever they are learning and experiencing; i love how they use the drum and start doing some Xhosa dances to the beats... one afternoon the kids and i were there visiting our friends. I helped Phamela (coincidentally we have the same name; the 'h' in Xhosa is silent) do some of the work in the home and then went outside to play soccer (football). the streets are very narrow and the homes close to the road. it's almost inevitable that kicking the ball will lead you into someone's yard. well, thankfully, the ball led us around the block and we met some youth who were just hanging out - the ball rolled their way and they kicked it back at us -- it enabled the boys and i to meet them. at first they didn't want to play, but i was like, 'c'mon, there's nothin' else goin' on...you can teach these small boys how to play some soccer.' so one of them got up and had a blast playin' ball with dyami and domani. the significance for me was how we don't know anyone but we were able to hang out with the neighbors. it was the best! the boys gave the youth a pound, fist to fist, and then they put their fist to their heart, where the love is felt...the afternoon ended by hanging out with the Zimbabwean fellows across the street: the children sat with them, picking up 100's of beads on the ground that the men couldn't use anymore for their artwork, putting the beads in plastic bags to reuse at home for their own artwork...
there are hundreds of experiences like these where my heart leaps with loving gratitude for being able to connect soul to soul with so many of our brothers and sisters here in the cape town region of the world...
the baboon experience
we were just entering the Cape Point National Park, driving along talking about what animals we hope to enjoy seeing. then up ahead dash and i notice a whole family of baboons, walking along both sides of the road! we inform the children with great excitement and take out the camera. in a moment, we are able to witness and marvel at several mama baboons with babies grasping on for dear life -- and right after i snap a photo of this wonder, i hear dash yelling, 'Dyami, close your window!' dash noticed a papa baboon approaching our car in a way that one knows is full of danger! but dyami couldn't coordinate himself quickly enough and in a split second that baboon was on our car, with its long claws clinging on the inside of dyami's window and its body pushing its way through the open space! a moment later he was inside the car, sitting on dyami and ayana's lap, searching for food! while i frantically put away the camera, dash helped dyami open his car door. as soon as he opened his car door, i opened mine and climbed out - 2 more baboons, one of which was a baby, climbed in, and the first one climbed through the front to grab the small bag with a muffin in it -- he stopped by my feet, just outside the car, with the bag in his hands and grunted with his vicious-looking teeth at me as if to say, 'Don't even think about it!' the children sat traumatized while dash helped the other 2 baboons find their way back out through the back door.
we sat there in shock. with the windows now rolled up and tears in the children's eyes, dash and i watched in amazement how the baboon craftfully tore apart the bag and ensured that he ate every morsel of that muffin. he sat there on the side of the road with great contentment and satisfaction. dyami was so upset; the second baboon walked away with his bag of colored pencils. if you know dyami, you know he loves his art materials, and this seemed more painful to his heart than the actual scare of the baboons' claws and teeth in his face. the driver behind us walked over to collect the ripped-apart bag of pencils, and as he handed them to dyami, he cautioned us about having any food in the car with open windows (we smiled because it was obvious now how to protect ourselves around the baboons' territory).
this experience was like an initiation into the world of baboons. we drove on like soldiers that survived an attack. dash and i kept laughing -- it was such a crazy experience! we felt grateful that none of us panicked and that God protected us from any attack by the baboons. the children wanted to go home and implored us not to take them to a game reserve in the future!
onward we drove, determined to reach cape point where the atlantic and indian oceans meet. the hike up the mountain was refreshing and full of beauty, with a quick glimpse of a few harmless lizards, but when we came back to rest at the welcome center, a baboon's quest for food was in full effect. he went right for a lady's unopened snack bags - he surprised her as she walked around a bend and quickly grabbed 2 out of 4 bags. he sat eating them for a while; when he finished he walked around until found a woman's pocketbook sitting on a ledge by itself. this is where the show began to attract many people. he sat on the ledge and dumped out all of the contents while he searched for what he sensed was in there: a pear, a box of chocolates and a container of butter. for a moment he walked a short distance away from it -- the owner of the bag quickly ran to grab her pocketbook but instantly the baboon went after her and knocked her down, scratching her back as she stumbled, and took the pocketbook back from her. that's when the crowd began to disperse. it was all fun and games until she interrupted his groove and disturbed what was now his possession until he decided when he was done with it. that lady was shaking!
the lesson to the children was clear: leave the animals alone and they will leave us alone. the baboon didn't want to hurt anyone or bother anybody; he just wanted to eat his food.
domani now tells his brother and sister how he's gonna do some karate moves on the baboon next time, as he skillfully demonstrates his power of punching and kicking -- but ayana and dyami are quick to tease by saying to him, "Domani, you are all strong and courageous now, but when the baboon was on our laps you were like 'aaaah!!'" :-)
Reality
there are many experiences and emotions of daily life that i think are interesting, teaching me a spectrum of reality that is new and working itself on my inner thoughts and feelings. i struggle with the extremes of wealth and poverty, finding myself in the middle of institutionalized racism, seen easily by shacks on one side and fine homes with every sign of privilege on the other. i wake up and face the world with this consciousness and realize it affects every decision i’m making - my whole life is one sense of consciousness toward justice. i break it down in my mind with every human interaction, in the spirit of upholding each man’s dignity and restoring each man’s pride. it makes me reflect on how america might have been in most areas in the 1950’s when the consciousness about race was prevalent, not hidden or thought of as ‘progress has been made’. no, not here, not now, the effects of apartheid are so raw and real that i hear every kind of person talking about it…. the white school teacher, the Xhosa concierge in the building, the ‘colored’ cleaner…everyone. i bring this into the prologue of any writing because it’s really the root from which all else proceeds. as complex as the issues are that effect millions of people here, there is also that layer of sub-community life that is rich in culture, tradition and contentment which enables joy to be experienced. for example, within the Xhosa townships there are community centers, shops, schools and churches - it’s a world unto itself, taking care of itself with meager resources. i am learning that there are many sub-cultures within this land, based on where the apartheid government settled people (just like the american gov’t did with the indiginous peoples, giving them arbitrary land areas that were inhospitable for agriculture or without any assistance to enable them to become economically sustainable) -- so there are indian, colored, Xhosa and white areas, each with their own culture and support system, schools and community events.
now that it’s been almost 14 years since mandela first became president and changes began to readjust opportunities and settle retributions, a few areas have people renting or buying homes and creating a diverse population. then there are a few locations, like where we live, where the population is very diverse due to more businesses and therefore, work opportunities, as well as apartment complexes inexpensive enough to enable Xhosa, colored, and indian populations to live there. there is wealth amongst these 3 populations (including muslim, hindu and christian faiths); most choose to still stay in their communities rather than settling where whites live because cultural support and community life is more important to them than having a special house, view or amount of land. we seem to be in a unique setting and are grateful for this to be our first experience in south africa -- it’s not a gated community; it’s not a township of one kind where we are the only foreigner; and it’s not dominated by one faith community (each of the 3 main religions are represented, especially noticeable at the school in terms of holidays). we are surrounded by many kinds of people, including families and individuals from many other african nations.
i feel like i had to put all of that into the mix before sharing stories because this is the reality. if i am having a relaxful moment at a beach, i am aware of and thinking about all of this and how it’s a part of the scene. if i am talking on a bench with the Xhosa mother who still has land far away on the eastern cape, i am constantly reminded that millions have come here for ‘opportunity’ only to be trapped into a system of poor housing or none at all; they then realize the expenses of life are drastically different from their way of life - yet hope and patience keep many here on the western cape despite the fact that most wish they could return ‘home’ to the villages (even if they have lived and worked here for 10 or so years).
the stories that break my heart are the ones where people live where they work and the ones about a broken spirit as a result of displacement and crushed sense of self-worth. in only 1 ½ months i have met and listened to dozens of stories of how life is the way it is. for example, there is a colored couple who live where we live; they work and live in the building, but if you saw how they lived and how hard they work you would feel a sense of rage because it’s simply unjust. they have one room to share, to cook, sleep and live in, with a narrow place to walk in between the bed and stuff all around; they have to walk across a public pathway to enter the area where they can shower and go to the bathroom - there is almost no privacy because they have to share it with another worker who has a room next to the bathroom. i try to imagine having to walk past residents who are arriving or leaving while wearing my robe and slippers on my way to the shower. their living space is so small and dark that it gives me a glimpse into what the informal settlement life might be like -- instead of complaining they are grateful; they grumble a bit about waiting 14 years here for housing but they radiate joy while working long and hard hours, without any right to own their own key to enter on their own, or any right to have any family come and stay over night, and little pay for the important work they provide. another reality exists for the 100,000's of Xhosa individuals who live here like a local, but they also don't have their own place: they live with families or managers of businesses to do the cleaning work. they only get to go home, back to the Eastern Cape, which is 14 hours away, once a year; they can only stay for 2-4 weeks before needing to return to make a living. they miss their way of life and families deeply, yet they sacrifice and do what they feel is necessary to provide economic support for their families.
my mind then switches over to 100,000’s if not over a million people in the informal settlements, without any proper floor, sometimes no window, no plumbing, public toilets that are intolerable for anyone to manage without losing a sense of dignity -- despite this reality, and the reality that for 6 months when it rains they are flooded out of their homes, people do uphold a sense of self-dignity for the most part, holding on to who they are as a people, hopeful of change, determined to persevere through these times of transition. many people who are reflecting on the vision of south africa wonder how long the masses will be patient -- the unmet promises of having land, housing and opportunities restored to them remains to be fulfilled. when i see the richness and resourcefulness of the people, i feel humbled by their resilience and inner strength, as well as their cultural contributions to a land which has a great destiny.
barefoot
There's something that has been attracting my attention ever since we arrived in cape town, something that reminds me in the sweetest way that we are no longer living in a typical American city, attending a regular public school. It's one of those almost insignificant details of the school scene that I find my eyes completely observing in such a joyful way: little bare feet walking and running free from constraint in a shoe, with toes that get to grip mother earth and feel one no artificial barrier between their many nerve endings and the natural world below.
Today was the first time one of our children exited the school gate barefoot. I immediately called from across the street, 'Where are your shoes?' With a gleeful sense of wonderment, Dyami simply answered, as if nothing unordinary was occurring, 'In my bag'. I felt so happy for his soul to feel a sense of freedom about removing his shoes -- but also because we are living in South Africa, where it's no big deal to walk through the hall or home from school without one's shoes on - everything is laid back, less restricted, and the children are happy! The rules that matter are strictly enforced, like being responsible and polite, well-mannered and respectful. Being barefoot is a sign to me that this land hasn't lost it's sense of what makes us feel connected with the land. This is something I appreciate (though when we arrived home we put Dyami right into the tub to scrub the black stain from his feet). :-)
Today was the first time one of our children exited the school gate barefoot. I immediately called from across the street, 'Where are your shoes?' With a gleeful sense of wonderment, Dyami simply answered, as if nothing unordinary was occurring, 'In my bag'. I felt so happy for his soul to feel a sense of freedom about removing his shoes -- but also because we are living in South Africa, where it's no big deal to walk through the hall or home from school without one's shoes on - everything is laid back, less restricted, and the children are happy! The rules that matter are strictly enforced, like being responsible and polite, well-mannered and respectful. Being barefoot is a sign to me that this land hasn't lost it's sense of what makes us feel connected with the land. This is something I appreciate (though when we arrived home we put Dyami right into the tub to scrub the black stain from his feet). :-)
wings of detachment
The true foundation of all economics
"Strive...to create love in the hearts in order that they may become glowing and radiant. When that love is shining, it will permeate other hearts even as this electric light illumines its surroundings. When the love of God is established, everything else will be realized. This is the true foundation of all economics....Show what love is, what kindness is, what true severance accordance with the teachings of Baha'u'llah....Economic questions will not attract hearts. The love of God alone will attract them. Economic questions are most interesting; but the power which moves, controlsa and attracts the hearts of men is the love of God."
Early morning reflection
This morning our 3 year old son walked into our bedroom and quietly woke me up with, "Mama, my leg is hurting." He sometimes has 'growing pains' in his little calf muscles. So i rubbed his little muscles and asked him to go back to sleep. It was 5:44am. He returned several minutes later with the same complaint. This time i rubbed him and realized his jammies were damp, so now i'm wide awake and taking him to the bathroom to give him pain medicine and change his clothes. He enjoyed the sweet medicine and wanted to sleep naked, so i sent him to his bed while i took care of his things.
Now i'm laying in bed, awake but tired. My mind is thinking about how these nightly interruptions occur with such consistent regularity that if i get a whole night's sleep without being woken, i feel more tired than when i don't. It's as if my body is accustomed to little sleep, so a good night's sleep actually makes my body realize what it's been missing..... But after a moment of restfulness and hope that my son was not going to come back into the room, i felt the cotton covers touching my chin. Any complaint or negativity about not being able to fall back asleep vanished: I wasn't fearful of my life. I am not in a refugee camp. No one has raped me. I am not hungry. I have a home. God has given me beautiful children. I am warm....
It was a moment of connecting with the oneness of our humanity that enabled me to stop being self-consumed by an inconvenience. How dare i grumble when my brothers and sisters are facing insurmountable and extremely difficult physical challenges in the face of poverty, war, natural disasters, etc. In a moment i felt grateful and content.
Now i'm laying in bed, awake but tired. My mind is thinking about how these nightly interruptions occur with such consistent regularity that if i get a whole night's sleep without being woken, i feel more tired than when i don't. It's as if my body is accustomed to little sleep, so a good night's sleep actually makes my body realize what it's been missing..... But after a moment of restfulness and hope that my son was not going to come back into the room, i felt the cotton covers touching my chin. Any complaint or negativity about not being able to fall back asleep vanished: I wasn't fearful of my life. I am not in a refugee camp. No one has raped me. I am not hungry. I have a home. God has given me beautiful children. I am warm....
It was a moment of connecting with the oneness of our humanity that enabled me to stop being self-consumed by an inconvenience. How dare i grumble when my brothers and sisters are facing insurmountable and extremely difficult physical challenges in the face of poverty, war, natural disasters, etc. In a moment i felt grateful and content.
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