Can you pay my telephone bills?

For those of you who didn’t recognize it, the above title comes from a Destiny’s Child song popular in the late ‘90s.  I hear that the Houston group which included Beyoncé might be set for a reunion performance at this year’s Super Bowl, which I hopefully will be able to watch on TV in the early Monday hours here.  Regrettably, my use for the lyrics in today’s writing is inspired less by happiness at Houston girls finding success on a grand stage and more by apoplexy caused by the actions of South Africans.

I have mentioned in previous posts that one of the most important things I have learned from my time in the Peace Corps is that development does not occur simply because one has access to resources.  It is rather how one utilizes one’s resources that makes the difference.  There are certain days in my time here in South Africa in which this fact is made frustratingly clear, and unfortunately, today is one of those days.  Before I get to what currently has me seeing red let me offer another example of what I mean.

One of the Peace Corps volunteers here is a middle aged man from Massachusetts with a background in computers.  He’s a fantastic guy, and I don’t think there is anyone (at least no American) that does not immensely enjoy having him around.  For his service, he was assigned to assist with a community computer centre that was built and sponsored by Vodacom, one of the largest telecommunications companies in southern Africa.  The intent of the centre was to provide computer training and free internet access to populations that might not otherwise have the opportunity.  When my friend first arrived at the centre, Vodacom was on the verge of removing their funding and abandoning the project because of the mismanagement that had occurred by the local staff.  (Because it is supposed to be a community centre, local members of the community were employed rather than Vodacom employees.)

This American, through much hard work and persistence and despite having any authority, managed to get the centre up and running again, and was able to train a good number of people through the computer courses that he began offering.  His main problem in providing such training, however, has been that every several weeks the centre’s electricity is interrupted, after which it usually takes a few weeks to get the electricity restored.  Based on such a description, most people would probably assume that this was due to poor electrical infrastructure and/or insufficient power generation.  The funny and sad thing about it, though, is that it is neither. 

The reason why this man’s centre has gone without power so many times is because the woman responsible for the centre’s finances did not bother to pay the electricity bill.  Again, based on such a description, one might assume that this was because there were not enough funds.  The centre, however, is sponsored by a major telecommunications company, so funding is not the issue.  The money is there, the woman simply did not do her job and pay the bill.  One might excuse this the first time as an oversight, but as I mentioned above, this has happened multiple times over the past 17 months, and the person hired to manage the centre has taken no action.  The woman has not been fired, reprimanded, or even had the responsibility for paying bills taken away from her.  To make matters worse, when the bill goes unpaid and the electricity is shut off, the electrical company charges a re-connection fee to restore power.  Money is thus, wasted, instead of being channeled towards new computers and community computer education.  The centre is currently again without power for the same reason, and my friend is finally being moved by Peace Corps to another assignment because despite all efforts and patience, he simply cannot help if the staff continues to operate in such a fashion.

I have experienced similar situations at the school where I work.  When I first arrived, the school was not responsible for paying its own bills because of financial mismanagement and theft that had occurred in the past.  For this reason, all bills were paid directly by the provincial Department of Education.  Unfortunately, such an arrangement did not serve the school much better than when the school’s account was being plundered by local officials. 

We went through a period of 3 weeks in which we had no phone use because the bill had gone unpaid.  I used my own money and cell phone to call various officials at the Department to try to figure out what was going on and how the situation could be resolved.  After being passed from one person to another, always finding people out of the office, leaving multiple messages (none of which was ever returned), I was finally able to get a hold of a relevant person.  When this woman picked up, and I stated the reason for my call, it was immediately evident she wished she had not answered my call and had actually been avoiding me. 

What I discovered was that the woman in the finance section of the Department of Education who was responsible for paying our school’s bills was on vacation for several weeks.  Neither she nor the department had made any arrangements to pay the bills prior to her leaving or to assign the responsibility to someone else in her absence.  The response I received was that the bills would be paid when she returned from vacation, but that we were out of luck until then.  There was not much more I could do, so I had to leave the matter at that.  Again, as far as I know, no action was taken against the woman for such behaviour, and no plan was made to handle things differently in the future.  I guess schools will just have to continue being without telephone and electricity when people go on holiday.

Which leads me to today.  My school was finally given back control of its finances in the middle of last year.  The council of local people responsible for governing the school, elected as treasurer an unemployed young man without any financial qualifications or experience.  As the year wore on, it became obvious that this young man was being negligent in his responsibilities such that checks were being written without documentation, receipts were not being kept, and yes, bills were not being paid.  The principal actually had to pay the telephone bill out of his own pocket one month because the bill had not been paid and the telephone company was threatening to disconnect the line if payment was not given that day.  I was finally asked at the end of the year to take a look at the school finances to see if I could help put things in a bit more order.  When I did so, I discovered a number of “irregularities”, to put it nicely.  Probably because the annual report from the school was not forthcoming, the Department of Education eventually sent in their own team to investigate, though, as far as I know, again, no action was taken.

When I showed up for the new school year at the beginning of January, I found that the same man was still holding the cheque book for the school and still responsible for the finances.  Not like I was surprised, of course.  Then early this afternoon, I was summoned to the school clerk’s office to assist her with a computer issue.  There was an error that was occurring with the software we use to report our student data to the Department.  Upon looking at it, I told her that it was not a problem I could solve and that we needed to call the IT support person at the Department of Education.  Her response: “We can’t.  The phone’s been disconnected because the bill was not paid.”

So now I sit here at my desk, typing on my computer, as probably one of the only people who is experiencing higher blood pressure as a result of this incident, trying to figure out why I still get upset at this kind of stuff after 19 months of experiencing it.  Oh well, I think, I’ll just take a deep breath, laugh, and download Destiny’s Child’s song as my new ringtone.

The Parent Trap

Even after having been in South Africa for more than 18 months, I still am left open-mouthed and on the verge of tears at the tragedies occurring here, especially to children.  We started our school year on Wednesday (South Africa’s school year runs from January to December), and I wanted to make a concerted effort to get to know my learners.  From my experience, the more you know about a person, the better you can understand them and, in my case, the better you can help/teach them.

For this reason, in class today, I handed out a sheet titled “About You” in which I asked for various pieces of information such as the learner’s name, surname, date of birth, address, hobbies, etc.  My class period occurred right after lunch break, so when I entered the room to begin the lesson, only 13 out of 25 learners were present.  One of the things I work very hard to teach the learners, aside from my economics lessons, is punctuality and the inappropriateness of “African time” in regards to school, business, and appointments.  I, thus, have a policy that if you are not in the classroom when I begin teaching, the door is closed and you have to wait outside until my period is over.  That, of course,  meant that almost half the class was kept outside.  Harsh?  Yes, but it’s only the second day, and I know will they come around.

Anyways, I spoke to the 13 learners present about what I expected from them and what they could expect from me.  I then spoke a bit about how they needed to already be looking ahead to the year-end exam and making plans as far as further education and careers (I teach grade 12s).  I felt the session went very well, and at the end of the period, I collected the “About You” papers, returning to my office with a good feeling about my learners and the upcoming year.

Later in the afternoon, I sat down and began reading the learners’ information and entering some of it into my computer.  It was then that I was confronted with the full gravity of the situation facing my learners and the community where I work.  On the “About You” sheet, I had put lines for the learners to list their parents’ names, phone numbers, and jobs.  I was aware that some would be without parents, so I had also added another line asking who they lived with and the contact information of this person as well.  Like I said, though, even though I’ve been around it for 18 months, and know that it occurs, the sheer numbers were mind-blowing.

Of the 13 learners that I collected sheets from, 9 (69%) listed no father.  Of these, 5 (38%) also listed no mother.  From their comments, I know for a fact that 2 of the learners who did not list any parents, are orphans.  It is likely that the other missing fathers and mothers have also passed away, though it is also possible that the children were simply abandoned, which is especially prevalent with fathers.  Whatever the case, of my 13 young men and women, only 4 (31%)  have both parents alive and are in contact with them, and only 2 (15%) actually live with those parents.  All the other 11, live with their single mother, an aunt, an uncle, a grandmother, or a grandfather.  Of course, making extrapolations based on a sample size of 13 is not the most responsible of statistics, but I think anyone living in South Africa can tell you that those numbers are indicative of a large part of South Africa's population.

Now I’m not an incredibly emotional guy, but seeing numbers like that made me want to cry and punch a wall, all at the same time.  It is just difficult for me to fathom that so many of these kids are being deprived of a father and mother, and of the love, support, and stability that such an arrangement provides.  I have not seen my mom or dad in person for 18 months, but I have at least been able to talk to them by phone and see them by Skype many times during that period.  I have at least had the chance to know them and be cared for by them throughout my entire life.  I honestly cannot think of myself or who I would be without my parents.

That’s why it angers me that so many of these kids, through no fault of their own, have had these circumstances forced upon them.  They had and have no choice in the matter.  They simply have to make do with the situation.  This, of course, is by no means an emotion unique to me.  It is something I have heard echoed by several other of the American volunteers.  One even made some interesting comments (I might not be getting these entirely correct, and my apologies if that is the case) to the effect that he had always been somewhat suspicious of people who were outspoken about the importance of the nuclear family, as it seemed to be a judgment and criticism of single moms.  Having been here, though, and seen the effects of so many broken families, he said that he realized how much marriage and its role in child-raising serves to preserve a stable, successful society.

The thing that makes it all the worse is that it doesn’t have to be like this.  Even if a person is HIV-positive, if he/she gets tested and knows his status, he/she can take drugs called Anti-Retrovirals (ARVs) that help keep the virus at bay and allow most people to live long, fruitful lives.  Unfortunately, because of the stigma of HIV, many just never get tested, and then die young from “unknown causes”.  Secondly, even if a person does have a child unexpectedly or out-of-wedlock, that does not have to prevent him/her from still taking an active role in that child’s life.  Parentage should entail some amount of responsibility whether we like it or not.

The funny thing is that even though the learners I work with sometimes annoy and frustrate me to no end, I am still sometimes in awe at their ability to cope and survive in such horrid circumstances.  True, many of them have never known anything else, so it might not be quite the herculean task that an outsider sees it as.  Regardless, though, life in a township is not easy for ANYONE, and certainly not for a young man or women who has lost his mother and father, or maybe never even knew them.  For the sheer fact that they continue to get up every day and live their lives, I salute them. 

They just better be on time to class.

Is it getting any better?

To anyone who has been checking the blog over the past several months, you will have noticed a conspicuous lack of activity.  This was partly due to the fact that I got burnt out on blogging and Peace Corps in general, and partly because a solid blog post usually takes me about 3 hours to complete from start to finish.  Despite what some may think or say about my writing abilities, I am not a natural writer i.e. someone who can spontaneously pen a long and in depth piece in the course of 20 or 30 minutes.  No, when I sit down to compose a post, it is a process of deciding which topic to write about, devising a clever title, organizing my thoughts, writing, and then revising, revising, revising…  Because of this, I know when I sit down to my computer, it is going to be a while before I get back up.  That knowledge, combined with the lack of energy and motivation I was feeling towards the end of the year, was enough to continually prevent me from ever making the first key stroke.

After a long, relaxing vacation, though, I am feeling much more refreshed and positive about the remaining 8 months of my Peace Corps service here in South Africa.  I also, during reflections over the holiday, made a resolution to be more regular about my posts.  In order to accomplish that goal, however, I have realized that it is going to be necessary for me to shorten up my writing.  As much satisfaction as I feel when I do thoughtful 2500 word piece, I simply cannot do that at regular intervals in conjunction with all my other responsibilities.  For that reason, I have decided to make the blog a bit shorter – characterizing recent events and still offering some interpretation but without devoting an entire essay to such analysis.  The result may be less profound, but I think my readers would rather have lighter pieces that sometimes provide little more than an update as opposed to an insightful piece that only appears every month or two.  That’s not to say that I will never do a longer piece of hard-hitting quality – just don’t expect it to happen every time.

Today’s topic comes as a result of me reading through the Peace Corps Times, a quarterly publication from Headquarters in Washington that we receive in the mail.  The cover shows a young, smiling white Peace Corps volunteer standing next to a black mother and father as they weigh the couple’s adorable little baby using a scale constructed on the branch of a tree.  The caption speaks of a program called “Saving Mothers, Giving Life” which is a partnership between the Peace Corps and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).  The other article on the page shows another white Peace Corps volunteer instructing a black man on gardening inside of a used tire (tyre).  The text below explains that the American is part of a program where he shows patients with nutritional deficiencies in a hospital in Dakar, Senegal how to grow vegetables.

That may only be the cover of the newspaper but it is indicative of the rest of the content.  Page after page contains happy stories of how Peace Corps is making change here, Peace Corps is creating better lives there.  And it’s not just Peace Corps.  Look at the publications or reports from any organization involved with development such as the US Agency for International Development (USAID), Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA), and the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), and I’m willing to bet that you will see and hear much of the same.  The basic message is “Look how much good we are doing.  Look how we are creating a better world”.

The question I have asked myself over and over, however, since I arrived in South Africa, and which I’m sure many other people have asked as well, is “If we are doing so much to promote progress, making use of all this new technology, why are there still so many problems in the world?”  It’s hard to square the happy reports I just mentioned with the cold hard facts of poverty, starvation, war, disease, discrimination, and violence that plague large portions of the world.  How can this be if we are devoting so much money and effort to development and have so many stories of success?

I think the answer is two-fold.  The first part is that much of what you read from development agencies is BS.  It’s very easy to take a photo-op with smiling faces and talk about the good intentions of a program – it’s quite another to take a look at the cold, hard statistics and see that you might not be doing any good at all or might even be making the problem worse.  Recognizing that a program, regardless of how well-intentioned, is actually a waste of time and resources, is not what people want to hear, and it certainly is not what delivers more dollars from the government and private donors.  I do not want to take the negative point too far, because like I said, most people’s hearts are in the right place.  Many folks in the developed world WANT to help those less fortunate, they WANT to donate money, they WANT to promote change.  Unfortunately, if there is one thing I have discovered in my 18 months here in South Africa is that development is not simply a result of access to resources.  It is not simply a matter of giving people the tools to succeed and then letting them go.  It just doesn’t work that way, but we want to believe that it does.  Other Peace Corps volunteers as well as myself, are more than capable of writing glowing descriptions of what we have done and accomplished so far, especially if it involves applying for scholarships, graduate school, or jobs, but the hard truth, is that most of us have accomplished very little in terms of immediate measurable progress.  I am confident that I am going to positively and permanently impact the lives of at least a few people during my time here, but if I am to be brutally honest, the ultimate effect I have on South Africa and even on my town is going to be minimal.

The second reason why so many problems of such magnitude persist despite the efforts and supposed evidence of change being made is that much of what is touted as change is not sustainable.  Again, you are very likely to see a story about a program started by a foreign development worker to improve the lives of local people, but you are probably not going to hear about how that program collapsed as soon as the worker or development agency left.  The fact of the matter is that creating anything truly sustainable is incredibly difficult.  The reason is that the programs that you start are viewed as just that – YOURS.  The locals think its fine and dandy for you to start this and that, especially if it helps them out or brings an infusion of cash, but most times they do not take ownership of it.  It is something started by someone else, and they are not motivated or interested to keep it going once the initial impetus is gone.  I’m pretty confident that if you went and took a look at the projects that most Peace Corps volunteers are involved in during their service, 95% of them fail within a year of that volunteer leaving.  I would be interested to take a look at issues in years past of the Peace Corps Times and follow up on just how many of the projects mentioned are still functioning.  If they are still functioning, I would like to know how many are functioning independently of foreign management or funding.  Again, I would say the number would be close to zero.

Now, I don’t mean to be Mr. Scrooge, especially so soon after Christmas.  Some are probably asking whether maybe my girlfriend broke up with me or why the hell I am still in the Peace Corps if I am writing such things.  I don’t want people to get me wrong.  I believe in the Peace Corps, and I think it is a valuable organization.  I just have come to believe that is more valuable because of the way that it helps to shape the Americans who serve and promote a positive image of America abroad, rather than the actual impact it has on the communities it tries to serve.  I am from Texas, and we are a blunt people.  I have never believed that sugar-coating things is a good idea.  For that reason, I think that it is best for everyone if we face the facts.  Development is hard.  If it wasn’t, the field wouldn’t even exist anymore.  It is a tough truth to swallow that many times if not most times, we do not experience the success we hoped for or expected.  That doesn’t mean that we stop trying.  It simply entails that we take stock of what worked and what didn’t and re-direct our efforts accordingly.

P.S. For those of who are still convinced I’m a tireless curmudgeon, who thinks no Peace Corps volunteer, and certainly not myself, is making any difference, read this: 

I just got back the results of my school’s year-end examinations to find that 60.6% of the grade 12 learners I was teaching in economics, passed that subject compared to 30.8% the year before.  That is compared to the grade 12 pass rate across all subjects of 39% which was only 4% better than the 2011 number of 34%.  I don’t want to act like that was all me, but I’m pretty sure there are some South African kids in the township who can now explain “comparative advantage” who wouldn’t have been able to otherwise.  Boo-yah.

Also, to keep the feel-good train chugging, I just found out my older brother’s wife is in labor to give birth to their first child and my parents’ first grandchild.  Congrats and best of luck, James and Kerry!

South African English Word of the Day

pecanut – pecan

I just cannot get enough of that pecanut pie!

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Don’t mess with South Africa

When I was accepted into the Peace Corps, my position was designated as “education volunteer”.  And while I do work at a school and engage in a good deal of educational work, one of the things you find in the Peace Corps is that you must become a jack of all trades – manager as well as chief cook and bottle washer, all at the same time.  You find yourself becoming something very different from what you expected and from what you were back home in the States.  One thing I certainly never expected, though, was that I would be filling the role of environmentalist.

Outside of the Austin enclave, I think it’s fair to say that Texas and Texans are not known for their environmental sensibilities.  And to be quite honest, I am one of those “non-green” Texans.  I always looked somewhat askance at what I considered to be the crazy antics of the derisively-termed tree-huggers.  I also had a thorough distaste for what I saw as the aggressive agenda of the greenies - people who seemed to want to impose their hippie beliefs on the rest of us.  These views have not entirely changed, and I do still find suspicious, unrealistic, and economically naive a good number of the views and policies of the green contingent.

One of the things I have found from my experience in the Peace Corps, though, is that experiencing on a large scale, behaviour that is otherwise seen as harmless or trivial, causes you to move radically in the other direction.  The best example in my case is punctuality.  As any of my friends and family will tell you, I was serially late in my life in America.  I was always the guy who people were waiting on, consistently arriving 10-20 minutes late.  Having lived for a year now, though, in a country engulfed in “African time” in which people show up whenever they feel like it, I have become decidedly rigid on time, usually ensuring that I am early to whatever appointment or engagement I have made.  Seeing the problems and experiencing the frustration caused by a society in which everyone is late, often by 1 hour or more, has made me realize the great value of punctuality. 

The same can also be said for alcohol.  I enjoy drinking, but living in a place drowning in alcoholism and constant, irresponsible consumption, has definitely made me temper my habits a bit.  This further extends to the topic of my post today, which is that of littering.

The place where I live is, to put it bluntly, absolutely filthy.  Trash (or “rubbish” in South African parlance) is literally everywhere.  It is in the schoolyard, in the streets, and even outside of the local government buildings.  The landscape is strewn with potato chip bags, broken beer bottles, and used tissue paper.  You simply cannot look around without finding some form of litter on the ground.

I know some people who have witnessed or heard about this situation have suggested that it might be a result of lack of trash cans (“rubbish bins”).  The idea is that there simply is not a container readily available in which to deposit the refuse and so people, not having anywhere else to put the stuff, toss it to the floor.  It is true that trash cans are not nearly as prevalent as they are in America, and I, not wanting to be judgmental, wanted to believe this explanation, too.  Unfortunately, I have found from repeated experience, that even when a trash can is located only a few feet away, the students (and residents of the township, in general) will still chuck the garbage on the ground without thinking twice.  When asked why they don’t use the container, they respond with a mixture of confusion and annoyance as to why one would suggest such a thing.  The result is that the entire area resembles a landfill.

This puts me in one of the dicey predicaments, encountered quite often here, where you have to weigh the idea of universal values vs. culture.  For those who are unaware, the slogan “Don’t Mess with Texas” was actually originally part of an anti-littering campaign.  It has, of course, now morphed into a globally acknowledged expression of the general Texas attitude, but for me remains a truism - that to litter is to disrespect our beautiful Lone Star State which I will always call my home.  As a result, you will never find me chucking stuff on the ground, especially if it is not biodegradable.  This is for a guy who, as I mentioned above, is by no means an environmentalist.  I would like to think that as an independent-minded adult, I choose this behaviour on the basis of my own personal, logical analysis.  If I am to be quite honest, though, it is probably more because I had the idea beaten into my head since birth that you simply do not litter.

That attitude, however, does not seem to exist here.  Most Black South Africans do not seem to be bothered by the trash that is ever-present.  (I do not enjoy making racial distinctions like this, but in my experience, White South Africans do not engage in littering on near such a scale.)  I find this to be somewhat ironic given that people many times speak of Africans’ connection to the land, and the importance it plays in their culture and religion.  Such a bond to the earth does not seem to prevent them from treating the land as their wastebasket, though, and this includes township residents and rural villagers, alike.  Holding onto refuse until an appropriate bin is found is seen as needless effort.  I have come to believe that the paeans written to native people and their respect for the land are actually somewhat wrong-headed.  In my opinion, the land inhabited by natives which was found by the earliest explorers and settlers was often not clean and well cared for because of conscious choice by the original residents but rather because the aboriginal people did not produce many things that did not quickly disintegrate or rot away.  What is often hailed as conservation was, I think, sometimes simply a low level of production.

Regardless of this apparent inconsistency between respect for land and casual disposal of trash, the fact remains that it is SOUTH AFRICANS’ land.  The question I must ask myself then is: If their mindset is different, who am I, as a White foreigner, to tell them differently?  Is it not a bit presumptuous of me to tell them they are wrong and need to adopt MY values?  These are the kinds of dilemmas that one encounters as a Peace Corps volunteer.  At what point does development and aid become imperialism and self-righteousness? (It also is not lost on me that the same guy who did not appreciate hippies telling him he should act a certain way is now doing the same thing to others.)

In this case, though, I think I do have reason on my side.  The government of South Africa has stated it is committed to green practices and includes measures relating to this in much of its legislation.  In fact, the most recent summit on global warming was held in the town of Durban on the eastern coast of South Africa.  Littering is decidedly at odds with these goals, and if the popularly elected government promotes this, no one can say that is only MY values I am preaching.  Not to mention, there ARE some very negative consequences that result from littering, making rubbish disposal a practical matter as well.

Practical matters aside, though, the thing that I truly fail to understand is how a good number of Black South Africans, both young and old, seem to not mind the aesthetic effect of the presence of trash all around.  To me, it is just plain UGLY.  I don’t want my home to look like that.  I don’t throw my trash on the ground, and even when I see things on the ground that I didn’t put there, I pick them up and throw them away.  I keep my surroundings clean as a matter of pride.  In my mind, I take ownership of my area.  It is MY place, and I want MY place to look nice.  My fellow residents of Ikhutseng, however, do not share that emotion.

I do not know why so many Black South Africans do not have that same feeling of pride.  People will perhaps adduce apartheid and poverty as the reason.  Perhaps.  To me, though, the reason is not so important as the way forward. Low economic and social station are not impenetrable barriers to good environmental stewardship.  On the contrary.  When you have little, I think it is even more important that you take pride in that small amount that you do have.  It is through such pride in what you have that you learn to value other resources as well.  My mother grew up in a family that very much struggled with money in my mother’s early years yet my maternal grandmother always told my mom that regardless of how much money you have, you can always be clean.  They took this as a point of pride amidst their lack of things, and that has stuck with my mom until today.  I think those are good words to live by.  Regardless of your situation, you can always strive to be clean both personally AND environmentally.

So, at the risk of having Texas copyright lawyers hunt me down, let me end by saying:

Please, please, please – DON’T MESS WITH SOUTH AFRICA.

South African English Word of the Day

Sharp (pronounced “shop”) – good; ok; alright

Guy 1: Everything is ready for our trip.

Guy 2: Sharp!

Peace Corps for God

As I mentioned in my last post, I have recently been reading through papers sent to me by my mom, which contain old sermons delivered by my late grandfather in the 1960s.  They have been a source of continual enjoyment and reflection as they, in a way, make me feel that my grandfather is still with me and in conversation with me.  Such a feeling was further reinforced when I opened up one of the sermons to read the title of “Peace Corps for God”, delivered on August 4, 1963.

Before going over the main content of the message, I just want to say how fascinating it is to read books and writings published in another time period, as they provide incredible insight into history, and how we are shaped by the time we live in.  So often we assume ourselves to be quite independent thinkers, until events force us to realize that we are very much a product of the ideas of our family, friends, age, and time period.  It is quite interesting to see how some of our analyses as well as prognostications can be spot on while others are almost laughable in hindsight. 

Going over the words of my grandfather in 1963 is both a lesson in history and of how much has changed.  He mentions that “Communism seems to be breaking up before our eyes”.  At that time he had no idea that it would persist for another 3 decades before finally falling.

He also scolds churches for not using modern technology like mass media broadcasting and publishing to reach new populations, while simultaneously admitting that churches have become “big business” with massive amounts of funds and administration.  Compare that to now where pastors command megachurch congregations in the tens of thousands, budgets in the tens of millions, services broadcast to every corner of the earth (I can always watch Joel Osteen and T.D. Jakes, regardless of where I am in South Africa), and pastor-written books that spend weeks on the New York Times bestseller lists.

One final interesting anecdote from the sermon: my grandfather speaks of his admiration for the Mormon method of sending most of their young people on two year missions.  I don’t think it would surprise him at all to see how the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has become one of the key religious organizations in the United States with a burgeoning global population which includes the Republican candidate for President.

Returning to the main content of my grandfather’s message and also the topic of this post, the sermon given so long ago was entitled “Peace Corps for God.”  My grandfather spoke of the failing of modern-day Christian churches to effectively evangelize and was of the opinion that the Peace Corps actually mimics the form of evangelism practiced in the New Testament in which Christians went to work and live among foreign-people, trying to improve their lives here on Earth, as much as trying to save their lives in the hereafter.  My grandfather says:

Now in the last two or three years we have seen the enormous success of the Peace Corps.  I have been told that this is the most successful thing that this present administration has done.  This has done a great deal too to change the image of America, which is much misunderstood in the foreign nations of the world.  In this we have young people, not only young people but the older ones too, American citizens who give two years of their life in a foreign country, working and living amongst the people, to try and teach them our know-how, and try to help them to help themselves.  This, of course, was copied from the New Testament practice, because this is how the New Testament church did it….

It would do many of us good and open up our eyes to spend two years in a foreign land for the sake of the gospel, perhaps as a teacher, as a doctor, as a businessman in the various areas where these countries are opening up.  It might give us the richest experience as well as give us an opportunity to bring the gospel to these places where they do not know it.

Dr. Jauncey goes on to say:

Increasingly the new countries who are finding their independence are impatient of missionaries who go out simply as missionaries or as evangelists.  We have had case after case of missionaries whose visas have been turned down or cancelled because that is all they know.  These countries welcome people who can help them in the struggle for a higher standard of living, possibly by teaching, practicing medicine or carrying out a trade.  These are the areas where we can work, and astonishingly enough this is not something that is new, this is something that goes back to the message of the New Testament.

Looking back 50 years later, it is amazing how wise and forward-thinking my grandfather was, and how his words still ring true today.  I may not be proclaiming the good news of Christ, but I am working to spread my own gospel of equality, improvement, and yes, as ridiculous as it sounds, a gospel of America (which I think itself is a message of equality and improvement).  Shouting the Declaration of Independence or throwing the U.S. Constitution at someone is not going to convince people of the many positives that our nation has to offer.  It is only by my example, by choosing to live and work for change amongst the people, especially when many others do not and will not – that I will truly be able to “convert” people to view Americans as friends and the United States as a force for good.  I believe such “missionary” work will have more impact than any Voice of America production.

Furthermore, I know that even if I fail in my efforts to improve lives and create positive feelings between South Africans and Americans, my time of service will give me, as Dr. Jauncey terms it, the “richest experience” I could perhaps have.  I am not even a year into my service, yet I have already learned a good deal and have made memories to last a lifetime.

All of this makes me wonder whether my grandfather, when delivering this sermon, ever considered the possibility that he would have a grandson who would join the Peace Corps and would find inspiration in his words, 50 years later.  I don’t know.  I can only hope that if he were here today, he would be proud of my work and see me in some way as fulfilling the call, even if in a secular fashion, which he made so many years ago to his congregation.

Note: If anyone is interested in reading the full text of the sermon, I have typed it up and made it available in Microsoft Word format at the link below:

4 August 1963 - Peace Corps for God

South African English Word of the Day

till – cash register

This lane is closed, but she can help you at the next till.

Speaking with the ancestors

One of the more peculiar things I have found during my time here in South Africa has been the belief of many Black South Africans that they can communicate with ancestors who have passed away.  People who will insist that they are devout Catholic, Methodist, Baptist or a number of other Christian sects seem to see no contradiction in what sociologists call syncretism i.e. the combination of Christianity with traditional African religion.  Many Black South Africans, especially in the rural areas, are absolutely certain that the ancestors play a very large role in the lives of the living such that the deceased can cause sickness, misfortune, and sometimes even death.  This belief is one of the reasons why such huge expenditure is made on funerals and tombstones, often by people of very limited means, because it is held that if you do not show the proper respect to the dead, they will be displeased and inflict suffering on you and your family as a result.  Furthermore, I have on more than one occasion at my school, witnessed a student go into a type of seizure, in which they are foaming at the mouth, with their eyes rolled back into their head and body spasming violently.  When I suggested that we should call an ambulance or take the child to the hospital, I was told that this was unnecessary as the young woman was simply being touched by the ancestors and that it would pass in due time (which it did).

I mention this because even though most Americans may not give credence to spiritual beliefs such as those described above, I think there is a yearning in every society to connect with those who have gone before.  This is one reason why people make pilgrimages to see places from which antecedents immigrated, why we hold heritage festivals, why we do genealogical research, and why we insist on making certain kinds of recipes from the “Motherland” that otherwise would seem out of place among our hot dogs and hamburgers.  Having grown up as a regular patron of Huntsville Public Library (which I understand has now opened with all of its expansion and upgrades), I always witnessed with some confusion the activities of the Walker Country Genealogical Society.  Being a young buck, to me it seemed like just a bunch of boring, old people doing boring, old work because they didn’t have anything better to do.  I wondered why they wanted to spend so much time and energy on the past instead of living in the present.

Now, though, I think I am beginning to understand.  Heritage festivals and the like are obviously an attempt to preserve a part of our identity which we consider important and that makes us distinctive.  But just as equally powerful a reason, is that it is our own way of “speaking with the ancestors”.  By finding out about and mimicking the culture and custom of those higher on our family tree, we in some way feel that we are in communion with them.

The source of all of these musings was a package I recently received from my mom that contained several sermons that my grandfather on my mom’s side preached back in the 1960s.  Dr. Jauncey was a scholar, scientist, world traveler, best-selling author, self-made man, minister, and perhaps the smartest person I have ever met in my life.  If I ever list role models, he is at the top of my list.  He passed away in 2008, and I miss being able to chat with him about all the things he did during his incredible life.

Reading through his sermons, though, in typewriter print on 50-year old paper which has been yellowed by age, I get the strange and wonderful sensation that he is right here with me – that he is talking to me, just as if I were sitting in his church back so many years ago when the message was originally delivered.  Even though he is not here, I can hear his voice, and see his face, as I read his words line by line.  I realize that in a way, he IS communicating with me, even if not in the African fashion.

P.S.

I also am now beginning to see the value in keeping old letters, antiques, and other relics from another age, since I imagine that many people have a similar sensation when in contact with things from passed-on relatives.  It also makes me wonder whether the electronic communication which forms the majority of most of our contact today will be able to provide the same experience for those who come after me.  I am skeptical.  For that reason, I see the continuing importance of handwritten letters, as the personal nature of someone’s individual script on paper will never be rivaled by an email in your Gmail inbox.

South African English Word of the Day

babalas – hangover

By the looks of his babalas, I’d say he had one too many drinks last night.

The kingdom of heaven belongs to these

Anyone who has served in the Peace Corps will tell you that it is a roller coaster of emotions and that you have to focus on the highs in order to help you get through the lows.  What I have noticed is that for me, the high moments inevitably seem to involve children.  Whenever people ask me how I enjoy my work, I always respond that I get frustrated working with the adults but absolutely LOVE working with the kids.  Whenever I feel myself getting to my breaking point as a result of the laziness, incompetence, apathy, and selfishness that I unfortunately see displayed in so many grown-ups in my area, it always takes only about 10 minutes of working with my students to correct my cynical view of the world. 

I have come to the realization that adults most times are so set in their ways that they are not willing to change (especially when the attempted change is coming from a younger, White American).  With the kids, though, it seems I still have a chance to change attitudes, mindsets, and behaviors, and thus, outcomes.  For that reason, I have pretty much stopped trying to work with teachers, and instead am now focusing most of my time and energy on my learners.  It reminded me of the story in Matthew where small children were brought to Jesus to be blessed, yet the disciples tried to turn them away – presumably because they were too insignificant for a man of such stature.  Yet the response from the Prince of Peace was:

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14 (NIV)

Based on my experiences here in South Africa, I think the big guy was on to something.

I bring all of this up because I recently had one of those experiences that makes you think that maybe there IS hope for this world amidst all of its problems and pain.  Upon collecting my mail from the school last week, I noticed a small envelope, addressed in somewhat haphazard writing (though still better than my own) from a little girl in my hometown of Huntsville, Texas.  Upon opening it, and reading the enclosed letter, I could not help but break out in a smile from ear to ear and offer thanks for the innocence and simplicity of a child that we sometimes lose in our adult lives.  I have included the unedited letter in its entirety below.  I hope that Sarah does not mind:

Dear Josh,

First let me tell you that I am left handed, so that is why my writing (and spelling!) is so bad.  Any way, I am 10 and I live in Huntsville Texas.  Shannon Louvin (from what she said) your cousin, emailed me and told or asked me to write you a letter.  So I am writing this letter.  She told me that you teach in South Africa.  She also said that you are a very smart and athletic kid.  I was wondering if you could be my pen pal.  If you had time, energy, and if you wanted to.  I have never had a pen pal before and I thought it would be fun.  But just saying, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.  I am not tryin to force you.  You would be my first pen pal, and you know that kids always remeber their first everything.  There fist teacher, first real best friend, and first pet.  I would remember you as my first pen pal.

(P.S. Lessie is my dog.  I Love, Love her very much. (Less-e).)

Woof!

Sarah & Lessie

 

How you can possibly be down on the world after receiving something like that?  To top it all off, on the back of the letter, Sarah had drawn a picture of Lessie so I could know what she looks like.  Like I said above, it is moments like these, that make it possible to endure all of the hardships and misfortunes that I necessarily encounter in the line of work I am in.

Well, let me just say, Sarah, I would be happy to be your pen pal, as, truth be told, I also have never had a pen pal.  And even though I am no longer really a kid, I will still remember YOU as my first pen pal.

And Sarah, even if you do not read this, do not worry.  You will be receiving a handwritten letter of your own from me shortly.

Your pen pal,

Josh

South African English Word of the Day

branding – advertising, promotional signs

Josh, could you help us put up the branding at the field on Saturday morning?