I have returned home, held my niece, seen family, begun to catch up with friends...
I miss my family in South Africa, the whole congregation. I was tremendously blessed with hospitality, a humbling experience. I also worked with pastoral care, visiting the ill and the elderly, a special opportunity to get to know another human in a special way. I preached on three Sundays and four weekdays- not currently my favorite. But mostly - I'll return to this in any conversation on my time in South Africa - the opportunity to be with individuals in pastoral care 'moments' is incredible. Being a minister is to identify yourself as a trustworthy person, because strangers offer their honest struggles and raw problems when you allow yourself to enter the dialogue.
Anyways, I'm home, I'm reflecting, I'm up for chatting or hanging out.
Warm wishes to anyone who is still hanging around this blog,
Steven- over and out
13 August 2008
Thornybush Game Reserve
After a long, hard summer in deepest, darkest Africa, it was necessary to take it upon oneself to visit the African bush, the low-veld, for a few days. Strenuous business included waking up, writing pieces of an evaluation, visualizing a sermon, and scotch. It's a tough life, but someone has to do it. We did not stay at Thornybush Lodge, but it's amenities are comparable and can be viewed at http://www.thornybush.co.za/
This fellow made it inside our gated off area and just nibbled at the plants. He ate out of Chris's hand at one point.
This cutie decided to threaten our vehicle, so Ranger Joe clapped at him and he backed off.
Momma didn't so much like Joe's clapping, so we hurried backwards, emphatically.
The accommodations included this giant house, overlooking a watering hole.
At night we lounged in these chairs around a fire and had deep theological conversation with our supervisors. It was too chilly to get in the pool.
Our watering hole and resident hippos: one bull, two cows, two calves. We have much to learn from nature.
The wildest of all animals! Leah Marchinkowski! RRRARRRRR!!!
Nice kitty. I was offered R10,000 per pulled whisker.
Buffalo checking us out.
Elephants moving the buffalo.
The matriarch of the herd moving us... quickly. Sasch: Joe, they're still coming, they're speeding up! Steven: It's just momentum down the hill. Sascha: That's what I'm afraid of!
Ears up = aggression
Three kitties, with Sascha to provide a little perspective on how close this was.
Elephants eat a lot, as much as 23 hours a day, so they value nap time in a way 3 year olds should.
L to R: Steven, Chris, George/Leah, Sascha/Zoey, Steven in front of our flashy ride for our sundowner (that's where we stop and have a beer in the middle of our evening drive- in an open area so as not to invite unexpected animal friends)
Our hippos carving out a space at the watering hole in the midst of a buffalo incursion.
Ranger Joe swears the flash doesn't bother them... he was ornery later, but seemed okay at the time. Perhaps his mood was caused by something else!
Steven (not me) trying to feed the hornbill some Doritos.
White Rhinos, including the one who wanted to make sure we knew they had the right-of-way.
This fellow made it inside our gated off area and just nibbled at the plants. He ate out of Chris's hand at one point.
This cutie decided to threaten our vehicle, so Ranger Joe clapped at him and he backed off.
Momma didn't so much like Joe's clapping, so we hurried backwards, emphatically.
The accommodations included this giant house, overlooking a watering hole.
At night we lounged in these chairs around a fire and had deep theological conversation with our supervisors. It was too chilly to get in the pool.
Our watering hole and resident hippos: one bull, two cows, two calves. We have much to learn from nature.
The wildest of all animals! Leah Marchinkowski! RRRARRRRR!!!
Nice kitty. I was offered R10,000 per pulled whisker.
Buffalo checking us out.
Elephants moving the buffalo.
The matriarch of the herd moving us... quickly. Sasch: Joe, they're still coming, they're speeding up! Steven: It's just momentum down the hill. Sascha: That's what I'm afraid of!
Ears up = aggression
Three kitties, with Sascha to provide a little perspective on how close this was.
Elephants eat a lot, as much as 23 hours a day, so they value nap time in a way 3 year olds should.
L to R: Steven, Chris, George/Leah, Sascha/Zoey, Steven in front of our flashy ride for our sundowner (that's where we stop and have a beer in the middle of our evening drive- in an open area so as not to invite unexpected animal friends)
Our hippos carving out a space at the watering hole in the midst of a buffalo incursion.
Ranger Joe swears the flash doesn't bother them... he was ornery later, but seemed okay at the time. Perhaps his mood was caused by something else!
Steven (not me) trying to feed the hornbill some Doritos.
White Rhinos, including the one who wanted to make sure we knew they had the right-of-way.
Voertrekker Monument
A few odes to Boer Nationalism, all from Pretoria- the Judiciary Capital of South Africa.
This man works naked. That's how hardcore the Boers were when they moved North to get away from the Brits, who promptly sailed around the coast to beat the Boers to the other side...
Oxen were so important to the Boer movement that they grace the shrine's entrance, protecting it from non-farmers everywhere.
Seriously, look up Trajan's column for comparison, though this frieze dates to 1938 rather than 2 millennia ago.
Rob, my wonderful host, in front of the Romans vs. Barbarians (err... Boers vs. Africans)
The wagons are circled around this monument to nationalism... literally...
You have to go to the ancient Mediterranean (or Washington D.C.) to see such outright patriotism, though this is from the same nationalism that brought you such legislation as... Apartheid. It is a cross between a cathedral and a mason lodge. It is absolutely magnificent, but if it causes an internal conflict in me, I cannot imagine what it means to various South Africans.
This man works naked. That's how hardcore the Boers were when they moved North to get away from the Brits, who promptly sailed around the coast to beat the Boers to the other side...
Oxen were so important to the Boer movement that they grace the shrine's entrance, protecting it from non-farmers everywhere.
Seriously, look up Trajan's column for comparison, though this frieze dates to 1938 rather than 2 millennia ago.
Rob, my wonderful host, in front of the Romans vs. Barbarians (err... Boers vs. Africans)
The wagons are circled around this monument to nationalism... literally...
You have to go to the ancient Mediterranean (or Washington D.C.) to see such outright patriotism, though this is from the same nationalism that brought you such legislation as... Apartheid. It is a cross between a cathedral and a mason lodge. It is absolutely magnificent, but if it causes an internal conflict in me, I cannot imagine what it means to various South Africans.
30 July 2008
And so I repeat my first blog of this day, I’m not the world’s best blogger. I thank those of you who are sticking with the blog, or at least checking out the pictures! My time and my locations of late have not been as conducive to blogging as the first month of my stay: every possible experience that can be thought of is now being crammed into my waning weeks. That said, I hope I have provided an executive summary of the last two and a half weeks.
I added a few pictures to rugby, and made many new posts that may not show up on the newest page.
Finally, I'd like to know why a church has to post such a sign. I agree with the attitude that can be heard at http://vidego-http.multicastmedia.com/fpcsat/mp3/06-0709.mp3
It's Shannon Pappas, preaching "Leprosy Today: Part 1" where he suggests that HIV/AIDS is today's leprosy, if we really need a direct parallel to teach us how to treat our neighbors.
I added a few pictures to rugby, and made many new posts that may not show up on the newest page.
Finally, I'd like to know why a church has to post such a sign. I agree with the attitude that can be heard at http://vidego-http.multicastmedia.com/fpcsat/mp3/06-0709.mp3
It's Shannon Pappas, preaching "Leprosy Today: Part 1" where he suggests that HIV/AIDS is today's leprosy, if we really need a direct parallel to teach us how to treat our neighbors.
Parliament
Through a member of Meredith’s church we toured Parliament. Unfortunately, Meredith was getting her leg put in a cast for an unfortunate injury, but Chris, Tony (Meredith’s supervisor), and I joined the member of church and two German young ladies for the tour.
Each stop was fascinating, and the tour guide was quite knowledgeable. He is standing next to the seat where Voerword sat during Parliamentary sessions, and where he was killed by a government employee delivering a parcel to him. He was not the first head of state during Apartheid, but it nicknamed the crocodile for his role in the planning and his vicious execution of all things Apartheid.
I couldn't resist pointing out the British influence: unicorns. True, the Parliament itself is very British, but this unicorn is undoubtedly the most significant contribution.
Here is the current National Parliament (the original is used for party meetings and events like the Youth Conference). The downstage center seat, similar to where the President addresses Congress in the U.S., is where F.W. de Klerk announced the end of Apartheid, repealed the ban of political parties, and pardoned Nelson Mandela. It is where Nelson Mandela served as the first democratically elected President of the new South Africa, and where Thabo Mbeki has, with assistance from his party, made a blunder of politics for the last two terms.
Each stop was fascinating, and the tour guide was quite knowledgeable. He is standing next to the seat where Voerword sat during Parliamentary sessions, and where he was killed by a government employee delivering a parcel to him. He was not the first head of state during Apartheid, but it nicknamed the crocodile for his role in the planning and his vicious execution of all things Apartheid.
I couldn't resist pointing out the British influence: unicorns. True, the Parliament itself is very British, but this unicorn is undoubtedly the most significant contribution.
Here is the current National Parliament (the original is used for party meetings and events like the Youth Conference). The downstage center seat, similar to where the President addresses Congress in the U.S., is where F.W. de Klerk announced the end of Apartheid, repealed the ban of political parties, and pardoned Nelson Mandela. It is where Nelson Mandela served as the first democratically elected President of the new South Africa, and where Thabo Mbeki has, with assistance from his party, made a blunder of politics for the last two terms.
Cape Point
After Robben Island we discovered that it is an hour’s drive to Cape Point, decided that we’d be pushing our time window, and hit the road! I led us through a loop of downtown and ended right back at the Waterfront before we were able to discern either of the two maps given to us at the Tourism Information Center. Honestly not so much my fault, but interesting!
Cape Point is stunning. I thought Cape Town itself was nice, but it doesn’t touch this national park!
After entering the park we stilled had several KM to drive to Cape Point. At the parking lot we found baboons hanging around. I’m smart enough to know that they aren’t warm and cuddly, but I didn’t realize that they were hostile enough to have two fulltime employees patrolling the parking lot with sticks to run them off. Then we saw the sign. Thankfully we had no food.
The three of us hiked to the lighthouse, where they have the lovely sign telling us how far we truly happen to be from home.
You should be able to sort out who’s who, but it’s Chris, Meredith and Steven in the picture.
We then hiked out to the farthest point the allow you to go. Here’s a shot of the lighthouse we were at for the sign and group photo: quite a ways up! It would make for some sweet rock climbing… boys?
“I’m flying Jack,” err… It was really windy, so naturally my inclination is to climb up where I can really feel the wind. I don’t recall too much of a drop-off on the other side… I've been known to overlook such realities before...
This is the Atlantic Ocean. Truthfully, it’s all Atlantic Ocean at Cape Point. It’s claim to fame it being one of if not the most southern point in Africa, though it isn’t where the Atlantic and Indian actually break. Still, seeing the rain clouds pouring in the distance over the ocean is lovely.
The baboons, it turns out, are dangerous, and are attracted by anything they might think is food (like anything in your hands). This fellow was on someone’s car. Let me pause to point out that there were only three cars left and the guards had gone home for the evening. Well, they cautiously climbed in and started the car when the baboon moved off. And he came jogging towards me. I stopped the laughter I was directing at those from the other car and started walking to the other side to put the car between the baboon and myself. My hands were full with two items I was moving to the trunk. Well, he followed me around the car and stopped about three feet away from me. I kicked my foot in his direction, hoping he might be a bit skittish. Well, instead of running away he hissed at me and showed his teeth. Again, not being entirely stupid, I know I cannot kick a baboon. They are strong and have longer canines than leopards. I cautiously walked around the car, and was promptly followed by this lumbering health risk. I put both items in one hand, bent down, picked up a rock and threw it at the baboon, assuming he would not have the dexterity and coordination to catch it and throw it back at me. My projectile had the desired effect and I quickly got in the car without touching the trunk, and drove to pick up my compatriots.
Cape Point is stunning. I thought Cape Town itself was nice, but it doesn’t touch this national park!
After entering the park we stilled had several KM to drive to Cape Point. At the parking lot we found baboons hanging around. I’m smart enough to know that they aren’t warm and cuddly, but I didn’t realize that they were hostile enough to have two fulltime employees patrolling the parking lot with sticks to run them off. Then we saw the sign. Thankfully we had no food.
The three of us hiked to the lighthouse, where they have the lovely sign telling us how far we truly happen to be from home.
You should be able to sort out who’s who, but it’s Chris, Meredith and Steven in the picture.
We then hiked out to the farthest point the allow you to go. Here’s a shot of the lighthouse we were at for the sign and group photo: quite a ways up! It would make for some sweet rock climbing… boys?
“I’m flying Jack,” err… It was really windy, so naturally my inclination is to climb up where I can really feel the wind. I don’t recall too much of a drop-off on the other side… I've been known to overlook such realities before...
This is the Atlantic Ocean. Truthfully, it’s all Atlantic Ocean at Cape Point. It’s claim to fame it being one of if not the most southern point in Africa, though it isn’t where the Atlantic and Indian actually break. Still, seeing the rain clouds pouring in the distance over the ocean is lovely.
The baboons, it turns out, are dangerous, and are attracted by anything they might think is food (like anything in your hands). This fellow was on someone’s car. Let me pause to point out that there were only three cars left and the guards had gone home for the evening. Well, they cautiously climbed in and started the car when the baboon moved off. And he came jogging towards me. I stopped the laughter I was directing at those from the other car and started walking to the other side to put the car between the baboon and myself. My hands were full with two items I was moving to the trunk. Well, he followed me around the car and stopped about three feet away from me. I kicked my foot in his direction, hoping he might be a bit skittish. Well, instead of running away he hissed at me and showed his teeth. Again, not being entirely stupid, I know I cannot kick a baboon. They are strong and have longer canines than leopards. I cautiously walked around the car, and was promptly followed by this lumbering health risk. I put both items in one hand, bent down, picked up a rock and threw it at the baboon, assuming he would not have the dexterity and coordination to catch it and throw it back at me. My projectile had the desired effect and I quickly got in the car without touching the trunk, and drove to pick up my compatriots.
Robben Island
Think Alcatraz meets politics. Robben Island (Robben means “seal,” named by the colonists who arrived and found seals all over the island) was initially a leper colony before becoming a prison. It was used as a political prison for people like Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, and Ahmed Kathara (among MANY others) during Apartheid. The inmates were completely isolated from the outside, save for letter and news stories which were culled by the guards of anything that might be political. It is joked that inmates were able to read SOME of the sports page after the censorship.
We left from the V&A Waterfront, which is touristy, yet stunning. The 9AM departure was a little early for my taste, until I was able to watch the sunrise. The Sun needed a little bit of help but South African ingenuity provided a crane to give it a little boost.
As we sat on the ferry, awaiting our very bumpy ride, we looked up and thought twice about sitting on the top deck. We managed to outrace the storm clouds, but also appreciated the beauty of these dark clouds cresting the cliffs right behind us.
You can look very closely, and see through the haze, Table Mountain.
A bus took a group around the Island with a tour guide describing to us the areas we passed. This is the famous lime pit where Mandela and other political prisoners were forced to mine for 14 years. If you read his book you find that the work was hard and they were pushed initially, but it got to the point where they just arrived and chatted amongst each other without doing much work. No one off the Island would have noticed because the lime was only used on the roads of the Island, which is 4KM long and 2KM wide. You can only have so many roads.
The actual prison tour was led by a former inmate. That was an education in itself. His language was striking, referring to his comrades, the education involved in joining the ANC’s military wing, and the community found in the prison. Even in jail the blacks were treated worse than the Indians and “others” (there were no whites on Robben Island), as displayed by the menu and the uniforms: blacks wore shorts and short sleeved shirts, Indians wore slacks and long sleeved shirts (year round); blacks received less meat, sugar and bread.
The tour ended with a walk by the cell Nelson Mandela spent most of his three decades of imprisonment in. Some people found it moving. Having read his book, it didn’t seem like he let the cell imprison him. From this space he learned law by correspondence, he wrote letters to his family, he composed messages for outsiders, he built relationships with his prison guards, and he led his fellow prisoners. The space is a sign of Apartheid, but not of Mandela.
We left from the V&A Waterfront, which is touristy, yet stunning. The 9AM departure was a little early for my taste, until I was able to watch the sunrise. The Sun needed a little bit of help but South African ingenuity provided a crane to give it a little boost.
As we sat on the ferry, awaiting our very bumpy ride, we looked up and thought twice about sitting on the top deck. We managed to outrace the storm clouds, but also appreciated the beauty of these dark clouds cresting the cliffs right behind us.
You can look very closely, and see through the haze, Table Mountain.
A bus took a group around the Island with a tour guide describing to us the areas we passed. This is the famous lime pit where Mandela and other political prisoners were forced to mine for 14 years. If you read his book you find that the work was hard and they were pushed initially, but it got to the point where they just arrived and chatted amongst each other without doing much work. No one off the Island would have noticed because the lime was only used on the roads of the Island, which is 4KM long and 2KM wide. You can only have so many roads.
The actual prison tour was led by a former inmate. That was an education in itself. His language was striking, referring to his comrades, the education involved in joining the ANC’s military wing, and the community found in the prison. Even in jail the blacks were treated worse than the Indians and “others” (there were no whites on Robben Island), as displayed by the menu and the uniforms: blacks wore shorts and short sleeved shirts, Indians wore slacks and long sleeved shirts (year round); blacks received less meat, sugar and bread.
The tour ended with a walk by the cell Nelson Mandela spent most of his three decades of imprisonment in. Some people found it moving. Having read his book, it didn’t seem like he let the cell imprison him. From this space he learned law by correspondence, he wrote letters to his family, he composed messages for outsiders, he built relationships with his prison guards, and he led his fellow prisoners. The space is a sign of Apartheid, but not of Mandela.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)