A Guitar

The boys I meet in B5 take pleasure in simple things.

I'm not talking about life coach philosophy here. They are not “downsizing” their lives – rather, the things I would consider “simple” and beneath my enjoyment are often luxuries for them.

Consider this example. One of the most surprising things about working in B5 has been watching the boys color. Yes, color, as in using crayons or markers to fill in picture sheets with Bible verses on them. The kind of activity you would normally use with kids no older than 7. Don't get me wrong and think that this is a reflection on their mental capabilities. These boys are smart despite the fact that many have had little or no formal education. The key word here is opportunities. Coloring sheets might not seem like much of a creative outlet to most people, but in an environment so devoid of creativity in every area we take for granted (décor, clothing, food, hobbies, even time management), any opportunity is a good one.

This tendency plays out in another area of my involvement in B5: music. When I was making plans to come to Cape Town, I realized right away that I could not bring any of my instruments without paying a small fortune in either extra baggage fees or shipping, and another small fortune in insurance against potential damages for either of those two options! I decided to wait until I arrived and see if I could borrow or rent an instrument instead. I have managed to get a violin so far that should serve me well, and just today a fellow prison volunteer brought in a guitar I can use.

I don't think this guitar will “serve me well”. For starters, it's missing a string! That can be remedied, of course, but what can't change is that it's a classical guitar -- very different from what I normally play (wider and thicker neck, nylon strings, etc.). It's something for now, but I'm definitely going to look for something else.

The boys love it, though. To them, it just makes music – something they don't experience very often. I can also let them hold it and play it without worrying about damage! Having someone care enough to bring an instrument into prison and play for them means so much, whether it has the proper number of strings or not. If I find a better guitar in the coming weeks, will they even notice the difference?

Anniversary Part One

Today we celebrated one year of marriage!

But wait, some of you will say.  Haven't you been married three years?  Right you are.  But after some discussion of how to mark the day, we decided to have a little more fun than usual.  Instead of just doing one special event, why not have one activity or gift for each year we're celebrating?  This could get increasingly difficult and expensive as the years progress, so some gifts will be very small, but we like the idea of continuing the celebration beyond the actual anniversary day.

Today's event was a small one – walking to a nearby restaurant for breakfast.  We saw some beautiful flowers along the way (can you believe these grow wild here?), and a less beautiful but equally compelling pile of discarded, melted rubber tubes (Andrew loves taking pictures of strange textures). 

The meal was good.  The “Shrek Juice” (vegetable smoothie) was not, but it had to be attempted.

Table Mountain

We have settled into a nice routine of hiking once a week here, and we are loving it.  We have both moderately enjoyed hiking in the past but never pursued it regularly enough to get into good shape with it.  Now that one of the most beautiful mountains in the world is in our backyard and we have pretty relaxed schedules, there's no excuse!

Our first trip up Table Mountain was with Trevor, the Rotary coordinator for Ambassadorial Scholarships.  He was an excellent guide, taking us up some rock pitches off the normal trail that gave the hike a bit more challenge.  We felt proud when we came across this sign pointing down the trail we had just climbed!

 

Enjoy the views...

Made in Vertmont

We are going through serious withdrawal from an addiction. 

 

The first stage was denial.  We avoided certain recipes and experimented with local cuisine.  The second stage was temptation.  We would wander the foreign grocery stores in search of our drug of choice.  We even stooped so low as to finger cheap forgeries, before finally turning away in disgust.  Of course I am talking about Maple Syrup.  Not syrup... or Golden syrup as it is called here, but pure, beautiful, flavorful, MAPLE syrup.  That sweet nectar of Vermont... 

 

When the pain became to great to bear, we took up weapons and money and set out into the wilds of Africa like a junkie in search of a fix.  This was the sad result:

I think the concept of “Vertmont” could be useful for my friends in the frozen northeast.  Kind of an alternative state of reality which bears a rough resemblance to the State they know and love, but is at the same time horribly wrong!

 

In this case, “Vertmont” maple syrup was as disappointing as could possibly be expected.  Canada is clearly shipping their “sloppy seconds” to parts of the world that don't know better.  The stuff was bland—extremely bland.  Then, it was watery and thin.  All in all, it was closer to mildly sweet, brown water than the delectable syrup that true Vermonters (and their transplanted cousins) know and love.  All this was even more frustrating because it was just close enough to the real thing that we remembered what we were missing. 

 

All in all our addiction remains unsatisfied.  When detox hits me in a couple of days, look for me in the forest gnawing on random trees that look like maples!

A Men's Retreat?

It's kind of exciting to start attending a brand new church and not know anybody.  It is the same adrenalin of starting at a new school, but with none of the insecurities and zits of being young.  Anne and I have been attending two churches, but we haven't necessarily made a strong connection yet.  We were so blessed in Vermont with a church that was really more of a family, that we have been missing those relationships. 

 (<---A Prayer Hut)

The problem is that I have been spoiled by a small church!  In Memorial Baptist, at least half of the families had been involved in the church for generations, so when a new “Flatlander” showed up (it is just as impossible for me to be considered a true “Vermonter” as a South African!) everybody noticed you and went out of their way to make you feel literally at home.  We love our new churches in Cape Town, but there are no sweet old couples bribing me with home-made cookies! 

It is easy to think about church with a false consumer mentality.  I know there have been times when I have wandered between churches like some kind of a shopping mall, and I don't want to wind up there again.  As a result, we have stopped waiting for someone to notice us and started getting involved!  Anne will have a few stories along these lines herself, but for me a big turning point was the Men's Retreat. 

 

Now when I signed up, I thought I had a fair idea of what I was in for.  In college, the Christian Fellowship would sponsor a men's retreat that involved driving my 4X4 Jeep through a stream to a tiny cabin with no running water or electricity.  There was much grunting, BBQ, and even a few naked runs down into the freezing pond.  All for Jesus...?  Seriously though, these retreats served as an excellent escape for a group of young bucks who felt dually confined by a pretentious academic postmodernism and a social life that revolved around drinking and cheap sex.  There had to be something more to fellowship in college, so we made it ourselves. 

 

It turns out that I had no idea what I was in for.  These South African guys know how to hold a retreat in style!  For starters, about sixty men took over an incredible farm in the middle of a perfect countryside.  This was no log cabin! 

There was still the necessary outdoor component (I have included some pictures from our hiking) and I was even dragged into a rugby game that definitely fulfilled the quota for grunting.  However, this was some group of civilized dudes.  I think the food is where I started to notice a difference.  An old Swiss guy had been selected as the kitchen-czar, and he ruled over the menu with an iron fist.  Speaking as the grill-master of my old college retreats, I was put to shame!  This guy not only produced genuine gourmet fare, he mobilized a clumsy group of investment bankers, teachers, and lawyers who had probably not cooked anything that didn't involve a microwave for the past decade.  By the end of the weekend, they were begging him to keep their involvement a secret, or their wives would suddenly have great expectations around the house!

 

Sure, there was quality teaching that was both intellectually stimulating and emotionally challenging, but the napkins folded into three dimensional shapes really took me by surprise!!

 

To be serious, I must say that I will never again allow my life to be too busy that I cannot spend some time alone outdoors.  Once a day we trekked with our journals up into the hills for a time of reflection and prayer.  I brought my camera on a few of these outings, and here are some of the pictures.  My prayers may be private, but it all just seemed so natural in a place of such beauty.  

Joseph in Prison

The Bible is a book with unique cultural relevance.  As I step into the bizarre world of a South African prison, I realize that the inmates I am going to visit have more in common with the harsh realities of the Old Testament than my middle-class white America.

 

Today was my second time going into the B5 Youth Centre at Pollsmoor while Andrew attended follow-up sessions for the Restorative Justice course in the men's prison.  The program I have been working with is a Bible study/life skills class taught by a fellow volunteer named Hillary.  Hillary's husband was involved in the Restorative Justice course that Andrew joined a few weeks ago, and we have become close friends. 

 

Stories are the best teacher, which is why the “life skills” component flows so naturally from the Bible stories.  Andrew would call it "Narrative Curriculum," but for anybody who has ever tried to entertain twenty teenage boys, it's just plain survival!  What would be the point of studying the Bible for these boys if it didn't have a practical connection to their lives?  To make the connection even closer, Hillary has started a series on people in the Bible who were in prison.  First up is Joseph.

 

As you can no doubt imagine (and probably some of you know firsthand!), there are plenty of challenges associated with leading a Bible class of 20-25 teenage boys who do not share your native language.  Added to that, there is very little consistency in attendance from week to week – the class is voluntary, of course, but even more important, the boys are awaiting trial.  That means that although some are in B5 for very long periods of time, others could be gone the next day.  Every week Hillary introduces herself at the beginning of the class, and if there is a multi-part story, the whole thing must be retold from the beginning.

 

Fortunately, there could hardly be a better topic than Joseph.  The story is real to these boys in ways that it never has been for me.  For instance, I never considered the culpability of Jacob before.  The boys in my discussion group understood the consequences of jealousy among brothers, and they were adamant that fathers should not show favoritism.  They have seen those situations end in bloodshed.  They have a cultural background that connects with the Bible better than anything I have experienced.  The harshness of the world many of them have lived in comes to the fore when we discussed the role of Reuben in trying to save Joseph from the other brothers.  When asked if they had ever tried to help someone and failed, one boy told of seeing his friend stabbed and going to help but having him die in his arms. 

I don't feel like the teacher here.  I may have been involved in bringing an interesting story into the drudgery of prison life, but in many ways Joseph was already here.  Maybe part of what makes the Bible so valuable is that in its pages we find parallels to all the moral complexity and pain of our own lives.  For a group of young men who literally feel "trapped" by their own experiences, this is a gift that I have had the privilege to share.  

 

Lion's Head

 (Lion's Head from the bottom of the trail)                              (Wildflowers...it's spring here!)

One of our favorite things so far about living in Cape Town is the hiking.  Living right next to Table Mountain, there are tons of hikes within a very short drive, and the views of the city, the ocean, the other mountains, etc. are amazing.  After some relatively inactive years in Vermont, we had quite a bit of work to do getting back into shape once we got here, but the gym time has paid off.  We go hiking almost every week now.

Today's hike was up Lion's Head, which is a relatively short trail with only a few difficult parts.  The trail winds completely around the mountain, so we had beautiful views in every direction.  The section where we were walking right above the coastline was incredible. 

On the way down we met a very loud group of over 100 school kids struggling to the top.  They all asked despairingly how far it was to the top, and one commented “You do this as a hobby???”

We could still hear their shrieking conversations when we got back to our car at the bottom.

B5 (or Anne in Prison, Part II)

It took me a few days to process my experience in the Restorative Justice class, but almost before I knew it I was presented with another opportunity to visit Pollsmoor.  A friend from church whose husband was a facilitator for the RJ course in Medium B that Andrew joined does a program for boys in B5, the juvenile facility, every Thursday.  She asked if I would like to join her, and in spite of myself I agreed.

 

I shouldn't say “in spite of myself” because I did want to go...I just wasn't excited for it yet.  As I mentioned earlier when I went to the Restorative Justice class, I didn't feel any fear.  Still, the amount of unease, uncertainty and feeling unsure of yourself is practically unmatched in any other context! 

 

The staff and volunteers of Hope Prison Ministry meet for devotions and prayer each morning before dispersing to the offices or the different prisons.  Hope is a fairly large organization, about 300 volunteers, so pretty much any day of the week individuals or groups are going into the different facilities to lead Bible studies, teach life skills classes, do follow-up from previous RJ courses, meet for individual counseling with inmates, etc.  It is encouraging to look around and see how many others are making this work a priority, and to meet such humble, strong and faithful servants of God.

 

B5 looked and felt more like a prison to me than Medium B, but mostly because I walked through cell blocks and the prison yard on my way in rather than just hallways.  What was most surprising, though, was how young the boys were.  They range in age from about 14 to 19, and in some ways they have experienced far more in life than their counterparts in an American high school, but in other ways they seem even younger.  From what I have been told, there used to be a lot of tough kids in B5 who were already heavily involved in gangs, but at least the ones who came to our program were not hardened yet.  Their emotions were not too far below the surface, and they craved activity, attention and love.  I don't know yet if I will start coming to B5 regularly, but either way I know that I need God to give me more love for these boys, and others who are broken and outcast.

Hermanus

This weekend Humphrey and Sonia, our gracious hosts from the Rotary club here, invited us to their vacation home in Hermanus, a seaside town on the southern coast about an hour and a half's drive from Cape Town.  The water there is technically part of the Atlantic Ocean, but it behaves more like the Indian Ocean in terms of currents, waves, temperature, etc.  Spring is a good time for seeing whales there, and we saw several every time we looked out.  They were too far away for good pictures, unfortunately, but we got beautiful views of the beaches and coastline in both directions, some from on top of one of the mountains overlooking Hermanus.

 

On day two, we decided to hike one of these mountains.  We started by climbing a utility trail up to the contour path, but then couldn't find the trail to the top from there.  So with Andrew taking the lead, we just started going up.  A few of the scrambles were hairy, especially since we were climbing on loose rocks and shallow vegetation (some with thorns!) for part of the time.  We weren't able to find a safe climb all the way to the top, but it was a fun adventure and the views made it well worthwhile.

   

36 Hours With Hope

That was the headline from the story that was written about our Restorative Justice program.  The reporter was an observer all week, and she won an award for her portrayal.  I would give you a copy of her article except that it was in Afrikaans!  The experience was intense.  I had never been involved in anything quite like it.  I described the outline of the program in my last post, but here are a few reflections.  I really still need to process it all, but here is the beginning. 

 

The week was a powerful blend of heartbreak and hope.  On the one hand, it was disturbing to be sitting at a table with two rapists and a few armed robbers, but on the other it was encouraging that they were willing to speak openly about their guilt.  The few times when a man did make excuses for his crime, other prisoners were quick to hold him to account.  Nobody listens to prisoners, so even the fact that we were there became a humanizing influence.  We sat at tables with tablecloths and shared a meal together.  The men were open with their stories because they knew we respected them as individuals. 

 

The transition is definitely a slow one.  After we showed the prisoners some graphic pictures from a crime scene, there was a discussion about how all different kinds of crime can lead to great pain.  One man experienced a “break-through” when he realized it does not make sense to mutilate a body after you have killed it.  He was proud of himself!  Many prisoners have lived such a traumatizing life that they have lost the moral vocabulary to assess their actions.  The necessary psychological defenses they have built against the abuse in their own lives have led them to a very dark place.  While it is striking how much work remains to be done in prison, amazing transformation is possible.  We had several prisoners who realized that there would be no chance of healing unless they were honest about their crime to their families.  The “Family Reconciliation Service” we held on Saturday gave them a chance to do it!

 

I initially was on the course only as an observer, but as I built a rapport with the prisoners and the volunteers from Hope Prison Ministry, they made me a table facilitator.  The prisoners were fascinated with my studies, and I was quickly dubbed the “American Criminologist.”  I started something of a stir when I described a prisoner I had worked with in the States.  He had “back-slid” because of unconfessed sin in his life, and the gist of my story was that “what you keep, you also carry.”  I didn't think much of it at the time, but prisoners quickly began quoting it and arguing over it.  There is such an obsession with secret crime in this place, that I guess I hit a raw nerve.  They liked me enough that they asked me to run one of their follow-up sessions on forgiveness. 

 

Stay tuned for more thoughts on Restorative Justice!  

Family Day

From Anne:

 The final day of a Restorative Justice class is a reconciliation service between inmates and their families.  Facilitators for the class contact relatives with whom the men have indicated they need to reestablish a relationship, and these family members are invited to the prison to take part.  Andrew invited me to attend this meeting, and it sounded like a great opportunity to observe somewhat inconspicuously.

Today was actually my first time inside a prison.  I didn't know what to expect, so I was more or less ready for anything.  The first half hour or more was spent in various security measures – entering the front gate (and having the trunk of our car searched), going in one entrance, then being asked to use a different entrance, then going through a metal detector, etc.  It was all a bit chaotic because there were so many visitors – probably around 75 family members, all being allowed into the prison without prior security clearance and with minimal searching or scrutiny.  The degree of support this course has from the prison administration and staff is quite remarkable.  Most prisons would be very hesitant to allow an event like this, and certainly put off by the extra work all those visitors create for them.

 The program started with an introduction to the content of the Restorative Justice course aimed at relatives and visitors.  Then the men and their relatives came forward one by one and spoke.  Some talked to their relatives about past hurts.  Many apologized for not being able to help their families with time, money and emotional support. 

Two things surprised me.  The first was how many of the family members were so quick to forgive.  Several said that they had forgiven a long time ago, and that brought a very emotional response from the inmates.  Andrew mentioned that earlier in the week many of the men were feeling anxious, unsure if any family member would come for them.  In the end all but one did, and despite a whole range of difficult emotions at work in such an intense situation, no one that I could see left angry.

 

The second thing that surprised me was the importance of confession for these men.  During the service some of them admitted for the first time what they had actually done.  Lying seems a necessity when defending themselves in court, for holding onto the support of family, and even in shielding themselves from the reality of their actions.  Blaming other people or circumstances is also a way that they avoid facing their crimes.  The image of one young man sticks in my mind – he stood up and said, “I don't know why I did the things that I did.  But I can't point the finger at anyone but myself.”

 

Except for all the barbed wire, metal doors, guards, orange jumpsuits and tattoos, we could have been in any concrete-block church building.  Okay, so all those things are pretty different.  But one of the most surprising things for me during this visit was how “normal” it felt.  It was not an intense emotional experience, I didn't feel frightened at any point, and I was strangely detached from it in many ways.  I think this is because I have very little firsthand experience to contextualize what I saw.  I had never been in a prison before, I have not been a crime victim nor has anyone in my family or friend circle that I know, I have never faced the kind of choices these men have faced or even seen the kind of neighborhood they had to grow up in.  Yet as I reflect on the day, I am grateful for the opportunity to hear these stories and see a kind of reconciliation that is rarely to be found.  I hope and pray that the changes these men spoke of with such desire will become reality for them, their families, and their communities.

Restorative Justice: Andrew (finally) Goes to Prison

Restorative Justice is really another thing that makes studying prison rehabilitation unique in South Africa.  Other countries (like New Zealand and Canada) have implemented similar programs, but it is only in South Africa that restorative justice is part of the national identity.  Indulge me in a bit of history:  In the late nineties, the country was faced with the challenge of integrating hostile combatants into a new democratic government.  This willingness to step away from punitive retribution is what made Nelson Mandela's leadership so unique, and is definitely what saved South Africa from a horrible civil war.  On a philosophical level, restorative justice is the only option for the penal system where both the victim and the offender get a positive outcome.

 

As for its practical ramifications in prison, Hope Prison Ministry is currently running the most unique program of restorative justice I have ever seen.  I have worked in prisons for seven years, but I have not seen a program like this.  Basically Hope's version takes about fifty inmates through an intense, week-long session where they examine the victims of crime as a ripple effect—starting with their victim but ultimately radiating out to their own families and even themselves.  Through small group discussions and presentations by victims and ex-offenders, the men learn a new moral vocabulary for thinking about their lives.  There is follow-up for an additional six months including counseling every Monday and a group session every Thursday.

 

Restorative Justice includes the vital element that is missing from almost every rehabilitation program I have seen—community involvement.  Throughout the week, there are phone calls (on speaker phone) where the inmates can hear their family members describe just how painful it is to have them locked behind bars.  For many of the men who have had limited contact with their families, this is an intense and revealing experience.  The culmination of the week involves a similar experience.  The men identify a family member whom they have harmed in some way, and invite them to a service on Saturday where they can publicly apologize.  I have never heard of a program that involves the families of prisoners in such a purposeful way.

 

I found out about this course in a surprising way.  I am obviously living in Cape Town at the moment, but all of my contacts in prison are more than an hour away (through deadly South African traffic).  I knew there was a huge prison in Cape Town, but it is difficult to arrange for security without knowing somebody working inside.  All this changed when I visited Christ Church in Kenilworth.  I believe there is only one person in the entire church who works in prison, but I just happened to be connected to her within ten minutes of walking through the door.  As it turns out, they were starting a Restorative Justice course the next day, and they were able to get security clearance.  “Coincidences,”  maybe not...

 

Need a Summer Internship?

If your interests are in any of the following:

 

Social Work, Criminology

Law, Orphans, Adventure

Travel, Counseling

Psychology, Ministry

Education, Sociology

 

Look no further!  Here in South Africa, we have the honor of working with two excellent organizations.  This is definitely a shameless plug, but mostly we just want to describe some of the people we work with. 

 

First, the Andrew Murray Centre:  This organization is based out of an old missionary training school that Andrew Murray (a hard-core Scottish theologian) built in the 1800's.  The goal was to provide housing and education for students who would not be able to accompany their parents on dangerous missions north into Africa.  David Bliss purchased the center for his base of operations, but maintained its focus on South Africa's youth.  The Andrew Murray Centre takes a residential approach to prison ministry, and many of the team members have lived in the building over the years.  Recently he has begun a leadership training program for orphans coming out of prison.  In all seriousness, this is why I am currently in South Africa.  I spent a summer working for these guys in 2003, and at the time it was both the most exciting and meaningful thing I had done.  Needless to say, I was scheming about how to return to South Africa ever since, which leads me to:

 

Hope Prison Ministry:  The AMC is involved in about ten different prisons, but they are all far away from Cape Town.  Pollsmoor Prison is really six different prisons in one, and Hope Prison Ministry is turning it upside-down!  They have an incredible variety of services ranging from meeting with juveniles who have just been incarcerated to running counseling sessions in maximum security.  I have recently become involved in their restorative justice program, and this has transformed the way I think about working with prisoners. 

 

Through this blog, as we describe our experiences, I hope you get a brief taste of two organizations that are special to us.  In all seriousness, there would be opportunities if you ever wanted to spend a summer working with prisoners and parolees.  Getting here will be expensive, but room and board will practically be free!  It's dangerous though...  That is what I did in 2003, and the next thing you know you will have returned for a longer stint!

One to One

Today was a genuinely unique experience, and it has challenged the way I think about community service. 

The Roggebai Rotary Club that sponsors me joined together with a number of community service clubs and civic groups to sponsor an event for local residents struggling with various mental and physical handicaps.  The event is called “One to One,” because each person with a handicap is accompanied by a sponsor.  Basically, they take over Cape Town’s second largest convention center and set up a giant fair—with each organization creating their own booth or sideshow. 

 

The Roggebai Club had a booth featuring a rather simple game—but it included enough shining lights and loud noises to be fun.  The gist was that a metal ring had to be guided along a curved wire without touching.   Touching the ring to the wire would complete a circuit, resulting in lights and loud buzzing.  Some people had the necessary motor skills, while others just enjoyed making noise!  Everybody got a prize when they were done, and then it was off to the next booth.

 

This event was striking for two reasons:

 

§  First, so many charities are simply focused on dispensing money that they forget about the lived experience of the people they are trying to help.  It’s obviously important to think about food and shelter, but there can be an impersonal condescension in these efforts.  Being human is about more than having a full belly.  “One to One” may not have addressed institutionalized poverty or the greater trends of social justice, but a bunch of marginalized people were able to feel special. 

 

 §  Second, we tend to equate efficiency with moral value in our community service.  The best charities are the ones with the most fluid turnover in dollars and the slickest websites.  Love does not necessarily have anything to do with efficiency.  I was impressed that “One to One” was such an extravagant event that had nothing to do with institutional poverty whatsoever.  This is obviously not a long-term strategy for community development, but if charities cannot keep this more personal perspective in mind, their efforts will be hollow and condescending.  

Speak Truth to Power

Most of our time at U.C.T. so far has been spent in class or wading through bureaucratic quagmires.  Today we got to experience one of the advantages of being part of an academic community – a round-table discussion of human rights issues in Africa featuring one of our personal heroes, Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

 

Archbishop Tutu was really the reason we attended, but some of the other speakers were quite striking as well.  We were not familiar with any of them, but they are some of the most prominent figures in struggles against oppression all across the continent.  Here are brief introductions, with links if you are interested in more details.

Guillaume Ngefa documented and reported on human rights abuses in the Democratic Republic of the Congo under several leaders, and was treated brutally for his work.  He is currently in exile and continues to speak out on the situation in his home country.

Freedom Neruda was a leading journalist in the Ivory Coast who was attacked and jailed several times for writing in opposition to several governments.

Koigi Wa Wamwere has been a political activist in Kenya for over 30 years.  During that time he has been a political prisoner at least five times, often being held without charge for long periods, and was even kidnapped by Kenyan forces who crossed the border into Uganda to get him.

Samuel Kofi Woods founded the Catholic Peace and Justice Commission in Liberia, an organization that reported on human rights abuses during the country's civil war.  His investigative work, in the face of government threat, led to the release of several political prisoners who were being held without charge.

Denis Goldberg was an anti-apartheid activist in South Africa.  A white leader in the largely black ANC, he was a political prisoner for 22 years and then exiled for about 10 as a result of his work.

 

The final speaker was Kerry Kennedy, daughter of Robert F. Kennedy (who visited South Africa in 1966 and spoke out against the apartheid regime of the day).  Ms. Kennedy recently completed a book called Speak Truth to Power, profiling individuals who have paid a high price to defend human rights around the world. 

 

This forum was especially meaningful to us because we don't always feel like we're in Africa.   Part of the reason for this is that Cape Town is so developed, relatively wealthy in many areas (including where we live), and has strong European influence of many kinds (British, Dutch, French, German).  Events like this are a good reminder of what goes on around us.  Political situations are shaky in many places, including here to some extent.  The ruling party in South Africa, the ANC, is experiencing an ethnic split between those who back the current president (Thabo Mbeki, a Xhosa) and the new ANC president poised to replace him (Jacob Zuma, a Zulu).  There is also a controversy involving the ANC's decision to disband a special corruption investigation unit known informally as the Scorpions.  At the end of the forum, Kerry Kennedy made a simple but profound statement: if Western governments do not voice their disapproval, it will be assumed that they are okay with a situation.  Putting aside any discussion of intervention, failure to speak  is complicity with the oppressors.  

Around Cape Town

Today we joined some friends from the Andrew Murray Centre for a touristy day in Cape Town.  Two American students who had been working at the AMC for a few weeks are about to leave, and they had some last-minute shopping and sight-seeing to do.  You know... buy all the carved wooden elephants that no self-respecting African would buy, but that is expected whenever you return to the States?  It was a great opportunity to learn our way around the city, spend time with our friends from the AMC, and take a lot of pictures!  Again, feel free to add captions in the comments.

Albert Luthuli, Desmond Tutu, FW De Klerk, Nelson Mandela...and Franklin

(Follow the links on each name for the Wikipedia article...all Nobel Peace Prize winners for their work in the struggle against apartheid.)

Just for you, Ben Wiechmann.

An award-winning statue.  Please help us figure out what it means!

A bridge to nowhere that should eventually connect the major highways to the World Cup stadium, bypassing the downtown area.

Wooden "fire extinguisher" mounted on a tree, encouraging us to help stop forest fires.  

Franklin does tricks on an "X-treme Racer" we found by the side of the road.

Anne and Ashley practice their "karate kid" moves.

Andrew likes to climb on rocks.

Andrew likes being artsy with the camera while Anne poses contemplatively.

Sometimes a gray day is more beautiful than a blue sky.

It was a great day, although I (Anne) noticed a few times that I feel like a tourist.  I know in my head that we are settling in for a while, and the last few weeks have been quite busy with activities related to that -- finding a flat, buying furnishings and a car, setting up bank accounts and phones, etc.  We have not spent much time doing touristy things.  Still, I don't yet feel like I live here.  Each day is different from the last, so I don't have a sense of a daily-life routine.  This is not a complaint, though, just an observation.  I love having new things to do and large amounts of time to spend doing them.  I also love learning my way around a new place geographically.  After today, we should be decent tour guides when some of you come to visit!

Photo Essay: Andrew Plants a Cactus

Today we visited Kirstenbosch Gardens, a beautiful botanical reserve nearby.  In addition to enjoying the flora there, we wandered the nursery looking for plants to adorn our new home.  Andrew found a cactus that spoke to him, brought it home and potted it on our balcony.  Here is the story in pictures...leave comments on this post suggesting new captions!

1. I hope this bag of sand doesn't spill everywhere when I get it open...

2. I can't believe they made me buy a special bag of sand for 17 rand...

3. Don't stab myself...don't stab myself...

4. Hmm, won't quite fit...

5. Too much dirt...errr...special sand that is DEFINITELY not worth 17 rand...

6. Whew, that was hard work.

7.  Oh, I guess you want some too.

Camps Bay

Today we bought a fridge, a simple enough appliance that quickly grows in importance the longer one goes without it.  We certainly enjoyed our take-out meals in the meantime, but our budget did not!  We were fortunate to find a second-hand fridge through a website called Gumtree (same place we found our flat – South Africa's version of Craig's List) that was reasonably priced, exactly the right dimensions, and had no offensive smells or stains.  The seller even offered to deliver it for us so we didn't have to borrow a “bakkie” (pick-up). 

 

Later in the day we went to look at a couch (which we didn't buy – too big to fit through our narrow door) and ended up in Camps Bay, a beautiful town enclosed by the Atlantic Ocean and Table Mountain.  If you look at the banner picture at the top of the blog, it's the strip of beach on the far right.  With its beach, palm trees and strip of hotels and restaurants across the street, it could be a seaside resort almost anywhere in the world.  The views of Table Mountain, however, make it distinctively Capetonian.

 

Other than people like us climbing on rocks and taking pictures, the beach was fairly empty.  Despite the mild temperatures here, it is technically winter and therefore too cool for sunbathing.  The water is much too cold for swimming at almost any time of year (we are told that it is actually colder during the summer because of winds and currents).  Today, though, we encountered a creative solution to this encumbrance – a man and small child inside a large, inflatable, clear plastic bubble.  

They would walk/roll in it like a hamster in a plastic ball (or American Gladiators in Atlasphere – anyone else remember?), protected from the cold and wet.  The waves were pretty strong, though, so they never got very far into the water without being knocked over, to the great amusement of all us lookers-on.