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February 15, 2004, A Newcomer’s Perspective, by Tim
Before coming to South Africa I had not yet left North America. I met Jim and Chris Newton in June of 2003 and had the opportunity to learn, through them, about Edzimkulu, the situation in South Africa, and the opportunity to help.
I've been at the Edzimkulu residence near Underberg for two weeks now and thought I would share with you my perspective of the place, the people and the purpose of our work.
In the past, my mental image of South Africa was based mostly on wildlife photos found on travel brochures and on stories described in the one book I've read about the country, Nelson Mandela's autobiography "The Long Walk To Freedom." I've yet to see a cougar or an elephant, but I've seen some of the most spectacular scenery ever. In fact, each day I awake to the sound of a flowing river and a valley view that we typically see only on postcards.
South Africa, and this region in particular, is breathtaking and while a picture is worth a thousand words, I'm afraid there's no substitute for being here to treat your senses to the lush and vibrant sights, sounds and scents of this beautiful country.
I arrived in South Africa at Johannesburg and stayed two nights at a bed and breakfast before taking a Greyhound bus to Pietermaritzburg, and then Jim's taxi to the Edzimkulu residence. I took the chance to see a bit of Johannesburg and Soweto, the South Western Township, where many blacks were forced to live during apartheid. I saw the rich, the poor, the middle class, a squatter village, a posh private school, a cricket game, the current residence of Nelson Mandela, and the vibrant black population and desolate business presence of the (somewhat dangerous) downtown of Johannesburg, all spread throughout a contrast of vast valleys and plateaus in a land where cellular phone towers are disguised as palm trees.
The drive from Underberg (a town roughly 5 km from the Edzimkulu residence) to Ndawana, the village where our work is focused, takes roughly 45 minutes on reasonable roads. The dirt road leading from the highway enters a valley that presents a spectacular view of the Drakensberg mountain range. People are friendly here and they're very appreciative of any gesture of kindness, especially if it means less distance on foot. The drive most always involves several stops to pick up kids and/or adults on foot heading the same direction.
When approaching Ndawana, you quickly gain a sense of the vastness of the village as it spans at least 8 kilometers through the valley. The village population is roughly 5,000.
The dwellings are not in close proximity to each other and instead, the village appears more like randomly scattered acreages with no real road system other than the main dirt road that snakes through the core. Many of the dwellings are made from mud and thatch. There's no power, no telephone, no water (other than that provided by a nearby spring), and no sewage. The people are poor and some speculate that 50% are HIV+. The unemployment rate is estimated to be 80%.
A core philosophy of Edzimkulu is to empower the people to help themselves. In this spirit, early on Jim and Chris established a planning team that, along with Edzimkulu staff, includes four young men and women of the village: Khali, Zanele, Busisiwe and Phelelani. They are passionately enthusiastic and they bring an understanding of the village and its culture that is essential to help plan and coordinate our work. We meet with them regularly.
While not as often, meetings with the chief are becoming routine and we're grateful to be receiving much support from this seemingly very wise man. A meeting with the chief takes place at the chief's house. The meetings are not formal, nor is the meeting place. No cultural rituals, tribal dress or dancing. No incense to keep bad spirits away. Instead, we meet on the front porch of the chief's house sitting in the shade on a long wooden bench among grazing cattle and the odd chicken. Translation is provided by one of the youth since the chief does not speak English.
Meetings always begin and end with the traditional Zulu handshake and, while informal, there is always intense respect for each person and the matters being discussed. I am reminded of stories in Nelson Mandela's autobiography that describe the traditional meeting where everyone is given the chance to speak regardless of gender or status. And when the chief speaks, much is said with very few words.
The chief's home is located about a ten-minute walk from a nearby school where a dispute is currently brewing. One day following a meeting with the chief we noticed a procession of women walking from the school to the chief's house, many of them with umbrellas to shade the sun. They were bringing their concerns to the chief. They claim the principal is unfairly staffing more teachers than necessary while another school in a distant area of the village struggles to meet the demands with fewer teachers. As a result, many children must walk long distances to school. The protest was civil yet stern with much vocal activity.
Apparently the principal has been transferred from three other schools before ending up in Ndawana. And while at one school, he was treated to the "necklacing" ritual. This is where a tire is filled with gasoline, placed around the person's neck, then lit on fire. Ouch! He managed to escape yet he still exhibits unfair practices. I'm happy to say that the people of Ndawana believe in more civil and less heated forms of protest.
Before arriving here, I wondered most (and with hope) about the people in need, whether or not we could make a difference, and whether or not it was our place to even try. While I've been here now for only two weeks, my current sense about this is strong. Yes we can make a difference, and yes we should be here to help. But we are not here to simply help the people. We are here to help them help themselves. We are here to help restore their dignity and to empower them with confidence, enthusiasm and passion for their own wellbeing after decades of suppression under apartheid. And regardless of how selfless we may feel, perhaps it is us who will gain more than we give. At least that's been my experience so far.
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