by Linda Kurtz

October 13, 1998

I have known for two years now that I need to go to South Africa. I have not exactly understood why, but I knew that the reasons would become clear once I arrived. And today, I am finally here! The plane ride which I had been dreading so was not all that bad! I had an aisle seat so could get up and move around freely. We boarded, ate dinner, slept, ate breakfast, and got off the plane!

On the plane I sat next to a woman who nearly missed the flight because her plane was held up so Air Force One could bring the President to NYC for a fund raising event. She was pretty shook up but fun to chat with.

At the airport in Johannesburg, I met up with my roommate, Ali, and 2 other women from San Francisco, Uncheedah and Joileen, who are also traveling with Global Exchange. In Johannesburg we made it through customs with ease, met Bob Schminkey, our Global Exchange group leader, and came directly to the Gardens Protea Hotel. Bob said the Hotel is safe but not to walk outside. Our tour guide for Johannesburg, William Smith, gave us a talk on the current political and economic picture in South Africa (facts about violence and unemployment etc., as well as his personal view of the direction the country is taking). We met the other folks traveling with us (Ann and Tom from Colorado, and Melanie from San Francisco). Two of our group have already left for home because their father was killed in a car accident yesterday. Then we ate a buffet style dinner and its time for bed.

It doesn't really seem like I am in Africa somehow. I look out my hotel window and the lights of the city seem reminiscent of Austin, Texas! I am tired, though, and a busy day is planned for tomorrow. I doubt I'll get a good nights sleep, since in my body it is 3:30, but the clock says 9:30 p.m. so I'll call it a night and see what happens.

LATER - phoned mom: feel better!

October 14, 1998

At the end of my first day, I already realize, there is no way I am ever going to be able to tell anyone about this trip. I can tell people what I have done, but that will not tell the story. It is the feelings I am having that make up the essence of this adventure, and there are simply no words that can describe my feelings.

We toured Alexandra today, a city of 600,000 with three or more families living crowded together in every 'shack'. The poverty is incredible, and yet, the richness of spirit, and the enthusiasm for building a new nation, this is a wealth I have never seen before!

We went to the Alexandra Health Center where Willie Lakowane, their public relations officer, explained both the vision and the day to day operation of the clinic. We went to a primary school, in a part of town so dangerous that children are run over and killed every day on their way to school. And yet, the teachers were brimming with hopefulness about the future of these children. And the children, their faces so open, and their lilting voices joining in a chorus of 'hellos' : how they touched me!

We then visited a community radio station which is exploring the potential for locally operated stations to promote pride, self esteem, and knowledge of their own history ( as opposed to what has been taught in the schools under the apartheid system). Then, on to the South Africa Museum, where I was drawn to a display of Bushman's Rock Art. That magical feeling of being in the presence of human antiquity swirled all around and through me.

Dinner, then we went to the Market Theater Complex to see a young Director's Play called 'Under the Coca-la la'. The energy, the voices, and the power of the piece felt very familiar, even though I often did not understand the cultural references. Now, home again, to sleep at last. I am beyond exhausted. The aural and visual stimuli, the bombardment of different experiences, have warped my feeble brain. I pray for sleep. I fear she will elude me.

October 15, 1998

Finally! A good night's sleep! It makes all the difference in the world!

Today we met with POWA (People Against Women Abuse). The program is very similar to our domestic violence programs in the states, but the cultural obstacles they face in South Africa are much different. A prospective bridegroom negotiates a 'Labola' or bride's price for his wife. His elders barter with her elders, sometimes for months, on a satisfactory price. While originally the intention appears to have been to bring two families together as one, the effect on today's generations has been for the couple to consider the bride as 'property' of the groom. More educated (or as the women from POWA called themselves, 'empowered') women have been able to rise above the domination of men over their wives but the cultural norm is as all-powerful husband and his submissive wife. It is very hard for Americans to comprehend, I believe. Later, we asked our drivers (Terry and Darryl) about it and the discussion made them very uncomfortable. The relationship of men to women and the prospect of change was something they knew they needed to discuss with sensitivity, but I could feel how much they were tip-toeing around the subject matter. After we toured the shelter, which appears poorly funded and sparsely furnished, we went on to meet the social work counseling staff. My sprained ankle was throbbing from too much walking, so I stayed in the jeep and talked with Terry and Daryl. We talked about how apartheid and the ending of it has affected their lives; but their view was that while apartheid has legally ended, racism is alive and well! We talked about their taste in music (jazz), and we talked about their family life. I enjoyed this time as much as any of the formal meetings I have attended.

For dinner, we went to a traditional South African restaurant. A women's rights advocate named Spiwe Takura joined us, and we had an excellent exchange of information (she was also very interested in USA laws and policies) while eating delicious African dishes. I ate prawns in a peanut chile sauce and drank locally brewed beer. The conversation was relaxed and much laughter rang out throughout the meal. After dinner, a gorgeous thunder and lightening storm accompanied us home. What a spectacular display! The thunder and lightening is all around us. It will drum us to sleep.

October 16, 1998

What an incredible day! My energy is racing!!! We spent the day and night at Soweto which was the one place I had counted on wanting to be - and absolutely, I was right!

First, Soweto is nothing like I thought it would be. I knew there would be three million people, but honestly I expected a crowded town of shacks, and instead I found rows and rows of government built houses, very small but neatly kept. Certainly the town was poor, but proud, and although reported to be violent, I felt absolutely safe.

Each tiny home is occupied by 8-16 people. The government built these homes for black people to live in to be near their white employers in Johannesburg. We did drive by squatters camps which were very poor and without utilities or roads, but generally the village did not make you think of poverty. Lawns were well kept and homes appeared painted and clean.

We drove by the school where the children marched from on June 16, 1976 to protest being taught in Afrikaners language, and were then gunned down by police. We went to the Memorial where the first child (Hector) was shot, and there they have erected a memorial of tiny shacks where they have hung the photographs and news articles of that day and the months of violence to follow. It was surely my most intense moment, knowing on this spot the claws of apartheid began to lose their grip. The photographs told the world what was happening here, and the world began to respond.

We then went to the home of Nelson and Winnie Mandela, where they lived at the point he was arrested. It felt like I was on sacred ground, and the essence of history swirled again, around and through me. I touched the tree in their front lawn. Surely Mandela himself has touched this tree. It was a quiet moment. The breeze whispered a heedful song:

"Shhhh - listen to the past. It harmonizes with the future."

We ate dinner tonight at Wandi's Club. It is a tourist spot in Soweto! We ate tripe, and lamb, and fish. It is our last night with the Johannesburg drivers, Terry and Daryl. Terry ran into an old friend, Winston, who is thinking of starting up another restaurant to compete with Wandi's Club. I asked Terry to introduce me to Winston and told him I will return from New York to eat at his restaurant once it opens!

We are staying tonight at the Gold Reef Hotel and theme park. It was once a gold mine, and until recently the park was only open to whites. It was really cold and windy today, and when I awake in the morning I will leave Johannesburg. In spite of meeting so many Jo'Burg citizens, I feel lonely tonight. I am in my theme park motel room. But where are they? I feel painfully like a tourist.

October 17, 1998

How I loathe "goodbye". Surely there are no more homely words in the English language. I awoke early (4:45 a.m.) and packed and dressed to go to the airport. I went downstairs and walked outside (such freedom! We weren't able to step outside at the downtown Johannesburg hotel) and there came Terry walking down the path. I had written a thank you note to Terry so I gave it to him, realizing I would not see him again. Shortly Daryl came down the stairs and I gave him his note, asking him to open it after I left.

And then we were off! At the airport Daryl and Terry brought in our luggage and went to return the rental cars. I thought we would see them again to say a proper good bye but once separated I did not see them again. I may hate the language of "good bye", but even more I am torn by parting without speaking the words.

We flew to Umtata, a rural village on the East Cape. This is a village off the beaten tourist path, and not used to American visitors. The Reverend Cliff Leeuw and the Reverend Vusi Mdlalose from the Reformed Presbyterian Church of South Africa picked us up at the airport, and we headed directly for Ikhhwezi LoKusa which means 'Morningstar', a residential facility for disabled children run by Sister Mary Paul of the German Catholic Church. Three hundred physically and mentally disabled children live there, and Sister had assembled a group of 50 or so of the older children to sing for us. Ah, the music! The unique sound of the African voice, warm with harmony, rising into the classroom til the walls reverberated around us. All children were on crutches or in wheel chairs, one lay on a stretcher, and how enthusiastically and beautifully they sang!

Then we went to the Safety House for abandoned children. Only one infant currently is diagnosed with AIDS. Naively, they said they "expect more."

From there, we went to the Reformed South African Presbyterian Church where the church women were having a fund raiser. They sang for us, and it felt like a great celebration. And finally we went to a foster care residential program for abandoned and orphaned children ages 2-16. This is a shelter in the process of being built, but when completed they will house 150 children. There are ten children in each cottage, along with a foster mother and two assistants who also live in each cottage. (No foster fathers.) Ali took Polaroid photographs of each child and gave them a picture of themselves. The children were thrilled.

I rode back to the home where we are staying with Cliff Leeuw. He is thinking about quitting his treasurer's position with a Presbyterian Church to become a foster father. I told him all about my dad and encouraged him to consider the possibility. Cliff seems warm, gentle, and encouraging, much like my dad. I think he might be just right for the job!

October 18, 1998

Where to begin? What words can I say?

Last night we had dinner here with Cliff and Vusi and their families, and other important members of the church. We retired to the living room after dinner and engaged in such stimulating discussion (i.e. Vusi asked me, "Now, Linda, tell me - how did Americans develop the work ethic?")

And then, as they prepared to leave, the adult men and women stood to pray together. And of course, their prayer was in song! They sang one song after another, in Xhosa language, harmonizing and improvising with such great beauty that tears ran down my cheeks. Of all my moments here, it was the most special and the most indescribable.

Then came Sunday morning. We went with Cliff and Vusi to the Reformed Presbyterian Church of Southern Africa. Surprisingly, it was a very traditional service, an exact replica of any I might have attended on Main Street in Hornell, New York in my youth. Cliff called on me to read the scriptures! I'm not sure why he chose me, but I was secretly pleased.

But then Vusi gave the sermon - what a gifted speaker! He was challenging and provocative, and I found myself thinking of him with great intellectual respect. I longed to have time to discuss and deliberate the sermon with him. Instead, after church, we gathered at Vusi's home and over 'finger foods' we engaged in a debate about the role of women in society. I found myself struggling to understand the values and belief system they were espousing. I told them, "Your culture is so foreign to mine, it is as though you have asked me to stop breathing air and to breathe water instead. But I am trying to understand."

The discussion was long and lively. Finally, Cliff broke us up and we drove out to Malungeni Community where we met with the local chief, and with the Director of the Community Center. And then, to our astonishment, the village children came in great numbers, to dance and sing for us. One girl played the drum and sang, and the children of all ages wore jingle belts around their ankles, made from the lids of tin cans. The image of their dancing and the sound of their song is forever within me now. As is the image of the old chief who, as we left, expressed his appreciation for our visit by presenting us with a live chicken!

Then we came back home and had dinner and more singing. I asked to address the group to say thank you for the lessons we have learned (or been reminded of) while here with them: love for the children, commitment to each other for we are all brothers and sisters, and welcoming of strangers so they know that they belong.

How can I leave this place?

I have made a donation to the church in my father's name. And I told Cliff and his family to watch for my greeting in the evening sky, when they see the constellation called Orion's Belt.

October 19, 1998

We arose early and left Umtata, and have now arrived in East London on the Indian Ocean. Cliff Leeuw drove and I rode with him and all the way we debated: the value of organized religion versus spirituality, the possibility of reincarnation versus traditional Presbyterian doctrine, Cliff's concept of nyamezela (which he uses to describe perseverance in marriage) versus his view of how easily Americans divorce, and the pros and cons of transracial adoption. What wonderful, stimulating conversation! I loved Umtata and the warmth of the people.

Tonight we had dinner with Reverend Bongani Blessing Finca, who served on the Truth and Reconciliation Committee! He told us how the committee worked and what issues they faced, and then dealt with a barrage of questions from the group. What an incredibly brilliant man. Most of our questions could have been responded to from a perspective of either shallow or profound. In every instance, he chose profound. His answers were thoughtful and reflective, but full of hope and commitment, as has been true with all our hosts.

Tonight the trip is half over. I feel that I have lived here for many years; I can hardly remember my home in New York.

My hotel room window is open; we face the Indian Ocean and the waves are rolling in. I hope they sing me to sleep, for I am missing my friends in Umtata and want to be there right now.

October 20, 1998

We left East London and drove to King William's Town where we met with the Provincial Premier Stofile (who would be the counterpart of our Governor), the Director General (Lieutenant Governor), and the Mayor of King William's Town. All discussions were very intense, concerning the mandate to achieve reconciliation and the role of the political leaders in counseling people to help them deal with their pain. We went to the gravesite of Steve Biko and were supposed to meet with his widow, but she had to leave town to work on her master's theses. In the afternoon we flew to Cape Town for our last five days. Tonight I am resisting East London; I am resisting Cape Town --- I want to be back in Umtata! I am so tired - too tired to write! I am going to bed.

October 21, 1998

Cape Town is so different from Umtata I am in real culture shock. This is a city, and quite cosmopolitan. The beauty of the mountains and the ocean between which Cape Town is nestled is the most striking aspect of this place. Tabletop Mountain and Devil's Peak provide a constant reference point no matter where you are.

Our tour guides here are Allison, Keith, and Clive. These are three young people who came together with the commitment that they wanted to teach the real history of their country, to research the cultures of the people who live here, and to introduce those few interested 'tourists' to what South Africa, old and new, is really about. They are incredibly committed to their cause, and had taken great pains to make sure we spend time not seeing the sights, but talking with the people.

We spent today learning history. First we went to Slave Lodge where we learned about the slaves that were brought here, and where they came from (since it was Dutch policy not to enslave indigenous peoples to rather to import slaves from foreign countries), and how they were 'assigned' here in Cape Town. Then we went to District Six to learn about the forced evacuation when people were 'classified', uprooted from their homes, and forced to live in segregated communities. We went to the District Six Museum which had been opened as a ten day exhibition in 1994 and has never closed. While the original exhibit was being prepared, one man contacted them to say he had actual street signs from District Six stored in his basement. He did so at great peril, since everything from District Six was to have been destroyed. It turns out he was the person in charge of the demolition teams! And when he brought in the street signs, he wept: "I was only doing what I was ordered to do."

In similar manner, most of the items in the museum have been contributed by people who were trying to save a remnant of their lives. The inhumanity of the forced uprooting has become the basis for emotional reunifications which occur with regularity at the Museum, a place of healing.

From there we went to Robin Island, to see the prison where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated. Prior to being a prison, Robbin Island had been a dumping ground for lepers, and later for the insane. The island is actually quite spacious and beautiful. We saw much attractive foliage and wild life.

Our tour guide at the prison was a former inmate. It was a solemn tour; everyone was hushed as he told of the cruelty they had endured. He told us that when the political prisoners wanted to have a 'sensitive' conversation they held pillows over the monitors through which the guards listened to their activities. His voice shook as he said, "We didn't know if it was doing any good (in keeping our conversations secret). But we couldn't just do what they demanded of us. We had to do something."

October 22, 1998

Today Patrick (Tariq) deGoede, Public Relations Director for the National Parliament, gave us a personal tour of Parliment. It was an exciting history lesson, and felt quite overwhelming to stand in the room where the laws of apartheid were written, and where now a new constitution has been constructed. Patrick showed us the Book of Remembrance, where the names of the South African men who died in World Wars I and II are recorded; the black men who died are not listed with their regiments, but are listed separately at the back of the book. Patrick is an activist who has believed in and fought for equality. His fingers rested lightly on the book as he said, "They volunteered for service believing they would be finally accepted by fighting for their country. But even in death..." his voice trailed off.

This afternoon, the plan was for us to meet with members of the political parties: ANC, PAC, NP, and IFP. But I was so mentally exhausted, I had to go home and I slept the entire afternoon! We spoke tonight with Bob (our guide) about the need to build in space for solitude or rest. We ate a lively dinner at an Indian Restaurant near St. Paul's Bed and Breakfast where we are staying. It is only 10 p.m. and I am off to bed again! It is not just the pace of the trip but the amount of stimuli which incapacitates you - there is so much to experience.

October 23, 1998

Today we went to see the townships outside of Cape Town. Here, black Africans live in what we would call poverty, and yet once again I must say emphatically, we Americans are the ones who are impoverished, in our sense of spirit, and pride, and community! We went to Khayelitsha to visit a community radio station which broadcast in secret during the days of apartheid; we went to a program called Philani (which means nutrition) where the children are provided food and educational day care while the mothers learn to weave rugs. I bought one of course. We ate lunch at Thutuka's in Gugulethu, where Clive told us the details of the death of his friend Amy Biehl who was gunned down by black activists seeking to evict whites from the township. (Her parents came to the trial and have supported amnesty for the girl's killers, but Clive says he cannot agree. "I am ANGRY about murderers who hide behind the screen of political activism," he said.) She was killed just around the corner from where we ate lunch; in her memory her parents have carried on her work to support a reconciled South Africa. We then went on to several programs (i.e. technical colleges) where young adults learn job skills. Here I bought several beautifully crafted items.

And finally, we went to a Community Peace Workers Program, where young adults, ages 18-35 are trained to walk in the streets and identify potential signs of violence, and there on the spot provide mediation and conflict resolution. This was a very impressive program, where the young people are sent in the streets with only their cell phones.

Oh goodness! I forgot to mention that in the township of Khayelitsha we came upon a family making beer (ungamboti). They poured a batch into a big tin can and we all drank some. Tonight, I'll have some Windhoek beer with dinner, but the beer I will remember from South Africa is this home brew made from maize (corn), cooked, strained, and served to us with great friendliness and generosity.

Tonight we went to Signal Hill to watch the sun set. It reminded me of sunset at the Oasis in Austin, Texas, so when the sun ended her performance I began to applaud. It turns out the woman standing next to us was from Austin Texas and has applauded the sun set many times at the Oasis Restaurant! We had a lovely chat. After, we went to dinner at 'FRESH' restaurant with friends of Bob: Trevor and Shairn Hollis-Turner. He works for local government (Executive Director of Human Resources) and she ran the technical college we visited today where I bought the mask. They were both warm and caring people and invited me to contact them when I return. And they obviously meant it! I really enjoyed their company!

October 24, 1998

Since we arrived, we have been discussing the African concept of Ubuntu, which literally means, "I am because we are." This is the great difference in the South African and American sense of community. As opposed to the rugged individualism which has been so much a part of our culture, the South Africans we have spoken with think of themselves as a community, and consider their actions in terms of what would be good for all, i.e. "I exist because we exist." Over breakfast we had a lively discussion about Mandella's leadership in insisting on reconciliation, and the worries of the people about the future if their next leaders were to take a different approach (for example, an eye for an eye).

Today was a very different day. We spent the day driving along the coast, first to Fish Hook which was once the only area 'coloreds' were allowed to swim, then on to Muizenburg and ending up at Whale Bay. We stood and watched right whales frolicking off the shore in the afternoon sun! Finally we drove through the Cape Point Native Reserve where we saw protea bushes (the national flower) blooming all round, on to the Cape of Good Hope, and ended the day with a drive along Chapman's Peak, a narrow drive perched at the edge of the cliff. It was a spectacular day of varied weather, beginning cold with strong winds, softening to a pleasant warm sun, misting over to a gentle steady rain, and finally as late afternoon settled in a strong warm sun giving way to COLD night air. Since it is Saturday night, the electric lights are lit on Tabletop Mountain. The lights are hazy blue, and create an eerie mystical sense of other worldly beauty. Over lunch, Clive had explained the 22 categories and subcategories of race and ethnicity into which people were herded during apartheid, and the impact on their rights and privileges, their opportunities, and their self esteem. It is hard to reconcile the beauty of the country which we saw today and the violence and humiliation so systematically carried out here.

October 26, 1998

Last night I was too tired to write! I am at the breakfast table at St. Paul's guest house getting ready to leave Africa today! I began yesterday so exhausted I was not really looking forward to spending the day with Rodney Adonis. The plan for the day was for our group to break up and each spend the day with pre-selected individuals to have a more personal experience with 'regular citizens.' I was chosen to go with Rodney, an African-jazz musician (guitar) of KhoiKhoi descent. It turned out to be a perfect day, just right for my last day in this country, because Rodney was so open and willing to share his opinions. He described how under apartheid his view of what he could do with his life was limited by the boundaries of the classification system, but now he is working to become a full-time professional musician, and working with youth to help them be able to see themselves becoming whatever they want to be. He took me on a long drive up into the hills and into a vineyard where we looked down over Cape Town. From the hilltop he pointed out the airport and said his aunt lives near there. As a child, he used to lie on the roof at his aunt's house and look up at the planes coming and going and imagining the people in the plane and what their lives might be like. "Of course, I knew they were all white," he said.

We spent our last night at the Blue Note where we listened to African Jazz. However, someone phoned in a bomb threat and the place was closed down! Another bar near-by was threatened and a bombing did occur, but there was no actual bomb at the Blue Note. Still, our tour guides said, "Now you have had one more South African experience."

And so, I will spend my last day packing and then head out at 5 p.m for Johannesburg, then JFK, then Rochester. It will be over 24 hours of travel. I am reminded, as I reflect back on this journey, of a comment Trevor made the night we ate together. In America, he said, if you ask how long does it take to get from Point A to Point B, the response will be, "Oh, about a half an hour." But if you ask the same question in South Africa, the answer will be, "It depends on how many people you meet along the way."

And, ah, the people I have met! And, more than met, incorporated, for in some very important way, I am taking them home with me...

Linda Kurtz works for a child protection agency. She lives in Rochester, New York.