a nice random picture: my hero, Bono.

Not much excitement this week (Sept 23-29), so I’ll just share some random information with you all. It’s been raining alot the past few days, which is very good news for Swaziland since it has been going through a major drought. It’s not great news for me personally, though, since I have to walk up and down mud slides if I want to go anywhere around my house. On top of that, my flashlight broke the other day, so I can’t see where I’m going after dark. Oh well.

Something positive that happened this week is that I found a laundry place very close to my office. Now my only challenge is figuring out a way to get the clean clothes back to my house, seeing how I don’t have a car. Who knows, I may end up living in my office from time to time.

Transportation in Swaziland is interesting to say the least. Main roads are in very good condition (comparable to America and actually better than in DC!), whereas side roads are abysmal. The most frequently used mode of travel is by mini-bus, or “khumbi” as they call it here. These death-traps are the most unsafe vehicles imaginable, and I think most of the drivers are recruited from insane asylums. Luckily, I only have to ride in them for half my commute.

Speaking of traveling, I have already been to most regions of the country, either with my work or family. The differences in weather and terrain are staggering, and this is primarily caused by the variations in elevation levels. The other volunteers and I hiked a place called Sibebe Rocks, which is the largest granite something or another in the world supposedly. It was quite a climb, and I contracted quite a rash on the way.

So that’s about all the randomness I have for you right now. Let me know what kind of things you all would like me to talk about. I miss everybody from back home. I’m pretty sure home-sickness has kicked in full throttle by now, but I’m doing alright considering the circumstances.

Oh, and before I forget…I just found out that my office is closed the entire month of December, so if anybody was thinking about taking a vacation to southern Africa, this would be the time to do it!

This entire week (Sept 16-22) has been packed with momentous events, most of them extremely frustrating. On the home front, it started off with news that my host-grandmother had passed away. I was able to visit her in the hospital once, where she had been bed-ridden for quite awhile. I couldn’t help but think that she probably viewed me as the angel of death, seeing how she was barely cognizant of her surroundings at the time. Once the news of her death reached my homestead, my host-mother immediately left to be with other family for a time of mourning, which I am told traditionally lasts for two weeks. This left me and my host-sister, Mpumie, alone by ourselves, since baby Tcomile was currently staying with her father in a different town. I was initially fine with this arrangement, until I realized how upset and detached Mpumie had become (which is understandable, since the grandmother who died had raised Mpumie, essentially acting as her mother.) I tried being as supportive as possible, but I’m not sure it helped. It turns out, Mpumie called me at work one day and said she had accepted a new job and was moving out that night. She literally packed up her stuff and left, even before I could say good-bye. This was the most shocking revelation of my time here so far, mainly because Mpumie is the closest friend I have here. So as it stands right now, I live partially-alone in a house on top of a mountain. I say partially because there is a young guy in the village who stays with me at night (apparently for protection), also taking care of the garden and other miscellaneous chores. Fortunately, he’s a really nice dude. Unfortunately, he speaks very little English. And as for the little toddler, who previously added excitement and humor to my daily-life, I have no idea where she will end up in this whole mess.

Well that only sums up about half the craziness of this week. Actually, instead of describing all the mass hysteria that occurred at work, I’ll give you the highlights. The first day I met the senior wife of King Mswati, who apparently is the honorary patron of Cheshire Homes. She seemed nice, but that's about all I could say at the moment. The next day I met one of the committee members, and she informed me that the rest of the committee understood what a disastrous state the organization is currently in. Ironically, this came as welcome news, since I was more worried that she would act as if everything was fine. Also, supposedly there is an Australian volunteer, who will also join the team soon, and her expertise is in Occupational Therapy (a line of work which I nearly went to school for myself). Later in the week I had to prepare a presentation for a meeting with the Minister of Health and the Minister of Finance. The meeting was excruciatingly painful and tedious, but not altogether a waste. This was because I met a woman there who is from Falls Church, recently graduated from the College of William and Mary, and has been working and will continue to work in Swaziland during the upcoming year.

On Saturday, I was supposed to attend the funeral, but unfortunately had no way of traveling there. This was solely because the three people who could have given me rides were already driving to different funerals. This is the reality for Swazis; a very depressing one in which most Saturdays are spent burying friends and family. The rest of the weekend I am supposed to attend an NGO fair and a sponsored-walk for Cheshire. But honestly, I feel like crap. So that leaves me with the other option of lying around my lonely house, eating cereal and peanut butter all day (since I can’t cook and there’s no microwave).

All this being said, I am reminded of the Bible verse somewhere which says to be content in all circumstances. So I want to reassure you, I am definitely content. I’m just not happy at the moment. As always, your prayers are appreciated.

I’ll start with my church experience, since I think more people will be interested in that. My host family attends a Pentecostal church, “Jesus Calls Worship Center,” or JC for short. It is the largest church in Swaziland with about 1,500 people attending every Sunday. I have been there three times already, and most likely that will be it. The reason for my disapproval is that this church preaches the “prosperity gospel” (also called “health-and-wealth gospel”) in which tithing is the central part of the morning service. The pastor, who calls himself an “apostle,” actually gives a short sermon before every offering in order to emphasize the idea that God provides riches to those who freely give. Now that I think of it, this type of theology sounds eerily similar to the indulgence controversy that the Reformers faced long ago. Isn’t it funny how distortions of Christ’s message seem to re-hash themselves in different ways and in different times? Anyways, I digress. But the crucial point is this: churches which preach that God is only on the side of the rich and that the poor are somehow spiritually corrupt is exactly opposite of what Scripture teaches. And it is so incredibly dangerous to think like this; especially on the African continent, where the majority of people are living in extreme poverty.

So all that being said, I plan to try some Anglican churches in the area. If that doesn’t work out either, at least I brought enough reading material to keep myself intellectually busy. Lewis, Bonhoeffer, Hauerwas, Calvin, Sproul, Yoder, and Dostoevsky are decent teachers in their own right. Speaking of teachers, or mentors, I want to say how sorely I miss the advice of older friends that I had become so accustomed to over the past years. I truly hoped, and still hope, that I might find some sort-of Swazi Desmond Tutu to lead me through the mystery that is Africa. For reasons I will not divulge now, it seems like it would be fairly easy for me to get to know King Mswati, but I doubt he would be the kind of mentor who could give me helpful advice. (For anybody interested on why this is the case, simply do some Google research on the infamous Mswati, or as I like to call him, the “last king of Africa”).

His Majesty King Mswati

As far as food is concerned, let’s just say the diet here is not very conducive to someone who has genetically-high cholesterol, such as yours truly. Tons of starch, quite a bit of meat, and few vegetables. One healthy aspect is that people rarely eat red meat except on special occasions. The craziest things I’ve eaten so far have been ox-tail, gizzards, and the aforementioned intestines/stomach cuisine. My usual eating routine so far has been cereal for breakfast (there are some things I just can’t live without…but unfortunately Kashi hasn’t made its way across the ocean yet), lunch at my office, and dinner with my host family at night.

So, yes, I finally started my job. Let me explain the organization for which I am working/volunteering. It is a non-profit, non-governmental organization called Cheshire Homes of Swaziland. Their purpose is to offer physical rehabilitation and housing for those who are disabled from stroke, car accidents, cerebral palsy, and HIV/AIDS related illnesses. It is the largest and only Center of its kind in the entire country. All government hospitals refer their patients to us, but the government “conveniently” fails to offer sufficient funds for Cheshire’s operating expenses. This is partly where I come in.

My official title is Capacity Building Officer, which is a catch-all term in this scenario for “do whatever it takes to keep this sinking ship afloat.” The first day I started, it seemed to me like the staff had elected me as CEO and depended on my widespread “expertise” to solve all of their problems. Suffice it to say, I was a bit intimidated. I had been warned by a previous volunteer that Cheshire was completely disorganized and needed drastic help, but it didn’t hit me until I had seen it first-hand. Some news that didn’t make things any easier was that all their funds would be depleted within a few months.

The first full week I decided to observe the typical day-to-day operations and take notes on what I saw. I also talked to staff and patients on what was most desperately needed and what needed improvement. I came to the conclusion that the highest priority was for me to draft a number of proposals to send out to international donors requesting funds. So that is currently where I am in my work. Let’s just hope Bill Gates and/or the UN think disabled people are worthy of their time and money.

The week of September 9-15 would turn out to be both a national-holiday and family-party theme. I finally was able to move in with my host family and experience true African culture. I had no idea how genuine it would actually be. How about living on top of a mountain with no indoor plumbing, bath, heat, or air conditioning. Now imagine that this is the life for the middle-class. Hard to believe, huh? After the initial shock, though, I began to understand how this situation would help me to truly learn how others around the world live. I am gradually becoming grateful for this opportunity. My host family, consisting of three generations of women (a grandmother, a daughter my age, and a two-year old granddaughter), are terrific people who actually speak English well. And the view from the mountain is breathtaking, while the walk up to the house is also quite literally breathtaking.

Where I live

Now a few words describing my host family. My “make” (translated as “mother,” pronounced MAH-GAY), Make Mweli, is about the same age as my real mother, and she is also surprisingly similar. She is overly punctual, works very hard around the house, takes care of extended family members, and all-together has a wonderful personality. My host sister, or “sisi,” is named Mpumie, and we get along very well. Because she has taken me with her almost everywhere, I immediately have a social life in Swaziland! She has a great personality, and we have already become very good friends. Mpumie’s daughter, Tcomile, is considered my niece, or “umshana wami.” Therefore, if you can put two and two together, I dawn the name “Uncle Jesse.” Ironically, Tcomile is probably more adorable than Michelle from “Full House.” (If you didn’t get that joke…have mercy! HA, I am the master of puns!)

Mpumie and Tcomile

I met some more of the extended family at a party, in which I rode in the back of a pick-up truck at high speeds for hours on end; quite the norm in this country. Car safety is one of my pet peeves, so naturally I was terrified. For the party, they slaughtered a goat to feast on. Apparently, the intestines and stomach of animals are considered a delicacy. Naturally, I tried some of each, and let’s just say that it tastes like what eventually comes out of the stomach and intestines. There were some men at the party, so they asked me the usual questions about why I wasn’t married and if I had any children. As always, the conversation eventually progressed to whether I liked Swazi women and if I would take one as my wife.

the women of the family. my host-mother is on the right.

Speaking of wives, though, the other volunteers and I went to the national celebration known as the Reed Dance, in which thousands of unmarried women dress and dance in traditional form in order that the King (yes, that’s right, King as in absolute monarchy…maybe more on that later) can choose a new virgin wife to add to his growing collection. This holiday activity is world-renowned and is a major tourist attraction. I have my opinions about it, but I don’t want to step on any toes, so I will just describe it as “interesting.” What’s possibly more interesting is that there was another holiday three days later, so my first week of work lasted a grand total of two days, in which I spent the entire time editing the most important document that the organization has written in the past two years.

Reed Dance

I was fully expecting to start my work the second week, but God (and I think Africa) has a way of testing my patience, a quality which I sorely lack. It turns out that all of us were sent to participate in a peer-education workshop sponsored by Faith Bible School. The only problem, which we soon discovered, was that the instructor spoke entirely in siSwati. Therefore, the conference turned into a language seminar for me, complete with daily siSwati lessons from our private tutor, Bo Shongwe. Unfortunately, I am quite possibly the worst language learner in the world, and this aspect of the program had been one of my greatest fears. So throw in a dozen clicking noises with a completely jumbled sentence structure and you have a recipe for disaster as far as I’m concerned.

One benefit of the workshop, though, was getting to know the other participants, specifically my good friends Percy and Hlonipho. They both have terrific personalities, and I always enjoy being in their company (except at the crack of dawn when apparently all African men get up to iron their clothes and talk very loudly!) At the end of the week, though, I was beyond ready to start my job. But alas, this would not be the case, or more accurately, it would not be as I planned.

conference center

Hlonipho

Upon arrival in Swaziland, we were picked up by the local MCC representative, Hlobi. She is a wonderful woman, full of the usual joy and vitality found in most Africans. She took us to a city called Manzini, which is the largest in the country, comparable in size to old-town Alexandria (hence, in American terms, not very large at all). We found out that during this week, we would have another less-formal orientation, which essentially consisted of administrative details as well as familiarizing ourselves with African culture. We stayed at the offices of an organization called Faith Bible School (FBS), whose mission is to educate youth about HIV/AIDS.

This week was very relaxing, which allowed me to recover from jet-lag and also orient myself to time-zone changes (6 hours ahead of EST). It was also a good time to bond with the other two volunteers, Miriam and Trevor.

Miriam, or Mimi as she would like me to call her, is a few years younger than me, and took a break from college to participate in this program. Part of me wishes I had gone a similar route, since my studies would have been that much more fulfilling had I experienced the reality before-hand. Anyways, Miriam and I have had a number of great conversations, mostly of me philosophizing about the current state of the world and my place in it, and her waiting patiently to interject a wise counter-point here and there. That being said, she is a very good listener.

Trevor is the same age as me and we are both interested in similar topics such as global health and economic development. He has traveled and lived abroad more than I have, but I think I have read and studied more, so we have many interesting discussions of what we believe to be important and pressing issues. On top of all that, we get along very well, and I am very fortunate to have him as a close friend this year.

Team Swazi

A quick side-note on Swaziland as a nation. It is an extremely small country, completely surrounded by South Africa and Mozambique. It is approximately twice the land-size of my home county in Fairfax, VA, with a similar population of one million. More than half of Swazis are unemployed and consequently a majority live in extreme poverty. Ironically, those who have jobs are paid fairly well and therefore the infrastructure in many areas closely resembles that of South Africa (ie close to Western standards). This makes the health crisis in Swaziland (and also the rest of southern Africa, which boasts the highest per capita income of any region on the continent) all the more puzzling.
The most shocking statistic, and definitely the most well-known characteristic of Swaziland, is that it has the highest HIV prevalence rate in the entire world, between 30-40%, combined with the correlating statistic of the lowest life-expectancy rate, somewhere in the low 30s. Now go back and read that sentence again and think about it for a minute.

Maybe sharing these realities with you is not very uplifting or doesn’t give you a sense of hope. But I don’t think God wants us to always hear about things that make us feel warm and happy inside. There are major problems in this world. We need to cry and mourn at the things which God mourns over. He wants us to be his representatives on earth, sharing in the suffering of all who are oppressed, and maybe lend a helping hand when one is needed.

Flag of Swaziland

Saturday night until Monday afternoon. That’s how long my entire plane trip was. I first flew to London Heathrow (which has practically become my home airport since I’ve used it more than Dulles) with all of the volunteers serving in Africa. We had a twelve-hour layover in the city, so naturally everyone wanted to get out and see the sites. I actually wasn’t terribly excited about this idea since I had just visited London a month earlier and was not overly impressed with it, not to mention that I had already started to feel the effects of extreme jet-lag. It turns out, though, that I enjoyed our visit to the National Gallery, St. James Park, and a traditional pub.

It was at Heathrow where team Swaziland (what we call ourselves) parted company with the other groups. We embarked on our longest leg of the journey to arrive in Johannesburg, South Africa. Unfortunately, our connecting flight to Swaziland did not allow us to explore the city, but I will definitely be visiting it again during the upcoming year. Other places I hope to travel are Durban, Cape Town, and Pretoria in South Africa; Maputo in Mozambique; and Lusaka in Zambia.

Our third and final plane flew from JoBurg to Matsapha, Swaziland. This was the smallest plane I have ever been on (about 20 passengers) and it arrived at the smallest airport I have ever been to. We were literally dropped off at the front door. During the short flight I spoke to the only other white person aboard and found out she worked for the Clinton Foundation. This encounter, as well as many similar ones since then, confirmed my suspicions that the vast majority of whites in the country are here working to combat the HIV/AIDS pandemic.

Scenery from glorious Swaziland

My first week being with the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) was not actually spent in Swaziland. It was in Akron, Pennsylvania for a thorough pre-service orientation. Even though I knew this orientation would take place, I did not realize how frustrated I would become during it. Once there, I felt an urgent desire to travel and be in Africa, something I had been planning to do for a very long time. As many of you know, I studied Political and Economic Development (concentrating in sub-Saharan Africa) during my years at the University of Virginia. I had read so much information, talked to so many experts, and befriended such a variety of African immigrants, that to finally be able to live in that land myself was a dream come true. But this dream had to wait one more week.

Luckily, the accommodations in Akron were terrific and the conversations I had with fellow SALTers (what my position within MCC is titled) were very helpful. Best of all, since one of the functions of the SALT program is to act as an exchange program, there were a number of Africans serving in America with which I could share stories and information.

The following are pictures of the facilities in which we stayed. As you will soon become accustomed to, I rarely take pictures of people. I’m not actually sure what the reason is for this, but maybe it has something to do with it being unnatural to stop a friend in order to pose for a picture. Anyways, you can use your imagination to visualize what my friends looked like: Charles from Mozambique, Mndisi from Swaziland, Sokuume from Cambodia, Bridget from South Africa, Leonard from Switzerland, and a really funny Korean dude with whom I played competitive ping-pong. Also, I got to know all of the American volunteers who were going to serve in different parts of Africa, namely my fellow Swazi compatriots Trevor and Miriam.

Sanibonani bo-mngani na umndeni! (translation in English: Hello friends and family!)

Greetings from Swaziland in the southern region of Africa.

I apologize for the delay in starting this blog (or web-journal), but from now on I hope to update it approximately once a week. There are many things which I would like to share with you all.

A quick disclaimer before I begin, though. My experience so far (about a month) can best be described, I think, by the words “interesting and eye-opening.” There have been just as many bad experiences as good ones. For those who know me well, this should come as no surprise since my chief character traits are critical cynicism mixed with compassionate idealism.

The fact is: Africa is depressing. But it is also beautiful and hopeful. I am convinced also that these ideas describe America quite well, or any other country for that matter. It is because we live in a fallen world where disease, violence, corruption, and all assortments of evil plague God’s creation. But signposts and rays of light from the Kingdom to come have continually shown us that there is a Savior and He is making all things new.

So I would like to ask for your prayers during this year of struggling and learning and living. I have hope and I strive for peace. Hope and peace to you as well.