My weekend was exhausting. It was practically an HIV/AIDS tour of the country. During the morning on Friday, I visited a Catholic facility called “Hope House” (if you read the previous post, you will notice the irony in that name). This is one of the many shelters in Swaziland where AIDS patients can live. Some of the residents there come to Cheshire Homes for physical rehabilitation. My first experience seeing the devastating effects that AIDS can have on an individual’s body was when I met a beautiful young woman with a smile that could light up a room. Unfortunately, her smile was not what initially caught my eye. It was instead the fact that her legs were not much wider in circumference than a typical human wrist. I wanted to cry for her. I also wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. So what did I ultimately end up doing? I just smiled right back at her and continue to smile every time we meet.

On Friday afternoon, I visited a tourist attraction known as the “cultural village.” The occasion was to show around an MCC group that is shooting a documentary on HIV/AIDS. The village had some huts and a dance performance. I wasn’t that impressed, mostly because I live in a more authentic village and I see people dancing around here all the time. There were some cool monkeys, though, and seeing them jumping around made me happy. I really like monkeys.

Okay, so back to the serious matters. On Saturday I went with my friends Trevor and Miriam to a different Hope House (not affiliated with the previous one). This one takes in AIDS orphans and we were there to help out with a Bible lesson and the lunch meal. Since the housing is very limited, only a handful of the children actually live on the premises, while others come from the surrounding area to get their daily allotment of relief food. When the kids were streaming in, my eyes gravitated towards a small child (probably 7-years old) who was carrying a toddler in her arms and leading another about the same age. All three seemed to be siblings. They had dirt all over them, not to mention open sores. I sensed that I was seeing for the first time what development workers label a “child-headed household.” One of the youngest girls had an obvious cleft palate. When she received her bowl of scolding porridge, I noticed that she was unable to use her lips to blow and cool down the food. I instinctively ran to help her with this task, much to the amazement of the other children and even the adults. They seemed to think I was doing something special. But I wasn’t. I was doing what was necessary. Every child deserves this sort of attention.

Sunday was the grand finale. I joined the group of HIV/AIDS peer educators from Faith Bible School in a presentation they gave to a local church. Actually, presentation isn’t really the best word to describe it. They literally conduct the entire service, so it’s more like a church-hijacking. Singing, prayer, testimonies, drama, discussion. I never thought I would be in an African choir, but I guess there’s a first for everything. What was most exciting, and what convinced me to actually go along, was that my best Swazi friend, Percy, preached the sermon. He is such an incredible guy. Hilarious and genuinely nicer than Barney the purple dinosaur. We rode back together on the same bus, which just so happened to be exponentially more cramped than any DC metro during rush-hour. But it was bearable only because Percy was there to share in the experience while simultaneously cracking jokes every few minutes.

So those are my stories from the weekend. Please pray for me, but even more so for those who suffer from a life of poverty and disease. Most of the time I just don’t have the energy or conviction to do it on my own.

children in line to get their only meal of the day

Wow. Frustrated is such a perfect word to describe how I felt this past week at work. Or involving work-related activities, I should say, since most of the frustration was caused by external factors, and were by no means the fault of Cheshire Homes. It actually wasn’t anything monumental, but rather a combination of many small things. I originally intended to use this post to describe all of the problems I encountered, thereby amassing enough evidence to back up my inevitable conclusion. But instead, why don’t we skip the nitty-gritty and just go straight to the “meaty-bones” (a staple food here in Swaziland, I kid you not).

So my controversial statement of the week is the following: “Africa is plagued by rampant inefficiency, which may be as detrimental to the continent as the traditional plagues of hunger, disease, and poverty.”

Now I realize this is an extremely broad categorization, and furthermore, I am providing you with virtually no evidence to back up such a claim. Also, I admit that a hypothesis such as the one above does not necessarily apply to all areas of society, or even a majority. And in an attempt to refute myself even more so, I confess that I am a slight-perfectionist who has been known to complain about inefficiencies in almost every sector of American society also (not to mention every place I’ve ever worked). But truly, what I have experienced here so far is on a whole different level. One benefit of all this is that my view of economic development is constantly evolving each and every day I am a part of this culture.

So why am I telling you this, other than the fact that I need a place to vent my frustrations? The answer is that many of you are just like me. We are cynical. We are frustrated and depressed with the world around us, and most of the time we feel helpless to change it. It may not be in respect to development issues, but nonetheless it is present in our everyday lives. And that is why, instead of using the rest of this post to describe how messed up this world is (as if you didn’t know already), I want to pass on some insights from a book I just read.

It’s called God’s Politics by Jim Wallis. The following is a long quote which applies directly to what I’ve been discussing:

“Perhaps the only people who view the world realistically are the cynics and the saints. Everybody else may be living in some kind of denial about what is really going on and how things really are. And the only difference between the cynics and the saints is the presence, power, and possibility of hope. More than just a moral issue, hope is a spiritual and even religious choice. Hope is not a feeling, it is a decision. And the decision for hope is based on what you believe at the deepest levels—what your most basic convictions are about the world and what the future holds. You choose hope, not as a naïve wish, but as a choice, with your eyes wide open to the reality of the world.” (347)

For me, right now, I have firm roots in the cynical camp, but I’m trying my best (with God’s help, of course) to cross sides into the other territory. Sainthood may be a long ways off (like eternity), so I might have to simply settle for a place of more sincere hopefulness. At least then I might have the patience to love my neighbor (or enemy) as myself.

Greetings to you all, my illustrious family and friends. Last week, I drove in Swaziland by myself for the first time. The verdict? Scary as all-get-out. I’ve actually been practicing a little bit with one of my co-workers (who just so happens to be a driving instructor in his spare time). You may be wondering why I would need practice, seeing how my driving skills are practically NASCAR-level. Well, the reasons are threefold. First, they only drive manual cars here, and I’ve always used automatics. Second, they drive on the opposite side of the road and have weird traffic signs/rules. And last but not least, most of the drivers here are reckless, while most of the pedestrians are oblivious. Now that’s a dangerous combination, resulting in a high accident rate. Oh, and I forgot to mention that wearing seat belts is almost unheard of in this country.

This past weekend, I had the privilege of hanging out with a group of twentysomethings, comprised of one American, one South African, and two British. A fairly good international representation I must say, with the exception that we were all white as vanilla ice cream. The occasion was the World Cup of Rugby on the big screen at a thoroughly expatriate “gathering place.” It was a fun time, but I kept thinking about how much more fun it would be if I was watching the World Series at “Glory Days” with Sanchez and the Boys. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t understand half of this paragraph. I doubt even the guys who could are even reading this blog.

Now that I’ve been here about two months, I’d like to give you an update on the food. Traditional Swazi food is still the same as I described in a previous post, but I’ve been branching out to the many South African selections found all over the country. Whoa momma, that country knows what’s up. Every single chain store is from there. The only American fast-food chain is KFC. Also, I found this new local restaurant called “Chef’s Palace” that is hands-down the best deal in the world. It’s like a five-star extravaganza with super-cheap prices. It boggles my mind. I ordered a vegetable platter one time and I started freakin’ out because it was so good. Oh man, now I’m hungry.

Last up on the agenda is American politics. Now I know what you’re thinking: How can this chump (referring to me) presume to lecture me (referring to you) on current events that are happening in a galaxy far, far, away from Swaziland. Well…I’ll give you a simple answer to your simple-minded question. When I lived in America, I kept up to date on international affairs. Now that I live in Swaziland, the international realm actually includes America! For instance, I know vital world news such as the Redskins and Wahoos football record (4-2 and 7-1 respectively). But the crucial point of this political commentary is that the upcoming Republican and Democratic primaries (and subsequent general election) in 2008 are incredibly important, not only because of the times we find ourselves in, but also the particular individuals running in the race. I am fairly convinced that if Rudy Guliani and Hillary Clinton win their respective party endorsements, everyone in the entire world will lose. On the other hand, if Barrack Obama and Sam Brownback achieve victory, the world may truly become a better place.

BREAKING NEWS: You thought you had me there, but no…I indeed just found out that Brownback dropped out of the race, and I am devastated. This is extremely bad news. I don’t know much about the other Republican candidates, except that Mitt Romney is no good. Maybe Mike Huckabee or Ron Paul could make decent Presidents, but I’m not especially optimistic.

Now I would like to explain to you my reasoning behind all this political mumbo-jumbo, but unfortunately I have rambled on too much as it is. You’ll just have to wait until the next installment! Dum-dum-dum (LOST credits roll).

This past weekend, one of my African nieces had her first birthday, and the family held a gigantic party for the record books. There were so many little toddlers running around that I think my head is still spinning. They even rented a moon bounce to add to the chaos. Some of you know that I worked at a camp for special-needs children the past two summers, and even fewer of you know that I am a moon-bounce master, to say the least. So naturally I sacrificed life and limb to regulate the carnival contraption. Fun was had by all. I even received a hot dog and a few lollipops for my efforts.

Now on to some more serious adult matters. A few weeks ago, Bono was the recipient of another random humanitarian award. He is usually given one every few months, as well as being continually nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. That’s not the interesting part, though. What is more exciting is that he always has to give a speech. Each and every time he rocks the house (pun is indeed intended). This most recent one in Philadelphia was no exception. Here is an excerpt:

“What about this idea of liberty? Not liberty for its own sake, but liberty for some larger end – not just freedom from oppression, but freedom of expression and worship. Freedom from want, and freedom from fear because when you are trapped by poverty, you are not free. When trade laws prevent you from selling the food you grow, you are not free. When you are dying of a mosquito bite for lack of a bed net, you are not free. When you are hungry in a world of plenty, you are not free. And when you are a monk in Burma this very week, barred from entering a temple because your gospel of peace is an affront to the thug regime, well then none of us are truly free.”

This speech wasn’t even his best. A few months back, he preached (and I do mean preached) at the NAACP awards. You can watch the video below, including an awesome introduction.

Two years ago, he spoke at the National Prayer Breakfast and it was published as a book, titled On the Move. Check out the video below and then buy the book (all profits go to the ONE Campaign).

As good a speaker as he is, though, his music with U2 is that much more amazing. I don’t think I can wait any longer for their new album. Goodness gracious.

So I brought a few books along with me. About half a suit-case to be exact. Some are classics and others are newer releases. The first one I read on my trip over here was Mere Christianity by CS Lewis. I’ve read some of his other stuff and grew up with the Narnia series, but this particular work had somehow eluded my grasp. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant and simple read. Lewis reminds me of the current writer Philip Yancey in that they both have a very accessible and down-to-earth style, with profound theological statements interjected throughout. I did find, though, that a number of Lewis’ arguments were unconvincing in the way he presented them, not to mention the fact that his experiences in WWII seemed to skew his views on many topics. So my next dose of Lewis will not be non-fiction, but rather his lesser know Space Trilogy.

Speaking of fictional writing, I just finished Byzantium by Stephen Lawhead. He is my favorite author when it comes to science fiction or historical fantasy novels. I think it is no exaggeration to rank him up there with Lewis and Tolkien. This particular title, weighing in at close to a thousand pages, is about an Irish monk and his journeys through the declining Holy Roman Empire as well as the emerging Islamic equivalent. I didn’t think it was Lawhead’s best work, so if you are interested in reading any of his stuff, I would advise you to start with the Song of Albion trilogy or any of his sci-fi novels. And if you think I’m a nerd for reading this stuff, well then you are sorely mistaken! I know plenty of fellow Star Wars fans (the original trilogy of course) that would back me up on this one.

Back to theology for a second. As I have grown up within the Reformed tradition for most of my life, I thought it prudent for me to read the big man himself, John Calvin. It was pretty much as I expected. Very similar to Martin Luther’s writing. Extremely dense and hard to understand, but for the most part, well-argued. There’s only so much Old-English one can read at a time, though. For a much clearer and more stimulating explanation of Reformed doctrine, check out any book or lecture by R.C. Sproul, who my dad and I like to refer to as the Communicator Extraordinaire. Just listen or watch one of his talks and you'll understand: http://www.ligonier.org/rym.php

Lastly, I picked up a book collecting dust at my office called Disability and Inclusive Development, recently published by Leonard Cheshire International (the global NGO with which Cheshire Swaziland is affiliated). It's a very informative volume. Unfortunately, the issue of disabled persons living in poor countries is about as neglected a topic one can find. I am referring to the poorest of the poor; the most humiliated and marginalized people group, and quite possibly the highest priority in the heart of God. While the book touches on a number of areas important to the field of disability such as education and economics, the overriding focus is a united call for empowerment as a right. Let me give you a quote from the introduction:

“Our aim is to generate action. The exclusion of disabled people from social, economic, political and community life is perpetuated by ignorance and poverty, and exacerbated by conflict. Without change at all levels disabled people will continue to be largely excluded from the development process. This disempowerment leads to loss for both the individual and community where each would benefit from unlocking the potential of disabled people.” (19)

So that’s about it with respect to literature. I’m currently reading God’s Politics by Jim Wallis, and since that book is so incredibly amazing, it’s going to get an entire post all to itself. Salani kahle (translation: stay well).

This is the one who makes me Uncle Jesse

Yep, that little adorable thing above is the most important person in my life right now. Let me explain. You see, immediately after I had my horrible few weeks of everything going wrong, the board of directors in charge of Cheshire Homes offered me a place to live next to the office. Obviously, this living arrangement would have been much more convenient for work. And because the situation at home had been so rife with problems during this time, I naturally jumped at the opportunity to change settings. I had made my decision, talked to the proper authorities, and even shared the unsettling news with my host-mother. Everything was good to go…that is, until Tcomile (my niece) came back into my life. The night before I was to finalize the details on moving, I think the Holy Spirit moved through this little girl and empowered her to cheer me up from my downtrodden state as only a two-year old could do. That night, I thought very carefully about the choices which lay in front of me, and so I changed my mind. I chose to stay with my host-family on top of the mountain. It’s not perfect, but neither is any family or house in the world. The family structure has slightly changed, though. My host-sister, Mpumie, seems to be gone for good; replacing her is my bodyguard, Mancoba, who has essentially become my host-brother. So yes, it’s a weird amalgamation of individuals, but we like it that way.

Other news this past week is that the storms became even more intense. A few nights I thought our roof was going to be ripped off by the wind. It didn’t, but some unfortunate houses in the village were not so lucky. After Swaziland had been suffering from a drought for so long, most Swazis welcomed the initial rains and saw them as answers to prayer. But these torrential downpours have been causing enough problems of their own. Oh well…TIA (a Blood Diamond reference for those savvy film aficionados out there). But don’t worry, I feel moderately safe at my homestead. And even if I wasn’t safe, I’ve come to realize that God doesn’t necessarily want me to live a safe and normal life. Jesus sure didn’t. Nor did any of his disciples.

Speaking of following Jesus, I’ve decided to become a monk. Not literally; just physically. Or so it seems to my co-workers. That is, I shaved my head, and they can’t decide if I’ve thrown my lot in with the oppressed Burmese monks in Myanmar, or gone the opposite direction and imitated the infamous Italian soccer player, Zinedine Zidane! I deny both accusations since I never really wanted it cut this short in the first place. But apparently Lolita from the salon doesn’t ask how short you want it before she went to war with my poor scalp. Oh well, it will grow back by the time I arrive in the States.

I hope things are well on your side of the ocean. If things stay relatively normal here, I should be able to get to the promised literature discussion in the next post. So be prepared for some rather strongly-opinionated writing!

Yes, I realize this picture would probably look better if I had some hair

Some new developments have arisen concerning my home and work situation, but I need to clear a few things up before I share the details with you all. Therefore, stay tuned for next week’s update to get all the juicy gossip! (I realize that that statement sounds like something from a soap opera, but considering that Swazis watch an excessive amount of American day-time programming, it is more appropriate than you would think.)

So instead of divulging more worrisome news from my life of craziness, I will write about what has entertained me during times of solitude. I assume most of you know how obsessed I am with music, listening to it that is; all types of genres but heavily weighted towards more current releases. Obviously I will lack proper knowledge of albums released in the coming year, but that cannot be helped. As it is, though, before I left on this assignment, I made sure to completely fill my 60GB MP3 player with an assortment of audio delights. The following are some of my recent favorites:

South, Kenna, Arcade Fire, Michael Buble, Ohmega Watts, Shiny Toy Guns, Ryan Adams, Common, Colbie Caillat.

It would take too long for me to describe each of these musicians’ greatness, so I leave it to you to find out about them on Wikipedia and then download their albums, LEGALLY of course. Oh, and I just recently decided that Rihanna’s “Umbrella” was definitely the song of the summer, just like Chamillionaire’s “Ridin’ Dirty” was last years. I challenge you twentysomething-readers to refute this claim!

With respect to films, I am also somewhat of an addict. Fortunately, there are rental stores around here which provide me with my fix. I’ve been watching a ton of action flicks (like the most recent Die Hard and Bourne movies) with my unofficial bodyguard, Mancoba. He is the local guy in the village who has been staying with me while my host-mother was gone. Actually, the other night he carried a machete to protect me from any thugs that might cross our path. Maybe the “shoot-em up” films are a bad influence on him. Oh well.

Another movie that I saw was called “Goodbye Bafana.” It is based on the memoirs of Nelson Mandela’s prison guard, and it is fairly well done. Definitely a good educational lesson for those who are unfamiliar with Mandela’s inspiring story. For a better history lesson, though, check out his autobiography entitled “Long Walk to Freedom.”

I also want to mention a film that I have watched many times recently called “Yesterday.” It is the best depiction of the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa, particularly the region in which I am staying. Most notably, it shows how innocent women and children are disproportionately affected through no fault of their own.

On a lighter note, my viewings of Lion King have probably surpassed all others in Swaziland. This is caused by a combination of factors too long to describe. I never imagined that I would become tired of hearing “Hakuna Matata,” but that is precisely what has happened. Well…at least now I know what Rafiki and the singers are saying when they use the Zulu language.

Maybe in the next posting I will discuss some of the literature I have been perusing.