I’ll make this update short and sweet, just like my Christmas holiday. In the tradition of my family back home in the States, we also opened presents on Christmas Eve here. It was actually quite fun, seeing how my thoughtful mother sent us a package with a few gifts (ironically, the postage costs more than the actual items inside).

On Christmas Day, we had a nice braii lunch, which is the Swazi equivalent of grilling outside. So yes, this is definitely my first time celebrating the holidays in 90+ degree weather, which is precisely why I bought myself a new fan. This lifesaver may be the best Christmas present I have ever received, of course with the exception of the “Super-Duper-Double-Looper” race track I got when I was five. Come to think of it now, that sucker never worked properly, which is another similarity to my new fan. Oh well. Tee, Eye, Eh.

the family being reallllly happy about presents

Tincomile opening up her gift from America, a DC Nationals sweatshirt. Pretty funny, eh? And how 'bout those sexy white feet at the bottom of the picture? Eh?

I’d like to use this particular blog entry to continue a discussion which I began in post #17. In those paragraphs, I stated that inefficiency in all sectors of African society was one of the primary reasons why this continent has continually been plagued with a lack of development. Unfortunately, my experiences since I wrote that have only further convinced me of its truthfulness.

My reason for addressing this topic once again is that I now believe there is an equally detrimental characteristic of this region which hinders Africans (and others working in Africa) from achieving developmental progress. The culprit to which I am referring is communication, or more specifically the cultural norms and implicit rules that go along with it. Quite frequently the lack of any communication at all is equally problematic.

Before I go any further, let me clear up a nagging question you may have. The things I am referring to both here and in the previous post – namely organizational inefficiency and communication mishaps – are primarily located on the micro-level (individual). This does not mean that I am disregarding the numerous macro-level (societal) problems which have equal or greater validity in explaining Africa’s current predicament. But because I am living and working “on-the-ground” here in Africa, I feel like I am in a better position now to speak on the former issues. When I was at university, the latter topics were my specialty (or at least that’s what my diploma claimed).

For the opinions of a real expert, though, please read the essay entitled “The Conspiracy Against Africa” which can be found here. In it, Gerald Caplan gives one of the most clear and all-encompassing surveys of why Africa is the way it is. And I’m serious when I say it should be required reading for everybody in the world. I need to warn you though, in the first half Caplan writes as though all African problems are caused by Africans themselves, while the second half is an equally-scathing indictment against the West. So as you will come to realize, he’s definitely my kind of author, critical of everything and everyone, with short snippets of optimism and hope interjected every now and then! A fun task for each of you while doing this reading assignment is to find the off-hand remark about Swaziland’s esteemed leader. Post a comment after this post if you do manage to find it. That way I can estimate how many people actually view the links I suggest.

I apologize. That digression went on entirely too long; now back to the main thesis of this post. I believe that existing habits of communication, or the simple lack of it altogether, is a major hindrance to development in Africa (or at least the southern region). Although I think this observation does apply to personal relationships, I am focusing more on communication within and between organizations. What I have come to realize, and many times the hard way, is that most southern Africans are passive-aggressive. They will rarely confront you directly about a problem, but would much rather speak to a third party or simply hold a grudge for as long as possible. Furthermore, there is a widespread understanding that people should not question those in authority, especially in public. Obviously, this mode of communication can frequently undermine accountability mechanisms and problem-solving techniques. It affects everything from family relationships to institutional structures. It is quite debilitating, and it can be emotionally as well as spiritually draining.

I could easily account for you hundreds of times when communication breakdowns were the cause of otherwise easily-remedied situations. Every expat I know struggles with this, but it is not just a case of cultural misunderstandings. My Swazi friends and coworkers also deal with the consequences on a daily basis, but for them it seems as natural as the law of gravity. One solution that I can think of off the top of my head is for this society to be more open to criticism. By this I am mostly referring to constructive criticism, but in some cases, such as when Jesus cleared out the temple, righteous anger or criticism based on social justice is also necessary. People must be able to take criticism and not be severely offended. We must also participate in self-criticism. Nobody is perfect, and with the help of others, we can hopefully become a more sensible community. As you can probably tell with my insinuations that “we” must take the proper steps forward, I am not claiming that the West does a perfect job when it comes to communication. Far from it. But I do think that people in America, which is the only place of which I can claim personal knowledge, is farther along in the process of accepting criticism which leads to reform. I believe that once Africans get over the fear of dealing directly with their problems, instead of using less-effective indirect means, the road to developing their countries will prove much less daunting.

(Concluding Disclaimer: In the spirit of being self-critical, I’d like to admit that there is a very good chance I am wrong in making these claims; both empirically and on a more basic, ethical level. As I have come to realize over time, I am particularly good at offending others, whether on purpose or inadvertently. That is not my intention here. If for some reason – and I’d like to know the reason – you feel I should remove this post, please let me know.)

Added pictures to post 25.
Added link of Obama speech to post 22.
Added picture to post 18.

Craziness. Pure craziness. That’s the best way I can describe the youth camp at which I volunteered to help. (Short disclaimer: I use words like crazy and insane to describe something that is unexpected or simply different, not necessarily good or bad). Around three hundred “youth” were in attendance, comprised of anyone from the ages of 5-30 years old. My two jobs were being the time-keeper and pool lifeguard. As I soon discovered, these seemingly mundane tasks turned out to be quite difficult. All cultural sensitivities aside, it is a well-known fact that African time is very different than Western notions of time. Therefore, in my attempt to gather hundreds of youth at various times of the day, I received my fair share of dirty looks from teenagers or astonished grins from the younger ones. Luckily, I had my best friend Percy MaPhanga as an assistant, and the two of us at work were a sight to see. For pool duty, I tag-teamed that assignment with my buddy Trevor. It was pretty scary for both of us, seeing how so many kids were splashing around, and those with swimming skills were few and far between. We survived, though, as did everyone else under our watch.

Ironically, my duties as a volunteer were not the most difficult aspect of the week. That dubious honor is a tie between the food and the sleeping arrangements. Being at this camp has given me a newfound appreciation for my host-mother’s cooking, similar to the way college food renewed my love for the wonderful Annie Grimes’ menu. With respect to sleeping, the main problem was that there was very little of it. For reasons I have not yet figured out, many African men tend to rise at incomprehensible hours of the morning, sometimes more than three hours before the first planned activity of the day. They also show no hesitation in talking loudly or turning on the lights so that everyone else in the vicinity might share in the wonderful experience of sleep deprivation. Now I may sound slightly bitter about this, but it is mostly because I need to blame something for my short run-ins with a cold and stomach virus.

One positive thing that happened at the camp (and there were many others, don’t get me wrong), was that my friend Mancoba was able to attend. He rarely has the chance to be in this type of group atmosphere, because his family wasn’t able to pay school fees. I’m pretty sure he enjoyed himself. So at least it was a good Christmas for Mancoba.

As for my Christmas, it’s still mostly up in the air. I’ve decided to spend it with my host-family, but what they will do with the time is as much a mystery to me as why Swazi men wake up before the birds do.

The final week at the office was everything I expected it to be. Too much stress and too little sleep. Like I said before, it turned out to be quite similar to exam time at university. So I obviously was ready for a break, and the MCC regional retreat in Zambia turned out to be the perfect get-away.

The other Swazi workers and I first drove to Johannesburg in South Africa. The city is enormous, and some of the wealthier areas could rival anything seen in the rest of the world. This fact is especially disturbing to me, though, considering the widespread poverty of the majority of South Africans. To get an idea of the magnitude of this problem, imagine American inequality times ten. It really is sad and upsetting. We only stayed one night, so we weren’t able to do much.

From Jo’burg, we flew to Livingstone, Zambia. This was a short detour to see Victoria Falls, and it was well worth the time. In fact, it was one of the best vacation/tourist experiences of my life. Let me explain why. First off, just viewing the waterfall itself is a beautiful thing. The scenery is incredible and we were there at the perfect time of year when the falls are powerful enough to impress but not too vast that all you see is a cloud of mist rising from the bottom.

soooo amazing

Quick aside: Vic Falls has quite a few monkeys that run around the site, apparently with the sole purpose of terrorizing unsuspecting tourists. And of course, yours truly fell prey to their wily schemes. I had just bought some tasty peanuts from a kiosk when one of the ugly monkeys (you know, the ones with the red butts) started chasing me. Since this determined animal was not going to take no for an answer, I threw my precious bag of peanuts at him in order to satisfy his greedy nature. This was done with complete disregard for the numerous signs stating not to feed the monkeys. Below is the picture to prove it.

evil monkey

The Zambezi River was not at its highest volume, which allowed us to actually walk across the top and literally stand over the waterfall. We paid a local Zambian dude to lead us, since what we were doing would be considered dangerous in any country. The culmination of this exhilarating hike through the river and above the falls was an isolated water hole in which we were able to swim and relax.

zambian dude = awesome tour guide

pool of incredibleness

That night, we went on a great sunset cruise which doubled as a water safari. According to the boat captain, we also crossed into Zimbabwe territory, since the river serves as a natural border for the two countries. And to add to the excitement, we were fortunate enough to be accompanied by a group of drunk Irish who graciously provided the entertainment for the night. Cheers to Dublin and the wonderful Guinness Factory!

zambezi river

hip...hip...hip-hop-anonymous! (you should only be laughing at this if you know where this quote comes from

After visiting Vic Falls, we flew across the country to the capital city of Lusaka. The actual retreat was held nearby at a very nice campsite, which provided very nice food. I was able to meet the rest of the MCC workers in the Southern African region. All of them are terrific people. Two individuals in particular were especially interesting to me, though. Both are currently involved with peace work in Zimbabwe. Because of this, I was able to hear first-hand accounts concerning the desperate situation people are facing in that country. The fact that this political and economic crisis has been going on for so long is a strong indictment against the passivity of world governments and even the global church. A creative Christian response to issues of this magnitude has been envisioned by a friend of mine. During the formation of this movement, it has gone through a number of interesting names, such as Eucharism, Freedom from Fear, Conscientious Action, and now the Mennonite Transnational Peace Service. For more information on this unique idea, visit the website by clicking here.

So now I am back in Swaziland, and this coming week I will be volunteering at a youth camp. It should be fun. As always, I’ll let you know how it went in my next update.

December 1st is a day when people from all different countries around the world gather together to remember the 25 million lives lost to HIV/AIDS (the majority being from sub-Saharan Africa). It is also a time to show solidarity with the 33 million people who are currently living with the virus (23 million in sub-Saharan Africa). Lastly, it is a chance to collectively push for change in such areas as personal lifestyles, social understanding, and government policy.

The night before I gathered with friends (both Swazi and American) for a candlelight vigil service where Christian leaders spoke about confronting this epidemic in a manner befitting the church. As is the case in much of America, Swazi churches have increasingly accepted the responsibility to help those around them who are suffering, no matter what the cause of that suffering may be. Unfortunately, progress is slow. I came to Africa with a propensity to always look at the cup half empty. I can’t say that being here so far has changed my outlook. I truly want to be optimistic about the world around me, but it is very difficult being in the situation I find myself. Let me illustrate this idea further.

During the vigil, which was being held outside, there was an ever so slight wind rustling through the air. Therefore, whenever someone was trying to light a candle, it would either last only a few seconds before being blown out, or simply not light at all. I could not help but notice the similarities between this futile act and the fight against AIDS in this region. Like the candles, so many new ideas or policies or whatever are snuffed out (or proved ineffective) as time goes on. So what then are we supposed to do? I know for sure that giving up is not the correct answer. Christians have to be in this fight for the long haul. Maybe the answer is to think of new ways in doing “development.” That’s exactly what my friends did at the vigil; they thought of a new way. Instead of scrapping the whole candle-lighting routine, which is what I might have been tempted to do, they had all the attendees move indoors with their candles and simply turned off the lights. Wa-la, problem solved! Now if only curing AIDS and solving extreme global poverty were equally as simple.

On Saturday morning, we all woke up early in order to participate in the national march. Wearing matching t-shirts with catchy slogans galore, we walked in solidarity to show others that the future doesn’t necessarily have to be worse than the present. There can actually be hope amidst the darkness. I guess that’s what candlelight vigils are really all about.

i have no idea who those white girls are.

use your Where's Waldo skills to pick me out of the crowd. the dude next to me is Percy. some girl made him carry a pink bag for the whole march. he's my hero.

marching down the main highway in the country

One novel which I had been interested in reading ever since hearing about it was Beasts of No Nation by Uzodinma Iweala. The author is a recent graduate of Harvard and the book is about the life of a child-soldier in Africa. It is told from a first-person perspective, which makes the story all the more harrowing and deeply affecting. Even though I am glad I read it, I wouldn’t recommend it to many people. The reality it depicts is definitely true to life, and for this reason it is extremely brutal and graphic.

Currently, my reading dose of theology is coming from two of the most outspoken academics against war, namely John Howard Yoder and Stanley Hauerwas. With respect to the former, I am reading The Politics of Jesus, which is turning out to be quite an adventure. Yoder is usually considered the most important Mennonite theologian of the twentieth century, and seeing how I am working for MCC, I figured that I needed to familiarize myself with his work. Sometimes it is hard to follow his line of thinking, and many of his arguments seem a bit of a stretch. Even so, I find myself agreeing on an emotional and practical level, whereas convincing my mind may prove to be a harder task. The material that is packed into this volume is staggering, although it does not match the extent of the other book I am reading, The Hauerwas Reader. This is an enormous collection of essays by Stanley Hauerwas, covering a wide range of topics such as politics, war, healthcare, and disability. I am thoroughly enjoying it so far, partially because Hauerwas’ opinions and ideas are a breath of fresh air, but also because he is so controversial to the status quo of Christian ethical thought. His tagline is as follows: “I want the Catholics to be more Anabaptist, the Anabaptists to be more Catholic, and the Protestants to be both.”

Concerning movies, there are only two recent ones that I’ve seen that are worth commenting about. One is called The Painted Veil starring the amazing Edward Norton. It was very good. Apparently the story is based on a novel by Somerset Maugham, so I don’t know how it compares to the book. But what I do know is that it’s probably the most convincing portrayal of how two people can learn to love each other more through their experiences than any superficial qualities they might initially share in common.

The second movie that I want to comment on is very hard to describe. One critic apparently said: “It is the most thought-provoking bad movie I've ever seen.” The film is called Idiocracy, brought to us by the comic genius Mike Judge (creator of Office Space). Luke Wilson plays the main character in a future society where everything and everyone are ridiculously stupid. Yes, it is crude and painful to watch, but the social commentary implicit in this film is more redeeming than most of the garbage out there today.

As always, I will leave you with a short list of music that matters:
The Roots, Jimmy Eat World, Johnny Cash, Evan and Jaron, Mewithoutyou, Rob Thomas, Brazil, Robbie Williams, Brandtson, Future of Forestry, The Kooks, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, De La Soul, Jabukhanyile, and Zola (these last two are from S.Africa)