Diamonds and Dust

We went to see a musical at the Barnyard Theater called "Diamonds and Dust" and it was beautiful. The pictures don't do it justice and the soundtrack CD I bought is in no way the same as listening to those voices in person. During one song I actually got the chills from a lady that sang her heart out. Some songs made me want to cry and others filled me with so much joy I didn't know what to do with it.

The title is perfect and the speech the host gave towards the end really summed up the purpose of the musical. It was a musical that ran through the history of South African music and told the story of how this country has found diamonds in the middle of dust and how the people have responded to life through music.

South Africa is often called "The Land of Contrasts". That nickname makes more sense to me every day and I don't know how to respond to it. There's so much suffering, but there's so much joy. The gap between the rich and the poor is so obvious and there are all kinds of animals. You can watch the discovery show on sharks from a well-ventilated, fancy Durban hotel room one hour and then go out to the beach and watch those sharks the next hour.

It's only been two months, but it's felt like so long and, at the same time, it's gone by so fast. What am I going to do when I go home? How am I supposed to go back to a normal life after all I've seen and done here? Ali has been to South Africa before and she was sharing with us how frustrating it was to go back home because no one fully knows what you've been through. Even now that we're here and people ask us, "how's Africa?" none of us really know how to answer because there's really no simply response to that question.

As I reflected on that musical, I realized how difficult it is to explain to people that I see suffering every day. I can sit in a playground in Haniville with dozens of children that are smiling and hugging me, but then I realize that the scars they have aren't just from falling off the swing, they're scars caused by the HIV virus, scars that mean that child might not live past their teens. Monday morning some of the guys from Haniville came to our chapel and it was easy to see them as people that live a similar lifestyle as ours, but today I walked through Haniville and saw the houses those guys live in and I didn't know how to react to it. When they visit us they see the comfortable chalets, the indoor bathrooms, the easily available bottles of water, and the kitchen filled with food. When I visit them I see the houses made of mud, the outdoor bathroom that looks like a shed, the hose they drink from and fetch water from, and the small crops that provide them with meals.

When I explain this to others I know the first reaction is probably pity. There's that old saying when someone doesn't finish their food that goes, "there's starving children in Africa that would love to eat that", but the truth is they wouldn't love to eat that. They think our food is strange and they think Americans eating apples with peanut butter is gross. They like eating putu and bread. They like eating their food and they don't need pity. Sure, they need help, but they have great potential and, if they can just be given the right encouragement and education, they can be empowered to improve their communities every day. The answer to poverty is not charity and just because they live in poverty doesn't mean they don't have a reason to live. There is suffering, but there's so much joy. Every time I see those guys, they're making jokes and smiling. Snesh, Tesh, Jabula, and Sikhle have provided so much entertainment for us while we're in Walk in the Light because they're constantly making us laugh and they come up with dance moves that are ridiculous, but kind of impressing. Sindi and Sipho talk to us about how we don't need boys because girls can be single and still enjoy life and the Gogos have shown us that a community has to care for one another and always help each other out. The children have been so open and show us so much love that it's hard to say goodbye to them at the end of the day.

How can I explain to you what I'm seeing here and what I'm learning? How can I go back home and continue growing with what I've gotten out of this experience? Nelson Mandela says, "once you have tasted the waters of Africa, you will always be thirsty until you come back for more". My trip hasn't just been joyful. It's been horrible to have to deal with sickness, allergies, bugs and pestering monkeys, emotional tragedies through the suffering I see every day, and the overall stress of it all. I have days when I get so frustrated and I feel so helpless and selfish. My trip is too complicated to explain and it'll take me so much time to process everything, but it's been good.

I just ask for patience because when someone asks me, "how was Africa?" I'll probably just say good because I won't have the energy or the time to explain it all, but it's so much more than good.