"Christmas Card"

A few years ago my brother came across an image and sent it to all of us near Christmas. Ever year and especially this year as I reflect on walls and migration this image comes to mind. The image is sold on a card by the Coalition for Justice and Peace in Palestine.

but that it is a tool to rebuild communities

My last semester of college I attempted to do a study of poetry in social justice movements. Needless to say I loved it and wrote a few reflections pieces in response. I was looking for some poetry to send to a friend and came across this from my final. I also thought the Harjo quote was fitting.

Harjo "contends that poetry is not only a way to save the sanity of those who have been oppressed to the point of madness, but that it is a tool to rebuild communities and, ultimately, change the world: 'All acts of kindness are lights in the war for justice.'”
-Publisher’s Weekly, Review of Joy Harjo’s How We Become Human




Living Definition

define social justice:

then do we start with cruelty,
or dignity?

must we characterize power,
or first, deprivation?

should we delineate ethics
or equality?

have we explored who it’s defined for,
or could it be universal?

do we denote law,
or value?

define social justice:

can you open up a dictionary,
or what about your heart?

will you describe what words designate,
or can you illustrate?

won’t you assign something for society,
or for yourself?

is it ascertained for the broken,
or forgotten by your guilt?

do you have a basis to comprehend,
or will you miss our translations?

define social justice:

because your definition must be alive,
or our ink will fade…

Our Wish This Christmas

This Tuesday as I drove down a road from the highway, I wondered how much further I had to go and why people were driving so fast on a two lane road with no lights. I slowly came into the town and then followed my phone google maps to the church.

From my conversation with the Pastor I knew to expect that I would have no idea what exactly I was going to be doing until the moment I was doing it. Luckily I have had a lot of practice with that. In fact as I walked into the Haitian revival service, it reminded me of some of the services I miss form my time in other countries. So it may have been my first time in an all Creole environment, but it was still familiar.

It was a special children's service and just so genuine and sweet I truly was honored to be there. The Pastor wanted me to introduce Justice for Our Neighbors, because our new Lakeland clinic will be able to serve people from the congregation. The Pastor also wanted to take part in "A Wish for the Holidays: That all Families be Able to Stay Together." (A project of We Belong Together.) So after the service I went back with all the children and we talked some about parents in other countries and deportation. Then they wrote to President Obama and Congress. It was amazing to me how much a connection the children got and how well the ones with parents still in Haiti took it.

So I wanted to share some letters with you:

Bishop Whitaker's Intro

Ornella, age 9, from First Hispanic Kissimmee UMC

I also wanted to share the Bishop's Introduction for our JFON Florida Advent Devotional:

As the church prepares for the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ at Bethlehem when the heavenly host of angels announced peace on earth, you are invited to prepare for Christmas by using this Justice For Our Neighbors Advent Devotional. The devotions in this book will enable you to see more clearly how our relationship to our immigrant neighbors is connected to our life as disciples of Jesus Christ, whose own birth occurred during a journey that had to take place because of the decrees of the government.

The church has been called by God to show hospitality to strangers ever since the time of the apostles. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews wrote, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2).

The author of Hebrews was thinking of the story of Abraham who showed hospitality to three men who were angels of the Lord (Genesis 18:1-8). In Orthodox iconography, these three angels are depicted as messengers of the triune God.

The hospitality Abraham demonstrated toward strangers became a characteristic mark of the people of Israel to whom God was revealed as the One “who loves the strangers, giving them food and clothing” (Deuteronomy 10:18). The church, which worships the God of Israel who sent Jesus to be the Messiah, is also called to show hospitality to strangers as a sign of God’s love for them.

Why would God call God’s people to demonstrate hospitality to strangers whom we today call immigrants?

The context for this divine direction for God’s people is the story of the tumult of humankind throughout history. In all times people have left familiar places for a better home. Often they have left because of wars, oppression, persecution, poverty, famine, and climate change. In other words, human suffering has always been a main motivation for migration. In this world of suffering, God’s people are called to be witnesses to God’s compassion for those who are pushed around by the tragic forces of history and nature.

Many of the immigrants to America are a part of this larger story of migration because of human suffering. We too are called today to show hospitality to strangers by our welcome, our practical help, and our advocacy on their behalf. In answering this call we may discover that they are the angels of God, the messengers to us of the love of the triune God who is present with them and who has pledged his commitment to their cause according to divine revelation in both the Old and New Testaments. As the stories of Jesus’ infancy indicate, God’s revelation to the world came through Jesus Christ who was born in Bethlehem on a journey coerced by the government and whose family had to migrate to Egypt to escape threats to their security. If God’s supreme revelation occurred in this Jesus, then we should expect to find God’s presence with our neighbors who are immigrants today.

-Bishop Timothy Whitaker

Advent

(by Laura, our Attorney's daughter, age 12)

As you know my job is to support education and advocacy movement around immigration with JFON. Doing this within the church has some obvious links I really enjoy. And at some point the idea of an Advent Devotional seemed important. So much of how we get to real dialogue is through stories. The links seemed so clear to me, a journey, being registered, people begging for mercy from God, and through all of that a path for hope.

But I think the most important reason for the JFON Advent Devotional was the variety of perspectives become come to JFON with. Its not one type of person who volunteers or one reason people become passionate for justice for migrants. But in some ways I think it is important for people involved with JFON to remember how their call and spirit is tied to their service. And on hard days its good to know I am connected to all these people and all these stories no matter how different each of our introductions are.

Please download and share to journey with JFON this Advent.


JFON Advent Devotional


JFON Advent Booklet

Blessings for a thoughtful journey,
Hannah

Hymns

Every once in a while I highlight a song on this blog. I really should have highlighted more songs we sang in South Africa and DRC. I realize how much I miss the much more daily singing and praise and dancing in South Africa. I realize this most when I am in a large group of people singing.

But when it comes to United Methodist hymns or hymns Methodist sing a lot things strike a cord with me. Blessed Assurance was the first song at the United Methodist Women District Annual Meeting I am at right now. It is actually not my favorite tune, but I have heard it in so many languages now that memories flow as it is played.

Then a choir sang "We are Called" which has a special place in my heart from singing around the piano at Dumbarton UMC with the people who taught me what being called met. I love the song, and the energy it is sung with there. At a conference in DRC I realized singing was the way to engage people. So in front of 500 people cut my presentation a little short to sing We Are Called in front of the entire room. It is moments like that I know I am not acting alone, but am lead. Or a bit crazy.

Today we also had communion. The last song the leader started was "One Bread, One Body". The message is one I think we need constant reminding of. But also it makes me feel safe and at peace. The sing reminds me what I am connected to. And as the others the places of home I have sung it.

And then towards the end of the session we sang "Hymn of Promise". Part of the reason hymns are important to me is the connection to my Grandmother Mary Lou Hanson. I believe she is the root of my being Methodist. There were other family members before her, and my parents decisions, and some really great United Methodists I grew up with and work with. (there are also other things more connected to beliefs, but that is for a different more complex discussion).

My grandmother died 7 1/2 years ago and my Dad decided to have "Hymn of Promise" sung at her funeral. I remember wanting some other song, that today I can't remember. It was an interesting time for me in understanding my identity as a women in our family and the strength my Grandmother had. The words of the song are written on the wall of my room in my Dad and Janes house. (One of the only times I remember getting away with writing on the wall. )

So when I hear the song I remember home and my Grandmother.

and especially as with all these hymns

I imagine my grandmother singing them

And I lift my voice in song.

October

I love fall on the east coast (of the US). This far south where we have days that still reach 90 degrees (though we are really moving into the 80's) aren't quite the same. Some in Florida swear to a difference in the air, but the signs of change are very small. From what I can tell there is only one tree near me that has bits of colors changing.

Then thinking I won't get to see all the fall colors, I am struck by the sunset one night. So stop to take in the colors from a parking lot.

DREAMers and Organizers

My friend Mayra, who inspires me and pushes us all to do more. Check out a local article on her below.


Again in my last blog the crux of the issues is human suffering (and its human suffering in our neighborhoods) and an attack on human dignity. I know I should be more careful or provide better explanation.

But instead let’s talk about something that gives me energy. I said I worked with some incredible people. As we are in the last few days of the DREAM Sabbath, I am inspired by the small things I have seen happening as DREAMers tell their stories. I am inspired as I see interest and care grow in groups I was unsure would really listen. In Africa I wrote a few times on the importance of sharing stories and how it was asked that everyone (all) shared stories. My friend Lucas was speaking to my young adult group and someone thanked him for sharing his story. He eloquently responded with gratitude and that they all had stories of such important worth as well. Its moments like this all my “lives” connect, the same themes are necessary.

When I speak about HIV, I explain how my journey with stigmas and fears developed. I did not think I really had any, until I realized the day when I truly did not care or question what your HIV status was. Of course I would care if you share anything with me or need something. But a person’s identity is not a disease.
The same has happened here. I was driving some friends one day. They were asking me questions about South Africa and as I got into the conversation, I realized due to their immigration status they would not be able to travel to South Africa until something changed, or maybe ever. It wasn’t this moment I really thought about the difference of driving and depending on what state we were in their status really does make a difference in whether I drive them or not – legally. I do not change, and they do not change as people if we are driving and cross a state line.

As my friends who have been working on the DREAM Act are baffled that it hasn’t been passed yet, I start to feel old. Or maybe more excepting of a reality that shouldn’t be there. Or know that while they are organizing like veterans of this moment, there are others that have been in it over 10 years. I am still inspired that the people I learn from in terms of organizing weren’t even 10 when the DREAM Act was first proposed. (I think community organizing is the best part of my job, and it is only a very small part.) Not that age is a big thing, just startling sometimes when you are in a Board meeting and someone who seems your age and in the grand scheme of things is, but they share they are 17.

So let me stop rambling and share a story of my friend Mayra with you.


http://www.theledger.com/article/20111002/NEWS/111009877?tc=cr

Burn Out or angry together

Someone recently asked me if I was getting burned out. He was very sincere and was reacting to my explanation of my job and the legal and social difficulties facing immigrants in Florida. I laughed to myself, because at 25 if I was burnt out after 6 months in a job I would be a little concerned. I also know burnout is just not an option or letting an situation get hopeless. I respect too many mentors or people that I have studied that even in the coldest and darkest places pull through.

Back to my situation, some days things are frustrating. When I first got here I would get so frustrated (but always hid behind a smile) when people wouldn’t listen to what I was saying or would justify inaction. At this point, I have calmed down a bit and take more seriously meeting people where they are. I am less offended when people put me in my place as a young woman, even when if they just listened they would learn something. I appreciate the opportunity for any discussion much more now. Some days maybe I do not push enough because I want to make absolutely sure I am being respectful, especially to pastors I meet with. But somehow and sometimes in places I least expect it, I am with groups who are so genuine and sincere. Maybe they are genuine about their own point of view, or in an ability to ask good questions and learn, or they have their own migration story they share. Those days I learn a lot and am extremely thankful for an honest point of conversation. Those days make me remember to leave my preconceptions at the door, because maybe someone else’s preconceptions aren’t what I think.

I get frustrated when I meet really interesting people who we can’t do anything for in the legal system. This would probably be where the man’s comment of burnout came from, as it gets the most personal of the frustrations. Some days it is heartbreaking, but some days facing reality is. In fact some situations make me angry, especially when it is young people just trying to find a way to act with integrity. But when I am with people, I am generally happiest. Even when one problem can’t be solved, we find a space to talk and laugh and share. Maybe that sounds horrible, that a human face and stories we can do nothing about doesn’t make me angrier. I guess it is that I am rarely frustrated directly at the client and as I have written about before, its heartwarming to see a group of strangers become a cross-cultural community in an evening. And if I start feeling helpless or hopeless, how can I ask anyone else to act. At the end of the day under all the forms and fees and borders and expired licenses and raids, at the end of the day under all of that is a place for hope and for smart action.

And about 6 months in I think the best part when I do get really angry or frustrated – is I have some good people to do it with. I may not have a large group of friends here, but I have some incredible colleagues. Some who have long journeys with a change of heart or experience. Some who have worked hard and been very secretive about their lives. And some who have found strength in not being so scared and publicly talking about their status. Some who are finding creative ways to bring everyone to the table. Some who are passionate about justice, and some who are just tired.

I think if we are going to be angry or if we are going to try to find hope, it is much better to do it together. It can help protect against burn out and ensure we use all that emotion to get somewhere.

VA Bishops Convocation on Immigration Oct. 1st

As some of you know (who are in the Methodist circles) I grew up part of the Baltimore Washington Conference and the Virginia Conference of the United Methodist Church. I am very excited and sorry I will not be at 'home' to attend Bishop Kammerer's Convocation in Manasas. I hope there will be powerful discussion and transformation at this event and for the Virginia Annual Conference. I have much gratitude for all planning and attending this event. What a great way to start October and conincide with DREAM Sabbath.

Many of you who read this blog are in the area for the event this Saturday, so please check below for more information. And who ever is there, let me know what you learn.

GBCS Faith in Action Article

Click here for Brochure for Bishop's Convocation on Immigration

In memory of Wangari Maathai

‎"In the course of history, there comes a time when humanity is called to shift to a new level of consciousness, to reach a higher moral ground. A time when we have to shed our fear and give hope to each other. That time is now." ~ WANGARI MAATHAI

What a powerful quote for all the issues we are working on and community. And what an example of how we can stand for environmental justice, human rights and peace at the same time. And how each are linked. A very powerful "Mad" Woman role model and leader. (The below article references her being called a Mad woman, I do nto agree with how the sentiment at that time was used.)

For more on Wangari Maathai:
NY Times article, "First African Woman to Win the Nobel Peace Prize Dies"

Or search and many other articles are available from this week.

(Thanks for bringing this quote to my attention Paz)

Labor of Love

I was invited to write a brief piece in conjunction with GCORR's 'Labor of Love' the Labor Day.

Feel free to read and if you haven't yet take the pledge to Drop the I-Word. If you have, invite 5 friends to take the pledge. Along with thinking about how we talk about other people and words that refer to people, remember all the work that sustains the way we live and all the hands that contribute.

"In March, a friend invited me to pledge not to use the phrase "illegal immigrant.” I understood why that was important and I truly believe a person’s identity cannot be illegal. Real transformation for me, however, began when I invited other people in my community to join the pledge with me. One small word sparked hours of discussion about our perceptions and misunderstandings and our stories of migration.

I recently met two young men graduating from high school that are part of a local church's youth group. They were realistically concerned about their options because although the United States is home to them, they did not have the documents that would allow them to go to college or get a driver’s license. Strong young men that grew up in the church were looking for a way forward with integrity. And the saddest part for me was they could not go talk to the adults in their own church about it due to anti-immigrant.

As a church, I do not think we intend to use words that keep people we may know and love in the shadows. Sometimes I think we miss seeing how connected we all are in God’s Kingdom. Today, I invite you to join in signing the "Drop the I-Word" pledge with me. Take a minute to think every time you hear people being referred to as illegal. Take a moment to think of the people and stories that are overlooked when we use that word. For me, that one moment of thought is what makes dropping one small word transformative."

Have a good weekend!
Hannah

Picture from a clinic

Every month we have another JFON clinic in Orlando.  For me as for most in my position this is a highlight of each month, because this is where community meets and takes place.  A few months in I am learning the ropes and the stories of our volunteers.  Sometimes the logistics and sorting out little problems take a few minutes, but then something starts to happen.

This month our clients waiting to see the attorney had stories they wanted to share.  I sat listening to one man while holding another women's 2 week old granddaughter.  I laughed with other volunteers as the hospitality coordinator encouraged people to eat more ice cream.  And for one man from a different country we had to assure him multiple times that Root Beer was not actually beer and contained no alcohol, and we sat with him as he tried it for the first time.  (I couldn't convince him to try a root beer float )

And as the evening wore on and one client waited on her ride home and another to see the attorney something happened.  It wasn't just a conversation between the volunteer and a client.  It was a conversation between all of us.  The whole room was connected through food and time and a basic understanding in something we cared about.

One client was playing the piano in the room of this church.  And then the playing changed a little and I looked over.  The client didn't look like he was playing but I still heard noise.  He pointed down and I realized another clients two year old was playing with the man.  Two people many years different in age, very different in country of origin, in color of their skin, in language,  in culture… 

But happily playing the piano together.

And that's the picture I got to go home with in the midst of all the stories I heard that night.  

"Once social change begins, it cannot be reversed. You cannot uneducate the person who has learned to read. You cannot humiliate the person who feels pride. You cannot oppress the people who are not afraid anymore."

– Cesar Chavez

I think I do my reflecting at the grocery store

Many people come back to USA from abroad and are overwhelmed by the grocery store. This is generally an initial reaction and I have found myself reflecting on this a few months later with a different reaction. A family friend was filling me in on some South African stores before I initially left. She said you can pretty much get anything in South Africa you can get here, but sometimes you will find it in a different type of store.

In my memory now I don’t focus on the early times we couldn’t find something, and that was for the most part trying to cook thanksgiving dinner in the opposite season. But we learned who to ask or where to find it.

Now being back I guess I struggle with it again. Part of this could be due to more regional stores, whereas most any city in South Africa had the same chain store or an open market place. I am surprised by the local farmers markets here. Partly due to the season, but there is much less produce then I would assume in Florida and many are just distributers for Farmers. (Maybe that is easier than the long row of stands down Church Street in Joburg where we would pick and choose from different sellers.)

Now in the land of plenty in my local grocery store last week I couldn’t find feta. I finally did find a little pre crumbled package. (It is a smaller store, but at any major store in a city in South Africa I could find it. Maybe not in a township) It’s not a fair direct comparison, but I spent another 20 minutes just walking around the grocery store, with too many options I just didn’t really want. I knew I wouldn't find ostrich, but I wanted pro-vita crackers and feta and the type of cranberry apple cinnamon tea I like. I am sure I can find substitutes, but I don’t remember missing things this way in South Africa. Trying to satisfy three different people, with different diets, all trying to be polite in the grocery store was often a stressful challenge first in South Africa. So it’s funny to write about it, but once you get past the shopping it’s about food that becomes meals and is shared.

I think it’s more that I had a system; I had everyday life figured out. And as I rebuild trying to do that again some days there are road blocks. I guess it’s just the transition to find the things I like again.

So some days I spend twenty extra minutes in the grocery store imagining what Lucille and I would get excited cooking. Or I call my dad asking what kind of mustard I like. (In fact I think I have talked to every immediate family member via text or on the phone in the store in the last two months).

And I check all the teas just in case one will be close enough.

reflection 2

Reflection on Mathew 25

all.

I have struggled with the word all. a lot lately. or maybe more what I perceive to be people's understanding of the word all. maybe all adults should have another elementary school lesson on the definition of all and a few other seemingly simple words.

so I have questioned what all means. and after the 4th, how truly to we stand behind "all created equal"

I think some use all when they are advocating for one excluded group, but who is the all behind all the people you care about, all your friends, all the people you can see?

instead of continuing I will leave you with a word cloud. Many thanks to my friend Ethan for introducing me to www.wordle.net/



(I have made a few others off of blogs, and a few on some verses i still have to post. one for blog on Jan 1st and the other when I blogged about never being called a stranger. Feel free to click on those and check them out.)

Our flag. Our independence. Our celebrations. Our liberty. Our freedom. Our perseverance. Our hard work. Our community. Our justice...

This July 4th I see it a little differently. I like celebrating July 4th, because I believe in all those things outlined all those many years ago. To imagine what it must of felt like to have a Declaration of Independence. To struggle for something you believe in so strongly and to know the rises and the falls of the struggle. I can resonate with some of that from my own passions and involvement in movements. But this was a whole country being born!

I liked celebrating with my friends growing up. It was like every year was a bit more of our own independence journey together, and the fireworks and watermellon and running through the rain were a lot of fun too.

There are so many things to celebrate about this country. But sometimes I struggle with our flag. It is this symbol that for many is all strong. But for me it is also a symbol of all the things I struggle with in America. I often wonder why I appreciate the beauty so much of other flags, but struggle with the one tied to my nationality. I guess by being a citizen, while I get to respect it I also get to be critical. And I celebrate that as a privilege this 4th of July. And I see the privilege of this country casting a great responsibility that we do not always uphold with the virtues of freedom and justice in mind.

However, my perspective on the flag is changing as I see it through the eyes of others. Working with Justice For Our Neighbors, I know our clients see the flag differently. The flag represents a freedom I cannot fully comprehend, it represents opportunity. For children that have grown up here it means home. And in a school yard it flies over all our heads. For new citizens it means something I cannot comprehend, so I should being quoting those in our community that do.

That shadow that casts down from the American flag is grand and wide, and represents how we started and all the parts that make us up. That is our flag with all the different stories that fall under its shadow.

symbols are about how we see them, what they mean, what stories they tell, and how we use them...

thank you to each of you that help me understand this better.

Define American

Pulitzer Prize winning Journalist, Jose Antonio Vargas wrote an important article a few weeks ago for the New York Times. I am sure many of you have seen it, if not click here. It is a different kind of coming out story. He is now working on a project to Define American. See more here

This is exciting work for me as my current work is right in the same line. How do we have a genuine conversation on immigration? How do we dialogue? (Haven't quite gotten there yet in Orlando, but definitely meeting some good caring people, that are learning a lot fast.)

But I was posting this somewhere and read the last line again. It hit me now living in Disneyworld country. all over the world it's acceptable to dream about mickey... what other dreams are acceptable?

"My mother told me I was excited about meeting a stewardess, about getting on a plane. She also reminded me of the one piece of advice she gave me for blending in: If anyone asked why I was coming to America, I should say I was going to Disneyland."

For Our Neighbors

After 2 weeks of traveling to conferences (that I was actually quite impressed with). I came straight back into work as we had our Orlando Clinic on Tuesday night, and both the national attorney and our new attorney were overlapping.

We have clinics one a month in the areas we serve so potential clients can meet with the attorney. They are held in churches so we can also offer hospitality and so there is a possibility of linking to a community. The clinic is really the only place volunteers meet clients, as so much is done between the client and the attorney in confidentiality. Some people our attorney can serve, help with filing paperwork or represent. Others do not have a legal pathway at this point, and can only be advised. This free advice is very important though, because unfortunately there are a lot of people who charge a lot of money pretending to do something that cannot be done.

A. I was happy to spend a little time with both attorneys. I am excited by our new JFON attorney in Florida and even more so because she seems interested in outreach to the community. This will make working together really great and it will be easier to achieve the whole mission of JFON. She is very dedicated and from what I can see (and understand) I respect her work. Also just having someone else in the office is mutually beneficial for us.

B. I like clinics. I love spending time with people and for right now its really my only set up venue for education. This week I was giving information on the DREAM Act as the hearing in the Senate had happened that day and nationally we were pushing to get the house to hold a hearing by calling in out support of the DREAM Act.

Now all of these things are important to share, but its hearing peoples stories and showing solidarity that is the best.

One family had called a few times during the day for directions. They said we they were in Orlando at 3pm. I was a little worried about them waiting, but explained the clinic did not start til 5pm and there would be no one there before then. The woman said they were coming from far and wanted to make sure they got to Orlando in plenty of time to find everything.

(I think at every clinic I have been to at least one family has come from over 3 hours for a chance to talk to an attorney.)

At the end of the evening I was trying to give them extra fruit to take for their journey. They explained they were staying in Orlando for the night, because they did not feel as safe driving in the dark. So I told them to take it for breakfast. I had no idea if the attorney was even able to help them.

Then as I was saying goodbye to a volunteer the family said goodbye as well. They had not planned to stay in Orlando, our volunteer must have heard their story and invited them to stay with her for the night. So all three women left with out volunteer, who had humbly provided even more hospitality. I would have never known of her providing for her neighbor had I not been in the room at that moment. She asked for no recognition, but simply made sure people that had just come into her life had a safe place to stay.

Moments like that make me proud to work where I do.

Moments like that make me remember what we are called to do.

Moments like that make me believe it is possible for a positive change to come.

we can't all do everything, but we can all do something.

blessing and hopefully,
Hannah

reflection

She asked me to walk with her to an appointment with another community group. We didn’t have any work transportation and it was against the culture and I guess wisdom to walk alone. Especially as a woman. So if we needed to go somewhere for work or to buy lunch we asked someone else to join. I often enjoyed the buddy system time, but some days it was hot or there was other work to do.

But I had never gone anywhere with her so I said yes. We were talking about things and I mentioned we had no mirrors where we were staying. (Living in three different places we went from no mirrors, to an awkward amount of too many mirrors, to no mirrors again). It is interesting the things you stop paying attention to with mirrors, but I mentioned it none the less.

We worked in a church where some people were a little better off and I figured someone would have an old mirror lying around or in a room they didn’t use too much. She seemed concerned and asked if I would like her to find a mirror maybe from a friend. I didn’t want to inconvenience her and new she was struggling to make ends meet with time and money. I explained I was only looking for something to borrow for a few months and then would give it back before I left South Africa.

She stopped walking and said no you couldn’t give it back. If someone gave you a mirror it would be a gift to you. You couldn’t give it back.

I didn’t want something new or really a gift, but to borrow something that would be useful to someone again. Our debate continued, even though I had started by just making conversation. I explained I couldn’t really bring a mirror home with me, it would break in a suitcase.

She finally said well you could give it to someone else who needed it, but it would be an insult if you gave something back to the person who gave it to you.

I understood her point. The next day, she told me to take the white bad in the staff room. It was for me. I figured out she didn’t want to bring attention to it or talk about it at work. When I got home I opened her present that was carefully wrapped in newspaper. It was a piece of mirror about the size of a piece of paper.

Sitting on the sink in the bathroom it was still hard to hold to be too useful. And people often asked why it was there or told me to be careful with the edge. I hadn’t intended on a joke about mirrors becoming my gift, a reminder, a lesson. So to me the sharp edge of a mirror didn’t make it trash or dangerous, it was a gift and the connection of our stories.

In Zulu her name means gift. Nosipho.

Ministry With*

Check out the United Methodist Churches new website
Ministry With*

This is their video:


Thanks United Methodist Board of Global Ministries and United Methodist Woman

fair or just?

Yesterday I was at a planning meeting for a 1st-8th grade summer camp that will focus on justice at a local church this summer. They really have some great ideas, it is centered around Micah 6:8, and I am coming to speak on the “walk humbly” day. (If you have any ideas for the 1st-4th graders for my hour session of time to be engaging, send them on over)

This team of adults was really excited to engage with these young people in exploring their spirituality and the call to justice. Smart people were coming up with these ideas but something didn’t sit right. It was thoughtful and real, but fair and just were in a different context.

Yes there is something to learn when one group of children get all the expensive toys and other children don’t get any and the reasons behind it. Seems unjust and unfair, the kids will understand this based on the activity and maybe can start thinking about it.

But then is justice and fairness all the children getting all the really expensive toys? Is that what we all want to work for?

I encouraged that we just focus on toys, instead of one group getting toys and the other picking up trash. While the realities of wealth may come into play in certain exercises, we need to be careful of the value judgments we make. I have seen other children with no toys at all play very happily, some work too or are just much more respectful about chores.

I think the kids will get fair, and maybe even really start to understand ways other people live. I think it’s a great first step. But we that are a step or two beyond that or who want to change the world… we need to think about what we are trying to change it to and what we have to work with. Sometimes changing this at one end, means the other end has to give up some things.

I struggle with justice that means you need to live like us. I struggle with it for many reasons, but honestly worldwide its just not sustainable. We got good words, but how do we learn to live like and with each other justly? And with all of us?

title="Wordle: stranger"> src="http://www.wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/3818751/stranger"
alt="Wordle: stranger"
style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd">

Transitions

Two questions that I think I could have done a better job answering when I spoke to churches and other groups were:

What culture shock are you experiencing or noticing?

And What can we do?

My hope is to make a whole tab on this blog on what you can do. My work with Justice for Our Neighbors is much more focused on that, but my time in Africa leads to some good examples to.

But for a little more lighthearted let me mention what I have noticed with all these transitions:

- Driving on the right hand side of the road again was not really an issue, but I miss driving stick and putting the car in neutral and when I come to a roundabout/traffic circle I have to look at it and think for a minute.

- didn’t take too long, but unlimited internet

- conference calls… (the number and length and learning how to *6 are its own kind of culture shock)

- Diet coke at the office instead of tea or coffee (Florida thing) In South Africa my coworkers would make me wait to work or speak with a client until I had fixed my morning tea.

- air conditioning (not the cooling factor itself, but the isolating factor of moving through space and time in air conditioned vessels)

- living alone for the first time and not working with a staff of 15

- knowing what a prima facia is and moral perptitude

- gathering at coffee shops or restaurants instead of family homes to share a meal or visit

- when I am meeting someone for the first time I shake hands with me left hand on my right forearm. (no one has said anything about it yet, but in greeting in Africa it was necessary to show respect and now it feels disrespectful not to do it, and its habit)

- using a dryer. Pants I have had for over a year fit differently ad I couldn’t figure it out, until I realized I had used my mom’s dryer to dry my clothes, and these pants had only ever been line dried.

- and I think its just as much as a shock when things you haven’t done in almost two years come naturally and you don’t really adjust at all

- Though the amount of construction and new building in Arlington took me back a bit. Traveling the US before I left for South Africa and living in Africa and knowing the world impact of recessions – it was very surprising to me to see and realize my home towns isolation from much of that.

- NYC was one of the easiest places for me to visit, with the least shocks, oddly enough

-and as a few of these have mentioned, transitioning to Florida has its own culture shocks

Thanks for helping me think about the transitions,
Hannah

i was never called a stranger.

in a year and a half in another country (to my recollection) no one ever called me a stranger.

as I work to change the names we call migrant people in my ‘home’ country,
as I hear the words people wish were not associated with them,
as I hear the pain that comes from illegal, alien, other, and even the mild stranger,
I am reminded of a time when I was an other – but I was claimed in a strange land.

my first day of work at Bula Monyako my now friend Patty took me on a tour and introduced me to everyone. she would say proudly (and not fully understanding who I was) “this is Hannah, our missionary.”

somedays I may have had to struggle with my American identity and everyday I was welcomed into a different reality.

but no one ever called me a stranger.

the perspective of my work today in the land of freedom and opportunity is much different. It has been a painful week of learning the good words of inclusion and diversity have boundaries with much bigger walls than I realized. Some days I would rather go back to being a stranger.

“Our Art must become a process – a living, growing thing that people can relate to, identify with, be part of, understand; not a mysterious world a universe apart from them.
As politics must teach people the ways and give them the means to take control over their own lives, art must teach people, in the most vivid and imaginative ways possible, how to take control over their own experience and observations, how to link these with struggle for liberation and a just society free of race, class, and exploitation.”
-D. Kobe waMogote Martins

airports

more on transitions...

I love airports.

What I really love is the feeling of going somewhere new or the adventure/journey continuing. And the plane ride is the time to stare out the window in a very calm state on my own, reflecting on the excitement. Sometimes coming 'home' from places is a bit sad, but its exciting to see the people who are waiting at the airport. I like knowing exactly what I need to do at the airport and walking down the long hallways. I like staring out the windows and catching up with people before boarding. I like frequent flyer miles. I like treating myself to a coffee or meal. (though I think its funny, because its more expensive on the outside and I rarely treat myself then.) I love traveling, but the early morning long layovers can be kind of rough. I love people reading all the names in my passport and the comments.

I attribute my true excitement to that fact I got to travel with my parents as a very young child. We may have never had a membership to a pool, but we had clip on wings! It was an adventure just in the airport. (I do not remember as well all the stress of travel my parents went through for me. But I still hold with me the sense of calm when you get to the seat and have nothing to worry about until you land.)

I am the same way about liking to have something bigger to look forward to on the horizon in my schedule.

I thought about this some during all my travel coming back to the US from South Africa and going to midterms etc.

It is more bittersweet to fly and transition now. Now going somewhere new, means really having to leave somewhere else. And I think the someone else's are always the hardest. I think the list of places I want to return to grows as well, but the realization that one place makes it easier to live the way I like with people. At the same time I couldn't imagine being 'grounded' and I gain so much from all the places I go and people I meet.

In the last week people have heard about my program and life and the new response is, isn't that a lonely life?

I reiderate: Bittersweet.

sometimes lonely, sometimes lively, and a lot of day inspiring and heart-wrenching.

The plus about flying now though, is my legs are longer and I am better at sleeping on planes now. The independence of flying alone at this point isn't so important; it's nice to text my family on departing and arriving.

I still love airports, I still love the possibilities and the people on the other end. I just sometimes wish my detours were in places not listed on my ticket.

"We Have a Dream"

I love marches on May 1st. Yes this may come from my time in Cuba, where Workers Day is a very big deal. This year in the background of bills being hammered out in Florida's House and Senate, I participated in the Farmworker Association of Florida's Immigration Reform March.

Here is one of the signs:

dragging my heals

Some days I struggle to know exactly what to share on my blog. In my last few months in South Africa I started to decide if the purpose was inviting people to share with me on this journey I should be open. Some days I do not have the right words, so refrain from posting. Some days I do write, but the documents stay in the folders on my computer.

But for instance bloging about the transition from South Africa to the United States proved tricky to fully express all the emotions without stepping on anyone’s toes.

I love my family and my friends, but my everyday life was in South Africa with a new small family of friends. I had finally opened my eyes and realized the balance I had reached was healthy and I understood when it was my role to act or to learn and listen or to support. So when my plane ticket arrived via e-mail I broke down. Why was I leaving South Africa? Why was I leaving my daily life?

It took me a couple weeks, some good conversations, and a good church service to get me back on board with my program. And as much as I wanted someone to blame- it was my own choice. I signed on knowing this exactly would happen and believing in the importance of the domestic placement for the program and for my life. At the time I had no idea all the trials that would take place, some that ripped me even more from a sense of home, which meant when I finally found that solid dignified sense of home- it became a strong and powerful thing.

As we learn growing up though, the temper tantrum or digging or heels in becomes and exhausting waste of time. I love where I was able to get in South Africa and more important the people that are part of my journey and part of my family there. It was more important to be present and celebrate that then regret leaving.

Another piece that helped in transitioning was learning my next placement site would be with Justice for Our Neighbors. Do to the timing of the e-mail and life events, for a few hours all I knew was Orlando, Florida. I knew I would probably be living in a different part of the country, but Florida was not my top choice or what I was envisioning. When I got home a few hours later though and started reading through the materials, I was pretty impressed with the match of Justice for Our Neighbors and myself. My best friend in South Africa was sitting on the bed with me as I would blurt out another line from what I was reading, and we would discuss the possibilities.

A month after getting back to the United States and spending some time back with family and friends and the places I grew up, I understood my deep connection to all of that. As I boarded the train to come to Florida I was leaving two homes. Still in the process of transitioning from Africa, transitioning from my family and friends again, I was headed to Orlando Florida. And I was going where I was sent.

The challenge of getting people and churches to dialogue about immigration is here and there is a place for me to do something about it. Some of the people that fed and nourished me in the toughest times in South Africa did not have legal documents, other people being treated like slaves lived outside my back door, the person who taught me how to raise chickens and keep plants alive was also a stranger in a strange land, and children I knew had befallen prey to boarder guards. Being a stranger and loving sojourners on much harder journeys of movements, makes the realities of the stories in the United States even stronger for me. And any of those stories from South Africa are applicable stories in America. The church has supported me to spread the love we are called to share and to work for social justice so that every child of God is treated with the sacredness they deserve. And so I will be going right back into local churches, asking them to remember that same charge placed on me and them.

It is amazing how all the stories and homes connect. How they enrage me and impassion me to be right where I am. The hope is I do it with some grace and I couldn’t so that with all the support I have. But in my honesty these transitions do not come without pain.

I am realizing on Easter I called my ‘family’ in South Africa, and talked to my family in Arlington and in New York, got passed messages from friends at my churches, talked to friends across the country, and was welcomed to a new table in Florida for Easter lunch. And it is all these homes that have gotten me to where I am. I miss you all, but I always rediscover how much strength I keep from these relationships.

...but justice in practice is more powerful still...

When I was in Nashville a few weeks ago during my first week of work and the national Justice for Our Neighbors meeting I saw this book.

Well really I was in the first shuttle over to the church we were meeting in and there was a set of books they were collecting/giving away. Many were church based etc, but of course the one with South Africa in the title caught my eye. I think it was a guide to South Africa written for Americans in the 70's. Then I realized it was written by Alan Paton and one of the last chapters goes through the political parties and politics of the time. (Alan Paton wrote Cry, the Beloved Country- which I suggest reading, I think I read it in middle school. I was with a white family in South Africa when the movie came on TV and it really hit home again for the wife.)

Anyway these are the concluding paragraphs of the book, which I find interesting and in some way connected to in coming home from South Africa. Funny that I find it as I start with JFON, but the connections are always there.

Here you go:

"It is very important to me that young people from other countries (I do not call them foreigners, because I dislike the word) should visit us, and try to understand the difficulties of our problems. Especially am I glad that Americans should visit us. It is very important that Americans should understand the problems of as many countries as possible, because America has such a power, and therefore such responsibility, in the world. I believe that America takes her responsibility very seriously, and therefore it is important that she should increase her knowledge.

…But an allegiance to our countries becomes deeper and truer when we owe an allegiance to something even greater, to truth, to justice, and to the welfare of the whole human race. That is what I believe, and I know that many Americans believe it too; they believe that that is the way to become not only better citizens of the world, but better citizens of America also. They become better able to carry out their great responsibility to the world.

As your ship leaves the harbor of Table Bay, I say not goodbye, but tot siens, which means that I hope to see you again. As you sail away from Africa, you will for a long time see the great mass of Table Mountain, the same as was seen by the first white men who came to make their homes in South Africa. They brought a new life to this country. They changed the old life beyond recall. It goes on changing, and it is our duty to see that it changes for the good of all who live here.

No country likes interference from outside in its internal affairs. Yet no country can live without some kind of interference from outside. From now onwards your interest in South Africa should be better informed than it was a few weeks ago. And above all, remember this – the greatest service that any person can render to the cause of peace and justice in the world is to ensure that peace and justice prevail in his own country. Justice in the ideal is a powerful thing, but justice in practice is more powerful still, and can influence powerfully all the peoples of the world."

Howard Heiner

Maybe it’s a circle of life or maybe it is just part of life. I opened an e-mail this morning from the United Methodist Missionary Association sharing of the passing of Howard Heiner.

I am a bit new to these circles in direct ‘missionary’ ways, so don’t know Howard as a colleague like others in the association. However, Howard and his wife Peggy have been part of my journey with this program. During my road trip around the country I stayed at their house in Ashland one night. They know and worked with my parents as well and on the list of people I stayed with journeying around America old church members and missionaries were actually some of my favorite stops. I stayed with the Heiners after I had returned from my discernment weekend, but before I knew I was accepted as a Mission Intern.

It was a lovely visit. I was energized by their story and delighted to know them again as an adult able to hear and learn.

So my prayers are with the Heiners today. They blessed me with some of their faith and experience in this journey I am on. It is a different kind of mourning to me, when the voices that helped me to get to this place are no longer a phone call away.

Prayers for Japan

Information and updates from fellow colleagues working for the General Board of Global Ministries. The impact of natural and technological disaster are unreal in my mind. And incredible stories in the midst of so much uncertainty and suffering.

http://new.gbgm-umc.org/

http://gbgm-umc.org/global_news/full_article.cfm?articleid=5986

http://gbgm-umc.org/global_news/full_article.cfm?articleid=5987

This months photos and quote seem very fitting right now as I am at debriefing and training with my Mission Intern cohort in Atlanta. We have had some rough and emotional moments, but something tonight clicked and with all the emotions I was glad they are the people I am surrounded by. And in the midst of it all to hear more about their journey and stories. So Ill start with the quote:

"Return to old watering holes for more than water: friends and dreams are there to meet you." African Proverb

Purgatory

It seems a good time to blog in my life is waiting for a flight. Purgatory. This is a bit how I viewed our 8 hour lay over in Frankfurt Germany on the way to the US.

You see until the last minute I was sending goodbye messages on my South African sim card. And on the other side I’d be telling my family I landed safely. But in Germany I had no access to communication with any of the worlds, no befores or afters. (I could have I am sure if I had been willing to pay the money.)

Literally all there really was to do was wait. And arriving at 5 am makes for a tiring layover, and I figure if really in purgatory one would have a bit of a headache and having nagging fatigue.

(Please note the use of purgatory is only for illustrative purposes and does not reflect my religious views or any idea of how God and life work.)

And then you wait for a voice to call you and tell you your wait is over, continue the journeying and please make sure to fasten your seat belt. Somewhere watching lots of movies on those little screens come in.

And in some way all the emotions get put on hold, those emotions of see you laters and hellos. I really don’t have a life in Germany, I just happened to be there. The truth is maybe the wait time is necessary and much less of a purgatory. The over 35 hours of travel wasn’t too bad, no bus ride through Zim and Mozambique to Malawi- but just fine.

And now I have already completed the first leg of my US travel and had to say goodbye to my brother and Meridith after a few days hideaway staying in North Carolina. And a little bit of a delay to right this blog. I am headed to Atlanta for debriefing and looking forward to seeing all my friends just back from their placements. Its great to be seeing so many people this month and maybe the leaving will get easier with all the arriving, but for now it just feels like a lot of leaving.

So I guess the plane rides and journeys are needed to regroup and be ready for the next place. Cause the big trick to all of this is being present where you are, which is sometimes hard when you have just left home.

"A Dream is not a Dream until it is shared by the entire community." -Khoi Proverb


(I made a calendar for family and churches of 2010 photos for this year, so I will post each month as it comes for each of you. And if I ever get the funding I'd send EVERYONE one.)

January 31st: Project Jan complete

If you have been following closely I may have not always posted everything on time. But now the month is complete, and I promise I didn’t get to half the things I set out writing. I hope this helps tell some everyday stories from here though.

January was a good month. I have had to start dealing with the fact while days aren’t always easy, I love it here. That this is my life and these people and stories have made is possible for me to truly live in South Africa. I listen to traffic reports now and know where all the areas are. While my American accent is still a dead give away, I know the diversity of communities in this area better than a lot of South Africans. So while this is home and I feel strong it, I also have to prepare to take the next steps in my journey.

In less than a month I leave this place I love. Some people are saying its going to be so strange I’ll never see you again. I ask how do they know that, but for people that have never traveled away from the town they are from I understand the concept. Its far and a ticket can be half a years salary. Others look at me and say I know you will be back.

The song Hear I Am Lord has been coming up a lot and the line I have been thinking of is “I will go Lord if you lead me, I will hold your people in my heart.”

Sometimes it is a rough and beautiful thing when you realize how serious all these words are…

Central Methodist Chuch

Freddy and I went to Central Methodist Church in Johannesburg this morning. WE have all been a few times before, but to the French service because some of our students and colleagues from SHADE from DRC attend there. And it is always nice after getting used to the singing and dancing during church, then going back to more of the white traditions in church to come back to our Congolese friends.

But again on the list I had really wanted to go to the main service. Central is a pretty controversial place, because its extreme welcoming hospitality to refugees and immigrants had put tremendous stress on the resources of the church and general conditions. So different people I work with are in different camps about that. Believe me I have had to talk out protocol many a time in the last few weeks, but also how do we serve as we have been called to.

This Sunday happened to be when all of the youth society stewards were being appointed for the whole circuit. As you will see in the video the Youth wear blue and can be very strong in the leadership of what we would consider youth/young adults. Adults wear red as church uniforms in the Methodist church. (Sorry it’s a bit shaky, other clips have better songs, but I was swaying and dancing too much and don’t want you to get sick…) actually too big to upload now, but soon.

Anyway it was a wonderful service to be part of. And standing there knowing the night before the same sanctuary had been filled with sleeping people that had left their own homes and families. People on a hard journey, just needing a safe place to sleep. It’s not as simple as all that, but as you look around imagine all the people that have been in the sanctuary and for all the purposes.

And there are successes too. The school connected to Central that mainly serves Zimbabwean children, many who risk their lives traveling over borders and struggle everyday to stay in this country, many without the care of their own families, passed their international examines with over a 73% pass rate. (High for most South African school) And a 100% pass rate for subjects like English literature and Divinity. This Albert Street School has been a real inspiration to me while I have been here. I encourage you to keep it and these learners in your prayers.

Cradle of Humankind

We have lists. Yes lists of things we want to do and people we need to see before we have to leave South Africa. Rachel calls it her bucket list.

The Cradle of Humankind was on both of our lists. My mom and I had actually wanted to go when she was here, but I finally got the hint the last day she was here it was more important just to sit around talking then getting all the sites in.

So we called Lucille, fetched her in Pretoria, and headed out to Maropeng. This is a site where many fossils have been found especially of pre human primates. So I was imagining more outdoor type things etc. And we had heard about a boat ride…

Well there is another cave sight you can go to, but the museum is supposed to be very good so we opted for that. I was quickly reminded of my anthropology classes, the museum of natural history, and a fancy interactive science museum.

The boat ride was through all the four basic elements, but it was dark right before you got something, and I am sure many children come out the other end crying. I may have been a bit frightened a few times, so didn’t get the full appreciation of the development of elements.

What I was most impressed with however, was the social awareness that was evident throughout the museum. The contributions modern humans are making to speed up the next extinction phase. Sort of a where we are from, how we have developed, and the good and bad coming from it. And of course how important bi pedalism is… but also communication etc.

It was a good day for the ladies to be out and thinking…

Amen Sisi

Sometimes you just connect with people. Some days I just want to be doing more at Bula. I want more projects, but I also want to respect the balance. And sometimes I just need to be there waiting for who drops in.

Some days it is someone who just really needs someone to listen. We have counselors, but sometimes they don’t make it to the appointment. And I have the time to just be patient and listen. I have the luxury of getting back to what I was doing later and listen.

Sometimes everything out of a person’s mouth is what they think I want to hear and a lie. Some days it is important things. On days like today I wish I was certified as a counselor, so I could keep the trust people start building with me often in the reception area. But I have the ability to be straight with people or listen or give little ideas in the role I play.

Some days people come in and see me speaking English and avoid me like a plague. My colleagues are often disappointed in these people and know they could speak English if they wanted to. But the issues people come to Bula Monyako with are personal, so no one needs to be my best friend. I try to give them space and have other people work with them. In other situations I’d want to build more understanding, but I have no judgment for them. They are already judged enough or worrying what their status is.

Sometimes grannies and old men come in. Some that struggle with English or writing, but we communicate beautifully. We connect and I am able to assist them, or they are able to explain something.

Today some cans fell out of food parcels so I went quickly to the two pensioners that had been given parcels to check. I guess I grabbed one of the bags quickly and the man said “ohh do you work for the police.” I said no I don’t. He was playing some but said, “That’s the type of thing they used to do, they could just grab things from you or do anything they want.” I apologized and explained I just wanted him to get everything he was supposed to. I apologized a few more times after that and he said he knew he was just explaining about the police. As we were finishing the conversation I said very sincerely, “Well, Mkhulu I am very glad that this country has changed since then.” And he said, “Amen Sisi (Sister).”

Some days we learn, sometimes we pray. Some days we connect and things move forward. Amen.

Playing the Enemy by John Carlin

People forget Invictus and read this book. It is the book Invictus is based off of, but goes into all the ways Mandela has to learn about Afrikaaner culture (including Rugby) to win over his jailers and the government. And then after that to unite a nation. Well written and a gem for a peace and conflict resolution kid like me.

Mandela is getting out of Milpark hospital today. The hospital we know well from Emily and Joanne’s stay in July. And I must say Madiba is truly a leader, a father, and an uncle to this country. And I have more than become South African in that respect. I hope the country does not fear what happens to Mandela too much though, he is still a man. And his work will live in this country and with so many people. With people I meet, but they must not be afraid to see this in themselves. You see we all have a bit of our parents in us.

So get well Madiba, but we were listening even if we are afraid sometimes.

End of the intro to Playing with the Enemy by John Carlin

"More than once people remarked that the book I was going to write felt like a fable, or a parable, or a fairy story. It was a funny thing to say for those who had been the real-life protagonists of a blood-and-guts political tale, but it was true. That it was set in Africa and involved a game of rugby was almost incidental. Had it been set in China and the drama built around a water buffalo race, the tale might have been as enduringly exemplary. For it fulfilled the two basic conditions of a successful fairy story: it was a good yarn and it held a lesson for the ages.

Two other thoughts struck me when I took stock of all the material I had accumulated for this book. First, the political genius of Mandela. Stripped to its essentials, politics is about persuading people, winning them over. All politicians are professional seducers. They woo people for a living. And if they are clever and good at what they do, if they have a talent for striking the popular chord, they will prosper, Lincoln had it, Roosevelt had it, Churchill had it, de Gaulle had it, Kennedy had it, Mar¬tin Luther King had it, Reagan had it, Clinton and Blair had it. So did Arafat. And so, for that matter, did Hitler. They all won over their people to their cause. Where Mandela - the anti-Hitler - had an edge over the lot of them, where he was unique, was in the scope of his ambition. Having won over his own people - in itself no mean feat, for they were a disparate bunch, drawn from all manner of creeds, colours, and tribes ¬he then went out and won over the enemy. How he did that - how he won over people who had applauded his imprisonment, who had wanted him dead, who planned to go to war against him - is chiefly what this book is about.
The second thought I caught myself having was that, beyond a history, beyond even a fairy tale, this might also turn out to be an unwitting addition to the vast canon of self-help books offering people models for how to prosper in their daily lives. Mandela mastered, more than anyone else alive (and, quite possibly, dead), the art of making friends and influencing people. No matter whether they started out on the extreme left or the extreme right, whether they initially feared, hated, or admired Mandela, everyone I interviewed had come to feel renewed and improved by his example. All of them, in talking about him, seemed to shine. This book seeks, humbly, to reflect a little of Mandela's light."

The Price of Avocados

When I was visiting my friend Katie last April in Malawi, we had lots of avocados and friends of hers sent me back with some that I carried on the 40 hours bus ride home. And then we ate guacamole. After this I decided I needed to stop being cheap and enjoy avocados. This took a bit of time but by the time we moved into joburg and had street markets to get more avocados. The way I saw it 3 rand was much better than $3 in the US. (3 rand is about 40 cents USD)

Then they started going out of season – but I got to accept that 5 or 6 rand would be okay everyone once in a while. And I began to say what am I going to do without avos.

Well today as few vendors still sell them, I saw them in the store. They looked about, but this out of season thing I try to take seriously and I walked right by the beautiful green with little heartache.

I don’t miss my avocados as much and I was worried about. And I must remember the blessings of living places where you eat what is in season, instead of what’s been shipped across the world to be in season.

I really believe there is a lot to be said environmentally and culinary creatively to be said for eating in season. So maybe it’s the price of avocados… but I’m enjoying new things and will have to go back to avocados as a special treat.