Kid Version:
Hi guys!
I hope you are all doing well and that you’re enjoying your summer vacation. Kids here have just finished being on vacation for a few weeks, except they call it being “on holiday,” not “on vacation.” In Grahamstown, we have just had a big festival. A festival is sort of like a party for a big group of people. People have come from all over the world to watch plays and other shows, listen to music, see art and buy things like clothes, jewelry and decorations for their homes. All of a sudden, Grahamstown became a very busy place! Have you ever been in a play or a concert? How did you feel before it started? How about during the performance? And afterwards?
One of my jobs has been to organize a place for kids and their parents to come during the festival where they can read and write and do different activities and games that have to do with words. One game we played was “Letter Twister.” Have you ever played Twister? Our version was the same but instead of colors, we had letters. So the person calling out instructions would say things like “Right hand on A,” and “Left foot on B.” It was fun to see kids like you getting a chance to read and play with words because I like words a lot. One of my favorite words is “autumnal.” It means “having to do with Autumn, or Fall.” So I could say, “Grahamstown is very autumnal right now,” because it is. There are lots of nice crispy brown leaves all over the ground and most of the time, I wear a scarf to keep warm. What are some of your favorite words?
I am almost done with my time here in Grahamstown, and then I will move to a city called Mthatha (you say it “Mm-ta-ta”). It is hard to think about leaving here because I really like it and I have made a lot of good friends. Have you ever had to move to a new house or school or even a new city? It isn’t easy, but it helps to think about the different adventures and friends that are waiting for you at the new place.
I know that lots of you pray each day, often before you go to bed. When you pray, will you try to remember to pray for South Africa? It might seem strange to pray for a whole country, but God doesn’t mind. You can pray that the people in charge of the country make good decisions. And you can pray that sick people get the medicine they need. And you can pray that children get good teachers. There are lots of problems in South Africa, but God tells us that He listens to us when we pray, and we can be sure that God is bigger than all of the problems.
I will write again soon. I miss you!
Sarah Jackson
Grownup Version:
When I was four years old, my family and I lived in Grahamstown for several months while my dad was on sabbatical. In our back yard, we had a Lucky Bean tree, which gets its name from the bright red beans that fall from the tree in twisted dark brown pods. I collected them in a glass jar, but in the process of moving to Hermanus and then back to the States, we lost it. When I found out I was returning to Grahamstown for a similar length of time, I resolved to begin again. Since January, I have been collecting Lucky Beans in a Black Cat Peanut Butter Jar, which has a yellow lid. Recently, people have told me that they have seen them all over the world, including the U.S. but I will always associate them with Grahamstown.
There are several other things that are particular to this city. One of the best known is the annual National Arts Festival that is held each winter. Visitors from all over the country and even the world come to participate in the many concerts, plays, art exhibits, and lectures. People warned me before it started that I wouldn’t recognize Grahamstown because it changes into an entirely different place during this time. Now that the Festival is over, I think the transformation is more like that an actress undergoes before a performance. Grahamstown puts on a bit of makeup and a costume. Posters for shows plaster most available visual space. Public spaces are transformed into stages and stalls for vendors (my favorite of these changes was the conversion of the Drill Hall, where the Army is based, into the Comedy Club). Street vendors, many of whom are immigrants and travel from festival to festival across the country cover the sidewalks with their wares during the day, and camp in tents or under tarps along High Street at night. The city musters up an excitement in everyone from academics who are launching new books, to technicians employed to make sure everything runs smoothly, to street children who paint their faces white and pose as mimes to earn some money. This normally quiet town earns its spot in the limelight once a year and for ten days or so, becomes a bustling artistic center. No one doubts, though, that this is a facade, fun and important as it certainly is. At the end, the tourists will go home and the posters will come down. Grahamstown will return to being a three robot (traffic light) town, and the normal rhythms and problems of life here will return.
One of the big projects that I took on at CSD was creating a space for children to come with their parents to read and do literacy activities and games. This was a definite learning experience for me made more challenging by the fact that I had to arrange it quite last minute. However with a lot of help, the pieces came together and the program ended up going quite well. Two moments stand out to me that convinced me that it was worth the effort and would be worth considering again. One was on the first day when several fathers showed up with their children who attended a preschool in the township. A few days earlier, I’d given a stack of fliers to the teacher to distribute to the parents. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the fliers to make it any further than that. But here came these dads holding the “invitations” in one hand and their children’s hands in the other. Fatherlessness is as rampant in the townships as HIV/AIDS, so to see adult males choosing to spend three hours with their children in an educative setting was like a shady spot by a stream in the middle of a long, hot hike; I know the journey is far from over, but I welcome the refreshment.
The other moment was a comment from one of about ten teenage volunteers who were helping to run the program. They were all very good and if I could have, I would have enrolled some of them in education classes right then and there. There are capable leaders emerging out of unlikely schools. In particular, it was encouraging to have four boys from the shelter. Not all of them could read well, so it was fun to be able to show them that they could still lead activities that promote reading and writing. One commented proudly, “I’m a teacher.” I think the program was as much for these guys as it was for the younger kids.
It was nice to end my time with CSD with a concrete project. The after school program also culminated with a final production, which the Brothers, the kids’ parents and other members of the community attended. We had a mini-gallery displaying a joint project that art students from Saint George’s and our kids at the monastery have been working on for the last few months. Each group of kids sent written descriptions to the other, who then drew portraits based on the descriptions. It was a good exercise for our guys to practice their writing and to learn to look carefully at themselves and at others.
At the production, we also had much dancing and our two plays. We had all been practicing for so long that it was fun to look back and think about how much progress they had made since the beginning. Ntombekaya and I had stressed vocal projection so often and adamantly during our rehearsals that our kids ended up yelling The Three Little Pigs and the one about the Crocodile’s toothache, which had a rather charming effect. My favorite part was when each little pig would come up to Lindikhaya, the man selling the straw, sticks, and bricks, and ask for the desired building material. Here is the dialogue that ensued (it’s best if you imagine it at full volume and in a thick Xhosa accent, which I know will be hard for most of you since you’re not familiar with it, but I promise to do my best imitation upon request):
Second Little Pig: “Please, can I have some steeks?”
Lindikhaya: “Whatchu gonna do with some steeks?”
Second Little Pig: “I gonna build me some house.”
We were all so proud of these kids, and it was a delightful way to end the term with them. It gave some of the students who are weaker in academics a chance to really shine in different areas.
I have most recently finished up a week at the first Reading Camp in South Africa. We brought eighteen children ages nine to twelve from many different Grahamstown schools – most of them in the township – to a gorgeous setting between here and the coast. Each morning, the kids would rotate through six stations that helped them with reading. I taught writing, which was a lot of fun, especially because the classes were so small, and I could give very individualized instruction. The theme of the week was wild animals, so in our stations, each camper brain-stormed words describing an animal, and then built sentences using them. There was a wide range in ability among the kids, but each one made noticeable progress throughout the week. I was also counseling, and I had three girls in my room. They were a handful to say the least, especially since none of them spoke English well at all, which made it difficult to figure out what was happening when things went wrong. By the end, though, we managed to figure each other out well enough to make things work, and they were using a lot more English, which was the goal.
In the afternoons and evenings, we did different activities like going on hikes and going to a farm with an obstacle course, a python and a warthog. We also went on a game drive, where the kids could see some of the animals we’d been talking about all week. Highlights for me were the giraffes and the rhino. I’ve seen both before, but I’d forgotten how massive they really are. With the rhino in particular, it felt like we had stumbled through a porthole into prehistoric times. The basic idea behind these activities was to expose the kids to a variety of new learning opportunities to build their experiential vocabulary, allowing them to better understand the world around them and what they read in books. On the last evening, we made s’mores. The lady in charge of the food came to me and three other counselors from the States to explain to us what to do. All four of us have been going to camps since before we can remember, and have a pretty solid understanding of how to make s’mores, but we listened patiently. This was particularly hard to do with a straight face when she told us that she called them “Mallow Burgers.” To her credit, there were slight differences between them and the ones we have in the States. We used chocolate syrup instead of chocolate slabs, and we used slightly sweet cookies instead of Graham crackers because Graham crackers don’t exist here (which is one of my biggest frustrations about this country. Along with poverty and corruption and things).
So all in all, it was a good week, and it went incredibly smoothly because of a huge amount of planning and hard work. There were about 25 adult volunteers there throughout the week, and so the chance to have an over 1:1 ratio with the kids was unbelievable. I think that even if all the reading skills we tried to teach them get lost along the way, we were able to convince them that they are loved. Many of them came from very difficult homes (all three of my girls came to camp with only one pair of socks for the whole week), and I pray that as they return to them, they can remember this week and the safe environment they experienced.
Grahamstown is known as the “City of Saints” because there are so many churches here. You could attend a different one each week of the year. While I have been to quite a few churches since being here, I consider Grahamstown the “City of Saints” more because of the individuals who I’ve met here who truly are saints. I’d like to tell you about some of them:
Jean: She is my supervisor at CSD, and from the beginning has been so welcoming. In fact, I first met her when I was four and was in the preschool class she was teaching in Grahamstown, so it’s fun to have come full circle and be able to assist her as she helps preschool teachers in the area. Jean is creative, resourceful, patient and thoroughly enjoyable to be around.
Jeanette and Des: They are an older couple in my Bible Study. They also co-lead evening prayer almost every weeknight. I am continually amazed at the insight they both offer, and I have learned so much about how to grow old well with someone else as I’ve watched them work together and pray together. I have also learned about faithful service from them. Often there are only a handful of people at evening prayer, and I’m sure some days they are the only ones there. But I know that they continue on as usual in quiet service. Every week at Bible Study, I sit in awe at the honor I have of crossing paths with these holy people. When my eyes and heart are working really well together, I can see people glowing just a bit. Every time I see them, Jeanette and Des remind my heart and eyes to kick into gear.
The Brothers at the monastery: The more I get to know these men, the more respect I have for their order and their relationship with the surrounding community. The six Brothers are all very different but are completely committed to each other and to serving the needy that cross their path. Through the services and through guest accommodations, they provide a consistently welcoming place for people to find respite or renewal. Before meeting them, I had a vague stereotype of monks being gentle, disengaged men who kill time between prayers by gardening or washing dishes. These Brothers, though gentleness personified, spend their time following up on why the taxi driver didn’t pick up the children for school as was the arrangement, or driving into town to get some groceries for some of the women who work for them. And recently, they have been instrumental in introducing and implementing the Reading Camp. Interestingly enough, none of them are native South African. Three are from the states, one is from Namibia, one is from Scotland, and the other is from Lesotho. Yet each of them have dedicated their lives to this place and have made it their home. I truly cannot believe how fortunate I have been to be able to be part of these men’s lives and work.
June: She runs the after school program and hosts the weekly Bible Studies I attend. Her dedicated presence especially at the monastery gives consistency to the kids. June is a good woman with a strong sense of justice. She fights for those she cares about. She is one of the women who have committed to being motherly to the volunteers, and when I got sick in the middle of Bible Study a while ago, she not only let me puke in her sink, she also swung by my house the next day with proper nourishment.
Kary: She is a teacher at a school for children with special needs, and she is also the person who organized the Reading Camp. I have gotten to know her only recently, but am so impressed by her energy and dedication to her students. She is one of the most patient people I have ever met and when dealing difficult children, will always give them a chance to explain themselves. When I am around her, I am humbled and inspired.
Ntombekaya: My co-teacher Ntombekaya is not only one of the best teachers I have come across, she has also become one of my closest friends here. She is a delight to work with, and we spend much of our time laughing. Over the months since I arrived, we have built up a good partnership in the classroom. She was part of the Reading Camp as well, and I am so grateful that we got to spend my last week in Grahamstown together. I will miss her just as much as I will the kids.
As I think about these people who have so greatly impacted my life and the lives of many in the area, I am concluding that sainthood has less to do with miracles and being dead than some might say. The common denominator among these people is that they are consistent. I am here for a few months, and though part of my heart will undoubtedly remain here, I will physically be somewhere else. These people, though, are serving day after day, year after year, decade after decade. This is particularly crucial in a place where adult figures are coming in and out of children’s lives all the time, either through their own fault or through circumstances they cannot control like illness or death. Their actions remind me that the main thing God wants from me is to show up, and anything that I do is simply a result of this.
And now, a note about oranges: it is winter here, as my numb appendages are quick to remind me, and so it is orange season. They are really cheap right now (about 25 for one US dollar), and I have had so many in the past few weeks that I am a bit saturated, but I can’t stop eating them because they are so good! I tell myself that it’s part of my personal campaign to prevent scurvy. (Though to be honest, I think that I like to say this to myself mostly because it’s as close as I’ll ever come to being a pirate.)
Whenever I move to a new place, I don’t feel truly settled until I have some scotch tape. I am moving to Mthatha today, and in preparation, I bought three rolls of tape so that when I arrive, I can hit the ground . . . taping. Other than that, I don’t know how prepared I am. I have packed. I have said goodbye to most people and will go in to CSD in a few minutes to have a goodbye tea. But the last month has been such a whirlwind that I feel a bit surprised to find that my Grahamstown stint is suddenly over.
I want to let you know of my new address in Mthatha. It is as follows:
c/o McConnachie
P/bag X5014
Mthatha, South Africa
5099
Also, I have updated my website, so feel free to check out new photos, sketches and poems.
Today, before I leave for Mthatha, I will put the last of my lucky beans in my jar. It is full – almost to overflowing, and so am I. On the day of the production at the monastery, Brother Timothy mentioned that I was leaving, and said that if you stay in Africa long enough to take off your shoes, your feet will grow roots into the ground and you will remain connected to the place. My shoes are almost always on because it is so cold, but I have no doubt that I have roots here that will continue to nourish the relationships I have been given in my last six months.
Please know that I continue to be thankful for the relationships I have with each of you, and that I miss you greatly. I hope you are well, and I’d love to hear more specifically how you are doing when you get a chance.
Love,
Sarah/Mouse
Ps: A special treat for those of you who made it this far. This was the “ps” from my brother’s first mass email from Dublin. He is calling them “epic thistles.” Here is why:
If any of you are wondering why I am calling my mass emails "Epic Thistles," it's because Sarah has sent out her "Epistles" while she's been in South Africa, and I came to the conclusion one day that because those epistles are so long, they must be epic. The only other conclusion that could come from this evidence is that "epistle" must be short for "epic thistle."
So there you go – by being so longwinded, I’m actually inspiring new vocabulary!