My African soul: Two encounters.

I spent some time last year at a university in a small US city. I saw an "African evening" advertised at the university housing I was accommodated in, so I took my homesick self along to it. There I was introduced to a man, Mark*, who was supposedly also South African. I couldn't hear him too well over the music, but it appeared that he lived in the US and spent regular time in Cape Town lecturing courses at UCT. He made noises about his heart really being African, or something to that effect. He had a very strange accent, and he was wearing a hand-woven pants leather shoes African-soul getup.

On the plane back from that trip to the US, I ended up sitting next to Robyn*, a South African lady, blonde and elegant, who must have been in her early thirties. By this stage I had become wary of speaking to South African's outside of South Africa (see What I learned in the USA and Heather's great comment) so sitting next to her didn't fill me with gladness. But we got chatting and she turned out to be very lovely, we chatted about our experiences in the US and how we found it different from South Africa, and all sorts of things. She was definitely proudly South African. I've forgotten a lot of the conversation, but I remember her telling me about her maid finding out she had AIDS and how they are working through it and that sort of thing. And her saying that she wanted her work, which was in the medical field, to be part of building South Africa. And how she agonised over medical fees and tried to convince her partners to do more pro bono work.

On the other side of me was a Bosnian girl, Nina*, who was also a pleasure to sit next to. All three of us chatted for a while and Nina girl brought up affirmative action, which she was obviously very against. I held my breath because I know this is a sensitive issue to many white South Africans. There was a pause. Robyn didn't step in so I felt I had to. Hesitantly, gently, very carefully, I explained that affirmative action is necessary for us. I was very gentle, I didn't want to make enemies of my new South African friend, who I was on a 16 hour flight with. To my great delight, when I was finished Robyn agreed with what I had said and furthered it with some examples from her own experience of working with selection committees and the like, grappling to decide who were the most fair and promising candidates for bursaries. Nina was unmoved.

I doubt Robyn would claim to have an African soul, or anything to that effect. I seriously doubt she has any hand woven garments, and I am almost entirely certain she does not have any leather velskoen type shoes. So does that mean Robyn isn't a real South African? Or a real African? Is Mark a real South African, with his all natural clothes and "African soul"?

I confess I was quite angry after meeting Mark. It took me a while to sort through all my feelings but I eventually decided that my anger was because Mark was almost a picture of a stereotype American people have of Africans, certainly white people in Africa. A bit weird. Hippyish. The whole Mother Africa and Africa-is-so-spiritual-man business. It almost felt like he was using all those symbols so say to the world "I am an African!" to claim something about himself that might not even have any substance. I didn't speak to him for long, so I must say that my assumptions about him could be way off. But if he just spends a month lecturing at UCT every year, then what is that? What does being an African mean to him? Beyond some sentimental identification?

Then we have Robyn. No pretense, she probably has some very un-PC opinions. She would call herself a South African, and an African. But not with the same gusto or weird self-importance as Mark. Being a South African isn't a badge for her, its just who she is, where her heart is invested. And for her, her heart is invested in a broken South African, where we grapple with the issues of crime and AIDS and racism and poverty. Where we feel helpless sometimes, despair other times, fearful sometimes, hopeful sometimes, proud sometimes.

Then Mark, perhaps also invested in South Africa. It is, after all, where his heart is. Or so he says. But does his Africa even exist? What is that Africa he belongs to in his mind? Are there AIDS orphans in his Africa? Home Affairs bungling? Eskom rolling blackouts? Has he cried when we won a rugby world cup? Has he ever been turned away from a job he so wanted, and told the reason was affirmative action? Has his car been stolen? Has he stood in a queue to vote and been awed and the men and women who died to make such days possible for all South Africans? Has he ever watched Isidingo? And been glad that they are moving to multiple languages?

Because that is the South Africa I live in. That is the South Africa Robyn lives in. That is the South Africa another 48 million of our fellow citizens live in. Broken, but alive with possibility.

If this isn't Mark's South Africa, then I don't know what is means for him to call himself a South African. But I know what it means for Robyn to call herself a South African. And I know what it means for me to call myself a South African.

What is means to be a South African, or an African... its quite a topic. I could say more and I'm sure anyone reading this will have their own ideas. But the images of these two people have stuck with me.

* Names changed

State of the Nation Address

I was waiting to hear the State of the Nation Address by Thabo Mbeki today. Its funny how people spent pages speculating about what he was going to say.

Anyway, I thought it was a *great* speech, but then I am a bit of a Thabo Mbeki fan. There seem to have been mixed reactions to it, with some people saying it was great (Jacob Zuma, for example, seems to have approved) and some people not being pleased at all. Helen Zille, for example, wrote a scathing response to it. Which I think was a bit petty really. Maybe they thought they had more favour with him than they did, maybe they saw him as more removed from the ANC than he is. But he is there as representative of the ANC after all. And he is an ANC man, of course, and losing at Polokwane doesn't make that any less true.

But anyway, what do I know!

He ended with the optimistic:

Having said all that I have said, I come back to the question: what is the state of our nation as we enter 2008!

What I do know and hereby make bold to say is: whatever the challenges of the moment, we are still on course!

For the full text of the State of the Nation Address, go here.
And for a *wonderful* four sentence long summary of the 16 page long speech, go here.

Dear President Mbeki

Stealing my style from Gavin Foster (who called me "a humble person with much to be humble about." Which is quite true of course.):



ATT: President Thabo Mbeki

Dear President Mbeki

As a South African citizen and enthusiastic reader of ANC Today, I just want to let you know how much I miss your weekly letter. Perhaps its for the best as it must have taken up a truly disproportionate amount of your time. But nonetheless, its a real loss.

Today I found myself lingering over a volume of Xhosa poetry at Exclusive Books. Probably something I never would have looked twice at before reading your "We are children of a rich heritage."**

Even though I sometimes disagreed with what you were saying, I loved being able to see what you felt was important enough to write about. I loved the insights your letters offered into current events and other topics relevant to our nation. I loved to hear you respond in your own words and from your own conviction to various topical issues in South Africa. I loved that there were so many things you wanted to write about, to tell people about. I loved having my world expanded by topics or ideas I hadn't thought much about before, or from angles I hadn't considered them from.

I first subscribed to ANC Today becasue I kept seeing it referred to in Mail and Guardian stories and I thought I might as well go to the source. I never regretted signing up and every Friday I looked forward to some interesting reading in my inbox.

It looks like things have changed for ANC Today. I so enjoyed your letters and the additional pieces by other people. I hope the new ANC Today manages to continue in the same spirit you led it with.

And if I can make one request, as your audience, I ask that you carry on writing! Start a blog, write a book, write a column somewhere. But I hope that your stepping down from the President's letter in ANC Today isn't the end of us seeing you in print.

Thank you.

Regards,
Laura



** Incidentally, that 28 September 2007 volume of ANC Today also included a piece entitled "Economic growth needs affordable and sustainable energy." FYI to people who thought the governement weren't thinking about these issues till January this year.

What I learned in the USA

I was in the USA for October and November last year for PhD work, in a small town called Urbana/Champaign. Well actually its two towns, Urbana and Champaign. Once they were separate but they are completely merged now. I was at the University of Illinois (UIUC) there. So half of the university is in Urbana and half is in Champaign. Not that they are different campusses, there is just a demarcation that this half is Urbana, the other half is Champaign.

But I digress, this post is about "What I learned in the USA"

1. International air travel is not as scary as I thought. Also, a 16 hour flight is not unlike a 16 hour bus trip.

2. I identify with African people way way more than US people. Every time I met an African person - from anywhere in Africa - I felt like I'd just met a homie.

3. Wow those American folks have amazing team spirit, some days every second or third person I saw on campus would be wearing UIUC team spirit clothing.

4. Its weird meeting South African people who have emigrated (not the Kemball's, in case you ever read this! Other people I met). There are just so many reasons people have left and I think people carry baggage from their time in SA and their leaving.
I met one South African couple who emigrated many years ago now and it was just too awkward, I think they actually didn't want to meet other South Africans.

5. You know what democracy looks like? It looks like televised *incredibly boring* city council meetings where everyone and their dog has time to have their say about the new rent laws or the inner city parking system or their plumbing issues. It also looks like plackards on people's front lawns that say "Impeach" or "Stop the war."

6. "Having an accent" is novel for about a week, when people comment on how cute your accent is... then it just becomes irritating. Then it just becomes burdensome. "Can I please have a glass of water?" "Water." "W-a-t-e-r." "WATER!" "WAADER" "oooh ok..."

7. The local church is the hope of the world.

8. American people are great. American's are taking alot of flack from the world at the moment, but I think people should just examine their attitudes for a moment. If someone spoke about black people / Indian people / Jewish people / etc. the way people often speak about American's, people would be horrified. American people are like people anywhere, some good some bad. I met some very friendly, funny, fun, humble people. And really not as insular or arrogant as people sometimes expect they are...

The flag

I've had this blog post sitting in my mind for weeks not, but I'm so nervous writing it. Because I want to get it right, I want to express it well. So here goes...

Does anyone remember the Song of the Flag? We used to sing it at school some times. I much preferred it to the old national anthem, it was alot more jivey. I googled for it and found it, but that is another blog post for another day. Today I want to write about the flag that song was about, the old South African flag.




I could tell you a bit about the history of the flag, but if you're reading this you all have google and wikipedia available to you, so I won't bother. What I think is most interesting for us now is what the old South African flag represents.

You still see the old flag flown every now and then. Sometimes at rugby matches, you might see a couple dotted around the crowd. In an article in the Daily Dispatch on December 27, Akona Ndungane, a springbok rugby player, called for them to be banned at matches. "We need to look at the future." he said "I definately think those flags should be banned. It would be a step forward."

I think many people would agree with that. Because that old flag is an offensive symbol really. Unless you are waving it in complete ignorance, which I doubt many are, it's making quite a blatant statement. A statement that you reject the new South Africa and that you are holding on to the old. That you look back to the days where (white) South African's could proudly wave that old flag, that things were better then.

Which is offensive. The vast vast majority of our country's citizens weren't even considered citizens under the regime represented by that flag. And that's what people are approving of, when they fly the old flag. That's very offensive.

But I was considering the flag a while back and it occurred to me that maybe our reaction to it needent be outrage or offense. It was an offense because it represented oppression, violence, taking away people's humanity. But when we look at it today, we see it representing a regime that lost. We see it powerless. For people who yearn for the old South Africa, they can fly flags and sing songs to their hearts content, but it will never return.

Ironically, a symbol that represented so much evil and so much destruction now represents a pitiful longing of a very tiny fraction of South African's to return to a past which perhaps they saw as glorious, although it wasn't. A pitiful useless longing for a past that never even existed. A symbol of power and brutality that is now a pitiful symbol of defeat.

Not to say the new South Africa is perfect, but its definitely not going back to the old. And to people who still wish for for the old, my heart if filled with sadness for them, and pity. Maybe some anger, from time to time, but mostly just pity. And the hope that their eyes will be opened to see the emptiness of the old, and the beauty of the new.

Eskom Survival Tips #1

Todays tip: Using your computer UPS to power other things

Look at the back of your UPS - there should be a few similar plugs, one is connected to your computer, maybe another is connected to your monitor. The plugs are kettle plugs - like the ones you plug into your kettle, if your kettle has a detachable plug. The UPS plugs are the female side. There may be one or two free plugs, in which case you are in business! One of the plugs might be a surge protector, in which case you could maybe move your monitor onto that if you are not actually intending to work on your computer during a power out.

Ok, so now what we want is to hook that extra UPS female kettle plug to a form you can actually attach things to. In my case, I want to run an external harddrive off it. But you could boil a kettle, I suppose, or a run a radio or whatever. I'm not sure how long the power will last, it will depend on how much there is loading your UPS. It will need some experimentation to find out. And it will depend on the specs of your UPS too, of course.

Ok, so we want that female kettle plug hooked up to give power to say a normal 2-prong or 3-prong multi-plug.
So what you do is:

Step 1: Go to a computer store and buy a male kettle plug to female kettle plug cable. I think they are usually used for monitors. The people at the store should know what you are talking about. Mine cost R20, pretty inexpensive.

Step 2: Take some sort of appropriate cutting instrument (pliers are first prize) and cut off the female plug. Cut close to the plug so you keep as much cable as possible. Just in case you don't know, the female side has 3 holes, the male side has the 3 metal connectors that fit into the three holes. Strip the end of the white insulating stuff off, and strip the ends of the 3 coloured wired inside. Just FYI, the blue wire is neutral, brown is live and green/yellow is earth. I don't know why, it wound have made more sense to me to make earth brown, but anyway.

Step 3: Buy an 3-prong plug: the female side, where we will ultimately plug our kettle, harddrive, multi-plug, whatever. I know you can get them with just the plug, but I couldn't find one at checkers, so I had to buy and extension cable. R50 ouch a bit more than I had hoped to pay, but alright. Oh and buy some insulating tape too, its only about R5.

Step 4: If you bought an extension cable like me, cut off the male plug end and strip is, just like you did to the kettle cable in Step 2.

Step 5: Connect the two cables - blue to blue, brown to brown, yellow/green to yellow/green. I connected them by twisting the copper ends together then covering it solidly with insulating tape. Cover well because we don't want the current carrying insides touching each other! If you'd managed to buy just the plug section in Step 3 you could attach stripped wires from the kettle plug cable directly to the 3-prong plug with a screwdriver. That would have been a neater option and more satisfying all round. But hey, you make do with what you have.

And you are done! Plug the male kettle plug end into your UPS and plug whatever you want into the other 3-prong end. I attached a multi-plug to the 3-prong and then attached my two external hard-drives to 2-prong inputs on the multi-plug.

Finally, turn off the power. Hey presto, your UPS is still keeping your external hard-drives (or whatever) running. Hurrah!

Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God

Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God

John Donne


Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurped town, to another due,

Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

but is captived, and proves weak or untrue.

yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,

But am betrothed unto your enemy.

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor even chaste, except you ravish me.

Bravo

The South African Minister of Defence, Mosiuoa Lekota, was arrested for speeding a couple of days ago. He was going at the whopping speed of about 180 km/hr. That doesn't happen by accident.

Oh woe is us, another tale of the sad state of South African leadership? Actually, I see something entirely different here, something very encouraging actually.

Speeding is bad, 180 km/hr is just entirely unacceptable. And by a Minister of our government, who should be setting an example, who should be beyond reproach, thats even worse. But I think the outcome of the whole incident is just a breath of fresh air.

He complied with the police when he was arrested, he went to court, admitted his guilt, and was sentenced. And it looks like he was really ashamed of himself, honestly remorseful. I suppose that could have just been the angle he was taking to get off lightly, but it seems legitimate from his comments.

Wow, what a breath of fresh air. No bravado, claims of innocence, egging on supporters, no shadiness, no arrogance or attitude of being above the law. What a pleasure. We can't just overlook his offense. But honesty, remorse, humility, these are qualities I can admire. And I think thats a hopeful thing to see in a South African leader.

On the other hand

While I was having dinner with some people yesterday I was digging around in my bag to look for something, when a friend noticed the book I'm reading - Fred Khumalo's "Touch my blood." I went to look for his latest novel at the library, but they didn't have it. The librarian so enthusiastically offered me his biography as compensation that I felt I had to enthusiastically receive it. I'm enjoying it, by the way, I recommend it. The only thing that I haven't enjoyed is the sexual details. Not great at all. It was the same with Ndumiso Ngcobo's book. Eish, the marmite chapter. Perhaps just skip that chapter, if you are considering reading the book.

Anyway, I digress badly. The point is, my friend saw the Khumalo book and immediately said she had read his "Yo Niggaz" column, someone had given her a printed copy. And she objected *most* strongly to his opinion on the whole ebonics issue. Its an identity thing... Why is it that people identify themselves with this use of language, she asks... these sorts of things need proper research, she says. And more, with bigger words. She is a English Masters student so I have to bow to her knowledge of such things.

So I suppose like so many like race, class, culture issues, there is more to it than the appearance of things.

Eish its bebbing

Reading Fred Khumalo's blog post Yo, niggaz, whaz happenin’ to da English? reminded me of an incident from when I was in the USA a month or so back. I was waiting at the bus stop on the University of Illinois campus one evening, on my way home. There was another guy waiting at the bus stop, a youngish black guy, probably a student. I was standing quite close to the bench he was sitting on and he greeted me. Or maybe I greeted him, I don't remember. I always feel its good to greet people.

Anyway, he then said something completely unintelligible to me, a couple of sentences. I tried to muddle them out in my mind but eventually gave up. "Pardon me?" Another, longer, string of phrases I couldn't make head or tail of. Asking people to repeat themselves too many times is embarrassing, but I really didn't understand anything he said. "Sorry I didn't understand you..." Another few mystifying sentences. I think I may have recognised the word "mother." Maybe, maybe, the word "red." But he was wearing a red track suit top, and I was pulling at straws, so maybe there was no red.

I smiled and gave up. There was clearly no hope.

I don't know. Part of me wants to sigh and say: "What is happening to young people nowadays?" Another part of me knows that that would probably be hypocritical. I'm really not averse to slang at all. I'm sure hanging out with my friends would be a mystifying experience for many other people. Bebbing and duuring and "Sisi, sisi I just want to tell you that you are very selfish," "We go" Indian slang from Minz, the classic Zimbabwean "item item" and so forth.

And I know that languages change all the time. In one epic argument with a flatmate of mine, I claimed that "conscientize" was not a word. I was quite wrong of course. It wasn't in the dictionary though. Who cares? Words are in the dictionary because people use them, people don't use them because they are in the dictionary. And who gets to choose the way language changes? Surely the people who use it?

But on the other hand, there is a place where we actually just need to ability to communicate with people, to express ourselves in a way other people understand and to express ourselves in a polite, respectful and professional way. "Yo 'sup dawg?" may be perfectly fine when addressing your mate, but not so much when you're addressing your mother. Or your boss. Or the lady behind the till at the post office.

Someone commented on Fred Khumalo's blog that this kind of poor English is a sad symptom of kids not reading. Its a revealing comment, I think, because it points to the fact that more often than not poor English isn't just the choice to buy into popular slang. Its a result of people just not being exposed to English spoken well. And even as I write that part of me thinks "Well isn't that unfair? Who is to say that the way I was brought up speaking English is good English?"

But objectively I think that a wide range of vocab and the ability to express yourself in language appropriate to many different social situations is important. Its a skill, like any other, that can be developed. And I'm very grateful that I grew up being sent to the dictionary to look up words for myself, and even for those awful Standard 5 vocab lists we had to learn.

It was there I learned that plump was really just a synonym for fat. I called my mom on that one - I was quite a *ahem* plump kid, and she always used to say I wasn't fat, I was plump. Yup, my 12 year old self empowered by vocabulary.

Vote Yes

Last week I was sitting in front of the TV, waiting to hear the result of the Polokwane vote: Zuma or Mbeki, the big question. Sitting there I was taken back to 1992, my eleven year old self anxiously sitting on the same mat in front of an older TV waiting for the results of the Vote Yes/Vote No referendum.

A quick history lesson to give some background for my reminiscing:
In about 1990 the then National Party led South African government was beginning to move away from apartheid. Political parties such as the ANC were unbanned, Nelson Mandela was released from prison and the government was in negotiations with the ANC. There was resistance to the reforms, so the then president F.W. de Klerk called for a referendum (for white South Africans) to show how much of the (white) population supported the reforms. The referendum was Vote Yes/Vote No for continuing the reforms. There were posters all over the street lights, I remember: "Vote yes!" "Vote no!"
More info from our friend wikipedia

I was just a kid, I didn't know anything about politics, anything about apartheid (beyond the fact that our maid's children weren't allowed to be in the same school as me). I don't remember my parents ever saying anything much about politics or race, so the issues of South Africa just had no place in my little eleven year old mind. There were terrorist drills at school: push the desks to the side of the room and hide under them. So the terrorists couldn't shoot us, I suppose. But I didn't link that to the political environment in South Africa, the fear of the white populace as things were changing. I couldn't. As I said, I was just a kid. More concerned with friends from school and my inability to pass times table tests (yes, its true).

Now my parents were also pretty liberal, so I didn't grow up with a lot of the racism that I expect many other South African kids did. So when one of the kids at school told me that if the result of the upcoming election was "no," the "black people were going to come kill us all," this was news to me. I was horrified. So I sat in front of that TV and watched the votes come in, distraught. In the wake of this revelation of my potential impending doom I had discussed the situation with some friends from school. It seems everyone else's family had planned for the worst - they spoke of plans to leave for various European countries, mostly. I have no recent foreign ancestry, so my eleven year old imagination envisioned my family being left to be slaughtered, while watching my friends fly off to European safety.

The results were coming in slowly, as they were counted in different areas. Eventually the stress of it all overcame me and I told my mother that if things turned out badly, so and so's family was going to Italy, so and so's family was leaving for Austria and so forth... but what about us mom, what will we do? Where will we go?

I was pretty upset and scared by that stage, but I've always remembered her answer and how it settled the issue for me. She said that South Africa is our home, and we were not going anywhere.

Which may sound like an entirely unsatisfactory answer. It didn't address the "kill us all" problem at all. But it somehow satisfied my eleven year old self. Perhaps it was my mothers confidence - if we were going to stay, it would have to be okay, somehow. There is no place to run to, because this is the only place that is ours, so it has to be okay.

South Africa is our home, and we were not going anywhere.

---

I started writing this blog post during the wait for the Polokwane results - now of course we know that Zuma is the new ANC president. There is alot of fear in South Africa about this at the moment. Probably alot of people considering their options: Italy, Austria, Australia, Canada...
And I confess that as I heard the results, for an instant I wished (for the first time) that I was eligible for an ancestral UK visa. But you know what, South Africa is my home, and I'm not going anywhere.

South Africa is doing better now than we have ever done. We are in our thirteenth year of being a democracy, only twenty or so years ago we were oppressing, brutalising, pretty much enslaving millions of people. Today I can watch bollywood movies with a friend who I would not have shared eating utensils with twenty or thirty years ago. We are living one of the great miracles of our time.

We're not perfect, by no means, we're broken nation. But we're being fixed. And we're going to have some ups and downs, no doubt. But, by the grace of God, lets stick around and do this thing.

What its all about

A conversation yesterday got me thinging about the things we want to achieve in life, the acclaim we wish for, and what its all about.

I went to the talk by the guy who draws xkcd the other day, and it was pretty funny. Lots and lots of geeky jokes. And he is *famous* - people queue up to have their photo taken with him. Maybe it would be good to be famous, maybe it would be satisfying to have people hang on my words, put up posters about me, be in awe of me. That would proably be real good (note my American slang!) for my ego. I wonder if I'd be content with that? Maybe. But really, this xkcd guy, he's just a random guy. He's quite smart and pretty funny and into geeky things which is cool. And he draws a comic thats sometimes very funny... so there is nothing in particular that I'd like to emulate in him personaly. Its just that feeling of a thousand, probably many thousands, or people, approving of you. Admiring you.

But then I got to thinking, why do I want people to admire me, and approve of me? Surely if I'm happy with myself, a thousand praises would be nice and all, but I wouldn't need them to prop me up? And how will I be happy with myself? Because I know that I myself am a delightful creation of the Lord, who sees me as I am and accepts me afffectionately, and also because by the grace of God I live a life that is pleasing to him, or at least increasingly pleasing to him, I hope!!

Then I was thinking about accomplishment. I am hereby old, and it feels like I've achieved nothing with my life. Well maybe this is a bit easier to define for me... what would I like to have done? I don't know... help stop AIDS, changed peoples lives, made some amazing physics discoveries that change the way we see the world, advanced technology, helped eradicate poverty, fix the education system in SA, fix Home Affaris in SA, do something about the transport situation in SA, write some children's books about recentish South African history, commission a cartoon series about recentish South African history, do something significant to stop crime, have a degree from MIT, Caltech :)
I'm not sure, it could be lots of things. And I wonder if it would be satisfying to know that the world was a hugely better place because of me. I'm sure it would. But the thing with that though, is that its a bit addictive. Doing good things for people, doing great impressive things, thats fantastic. Aim for the stars blah blah and all of that. Definately. Lets do it, lets change the world. But if we rely on that to feel ok about ourselves, it becomes a bit empty and desperate eventually. There is always more you can do, there is always alot that you can't do. We're little people and when we realise that, its pretty freeing.

Anyway, Nicole puts it beautifully:

I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me
And I enjoy an accolade like the rest
You could take my picture and hang it in a gallery
Of all who's who and so-n-so's that used to be the best
At such'n'such ... it wouldn't matter much

I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights
We all need an 'Atta boy' or 'Atta girl'
But in the end I'd like to hang my hat on more besides
The temporary trappings of this world

I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough
To make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who
blessed your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy

I don't have to look too far or too long awhile
To make a lengthly list of all that I enjoy
It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile
Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy

Not well traveled, not well read, not well-to-do or well bred
Just want to hear instead, "Well Done" good and faithful one...

Legacy, from Woven and Spun by Nicole Nordeman

Luthuli on Zimbabwe

No, not really. This is Albert Luthuli writing to encourage the "economic ostracism" of South Africa during apartheid. But his words reminded me of the quiet diplomacy that seems to be going on about Zimbabwe. Chief Albert Luthuli was ANC president from 1952 to 1967.

They seem to rely on a quiet word in a diplomat's ear. This is ineffective...

The present situation, if I may put it in a parable, seems to me something like this. My next door neighbour and I may like each other or we may not. At all events, we shall, if we are normal people, pay attention to the social conventions. We shall mind our own business unless invited to do otherwise. We shall not interfere with each other's wives or children or property. We shall avoid abusive language and greet each other when we meet.

But a day might conceivably come when this relationship breaks down. I might happen to glance across to his lands and see him savagely whipping a member of his household or attacking a defenseless child with a lethal weapon. I might learn that he has done his brother to death.

I could shrug and go on my way. I could say, “Well, after all, he's the head of that household, its no business of mine. I don't want him interfering here, so I'd better keep myself to myself.” Or I suppose I could go round to the door and leave a little note suggesting that it might be wise if he were to make a few changes in his behaviour, and then leave him to think it over.

I doubt if I would be morally justified in taking any course except doing my utmost to to prevent him doing further damage. My aim would not be to kill him or injure him. It would be to stop him. I should find myself impelled to do that, by lawful and recognised means, and preferably by means which do no personal hurt.

Let My People Go, Albert Luthuli

Youth Day

Today is Youth Day, a day public holiday. Today we remember the Soweto uprisings on June 16, 1976.

Back then, South Africa had what was called Bantu education, where education for black kids was supposed to address the "nature and requirements of the black people." To teach them to be servants and workers. To quote Dr Verwoerd, "Natives (blacks) must be taught from an early age that equality with Europeans (whites) is not for them."

In 1976 it was decided that parts of the schooling would be done in Afrikaans, with the scholars, and teachers, having no choice in the matter. The then Deputy Minister of Bantu Education, Punt Janson, said: "No, I have not consulted the African people on the language issue and I'm not going to. An African might find that 'the big boss' only spoke Afrikaans or only spoke English. It would be to his advantage to know both languages."

On June 16th, the scholars organised a march to protest the change to Afrikaans. A peaceful march, where between 10000 and 20000 scholars attended.

But on the day, the kids found themselves surrounded by police, who ended up firing into the crowd, and it all became choas. The official death toll was 23. These were just kids, just marching.

The June 16 Soweto uprising then catalysed major upheaval throughout our nation.

For more info, check out SA history online, and the June 16 photo gallery.

Freedom Day

Happy Freedom Day everyone!

Today, 13 years ago, South Africa held its first free and fair, democratic elections. 27 April 1994. Unfortunately, I was only 14 - too young to vote. Our nearest polling station was just a block or two away from my house, and the queue from the polling station reached about half way to our house. I don't think I really understood the importance of the occassion at the time, maybe to an extent, but not fully. But I remember how excited everyone was. I remember my mom sending me home to get biscuits for the people in the queue around us, as we waited for hours in the sun.

Today is Freedom Day, in celebration of that day. When we hear "freedom day," maybe we interpret it to mean that on that day the 80% or so of our population who were opressed gained their freedom, in the form of the right to vote. Which is true and very worth celebrating. But in actual fact, we all received our freedom that day. Because if that day hadn't come, I would not be free to be friends with the people I am friends with now, to go the places I go, to live the life I live. I would be privileged, but not free. So today we celebrate freedom for all of us, symbolised by the vote of April 27, 1995.

In the words of Melissa Steyn, "South Africa has never been more normal than it is now."

Waving goodbye to 2006

So 2006 is coming to a swift end. To close the year, our picture is of Kez and Muts on holiday at Titsikama earlier in the year, the cool chicks.

I apologise for the lack of posts recently. I know I didn't finish off my last post about "What is a maser?" I was holding back on posting anything else until I had finished that, but I think I will just have to finish it later. Watch this place.

I'm working on my new years resolutions. I never really make new years resolutions, because I never keep them, so why bother...? But I like to have some sort of general approach to the year to come.

Some general thoughts I have on going into the new year are...
* Being chilled out, no pressure.
* Focus on work, enjoying work and giving more time to work.
* Being more adventurous with my friends. I dearly love the friends I have, but I spend one heck of alot of time with the same people. So I think I need to start being a bit braver and hanging out with some different people.
* Worshipping God and loving people.

What is a maser?

What is a maser?
The word maser is an acronym for Microwave Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation.
The word laser stands for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation - its the same process, but lasers work with visible light, whereas masers work with microwave frequency radiation.

Okay, so a maser is an invisible laser, working as microwave frequencies (frequencies quite a bit lower than those of visible light). Whats with the "Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation" bit?

Well, lets start off by looking at what stimulated emission is. Say you have an atom or molecule - it has lots of energy levels (remember drawing electrons in the different energy levels of an atom at school?). Usually the lowest energy levels are all full, and the upper levels are maybe a bit full, but not much.

So we start off in a low energy state... Then a photon of light comes along - a photon of just the right frequency for the molecule - and the molecule absorbs the photon. Now it has more energy, and the higher energy level is more full. This is called absorbtion. Thats the first was atoms or molecules (particles, for the sake of brevity!) can interact with radiation, or light. The picture below illustrates two energy levels of a particle. The wave is a photon, that gets absorbed by the particle, moving it to a higher energy state.



The second way particles interact with radiation is called spontaneous emission. When our particle has absorbed a photon it is in a higher energy state, but its not really stable. It wants things to be back to normal, comfortable with all the lowest energy levels full. So the particle spontaneously emits a photon of the same special frequency for the atom, and drops back to a lower energy.

This is actually how scientists can tell what the sun and stars and the Milky Way are made of. We look out into the sky and capture the radiation from a particular object. Then we look for special frequencies that ony come from certain particles - we call emission or absorbtion of these special frequencies spectral lines. If we see those special frequencies, we know we are seeing that element or molecule. For example, I look at silicon monoxide, SiO, which is at a frequency of 43122.03 MHz. When we see emission at that frequency, we know it is SiO.

But I've got side-tracked from the main question - what is a maser? Tune in to the next post for the answer!

Too good

This book is great, I cant help myself, here is another quote:

... But the trouble with deep belief is that it costs something. And there is something deep inside of me, some selfish beast of a subtle thing that doesn't like the truth because it carries responsability, and if I actually believe these things I have to do something about them. It is so, so cumbersome to believe anything. And it isn't cool. I mean its cool in a Reality Bites, Welcome to Sarajevo, Amnesty International sense, but that is only as good as dreadlocks. Chicks dig it to a point, but you can't be all about it; you also have to want a big house and expensive clothes because in the end, our beliefs are about as enduring as seasonal fashion.

Its from a chapter entitled "Belief." He speaks about his friend "Andrew the Protester," who is a Christian, and politics wise, a liberal. Andrew goes to protests, he's an anti-Bush, anti-IMF kinda guy. And on Saturday mornings he feeds the homeless, hangs out with his homeless friends. The author, Donald, says of Andrew: "My Republican friends get frustrated when I paint Andrew as a hero, but I like Andrew because he actually believes things that cost him something. Even if I disagree with Andrew, I love that he is willing to sacrifice for what he believes."

Andrew is the one who taught me that what I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do.

Blue Like Jazz

A quote from the book Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller:

"My most recent faith struggle is not one of intellect. I don't really do that anymore. Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don't believe in God and they can prove He doesn't exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now its about who is smarter, and honestly I don't care. I don't believe I will ever walk away from God for intellectual reasons. Who knows anything anyway? If I walk away from Him, and please pray that I never do, I will walk away for social reasons, identity reasons, deep emotional reasons, the same reasons that any of us do anything."

... not to say we shouldn't exercise out minds in our faith, but I think that this quote has alot of truth in it. It kindof reminds me of Psalm 131:
"Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty: neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high for me..." (KJV) - I would have preferred to quote it from the NIV, but my Bible is at home unfortunately!

Its a great book, I recommend it. Very hounest, open, authentic. And because of his authenticity, I think, he leads you along with him into lots of amazing truths about God and Christianity. Rather than just informing you of them, or teaching you about them. Its a bit like what Gareth ways saying in "Apologetic of the heart" - you feel like you are a pilgrim on a journey with him.

The authors note in the beginning says "Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way." Beautiful.

Wonderful

from here.