The Lighter Side of Race

First, some terms:

NP = National Party, the Afrikaans-dominated apartheid government
ANC = African National Congress, the Xhosa-Dominated current government
Quotas = specific percentages of black persons that must be employed at a jobsite or on a team. A sort of Affirmative Action to help black persons previously disadvantaged under Apartheid.

So now I am in the city of Pretoria where I lived as a child. Pretoria is at the centre of one of the biggest name-changing controversies in Sunny South Africa... but let me explain. After the ANC took over leadership in 1994, they decided to be offended (and not without cause) that all the cities, streets and buildings were named after Afrikaaner heroes. Much like we would balk living on Hitler avenue or Stalin street, the ANC decided to change some names. Fair enough, but of course the Afrikaans population doesn't like it much. The argument between "hero" and "opressor" becomes especially heated in Afrikaans-dominated Pretora, named after Pretorious, white hero of the battle of Blood River where the Zulu were routed. People on both sides of the name-changing controversy are bitter and determined, while the rest of us wonder how much bloody money could be saved and poured into schools and hospitals.

The ANC seems to flop between saving money, and spending it stupidly. Therefore when you drive to the airport, you can find 3 different sign-names. The Jan Smuts Airport, named after a white President who ran AGAINST the NP, was deemed offensive and changed, logically, to Johannesburg International Airport. However, this wasn't quite patriotic enough, so it was then rechanged to Oliver Tambo Airport (Tambo was ANC leader before Mandela, I think.) The more prominent road signs now have 2 sheets of tin bolted over top of the name, one covering "Jan Smuts" with "Joburg International" and a second, smaller sheet, covering that with "Oliver Tambo..." The less prominent signs remain unchanged to save money.

For lesser destinations, they barely botherd to change any signs at all... drive to "Polokwane" and you follow mostly signs saying "Pietersburg". In PE, you have 3 names to contend with when following a map: The Original Afrikaans (ie Bothalaan), the English (Botha Street) and the New English (Steve Bilko Street). The map you are following will call ti something like like "Main Road."

Name changing, of course, does nothing in and of itself. Jobs, too, are entitled to affirmative action. Blacks get priority over whites (remember that whites had been given priority since forever.) However, in Africa, nothing gets simple... At the University my great uncle works at, a job opening will always go to a qualified black over an equally qualified white, in order to meet quotas. Fair enough. Not just South African blacks though... a foreign black man, such as a highly educated Nigerian who has come to SA for greater opportunity, counts as "black" in the hiring process, thus having an advantage over South African whites, and less educated South African blacks. (One wonders how that could possibly help black South Africans.) However, once he is hired, he stops counting as "black" towards the quota. And no, I don't know why.

In sports, things get worse. Wrestling is a sport that lends itself to easy picking of a national team- national champion goes. Most countries do it like that. SA, of course, needs to be difficult.. the coaches pick the team. I was privileged to train with, and compete against, the 2 best 84 kg wrestlers in the country, one of which is the African Championship and the other placed 13th in the world. One is a white Afrikaaner, the other a black man from the DRC... since the two of them are fairly equal on the mat, great politics go into picking the national team athlete... depending on who you believe "I'm better but they try to pick him because he's black" or "I'm better but they try to pick him because his coach is on the committee"... finally they realized that there are 2 styles of wrestling in South Africa, and decided to specialize in one each.

For the truly bizarre. we turn to rugby. This story was told to me by my great-uncle, and with Pretoia's exorbitant internet rates I can't afford to check names or details, but I'm fairly sure he didn't make it up...

A white rugby player deems himself good enough to make the Springbok team, but blames animosity with the coach for not getting picked. (Rugby is a sport where quotas are a huge deal... it is the favorite sport of Afrikaaners, who argue that inferior black players are picked over superior white ones, weakening the national squad. Whether this is based on the reasonable conclusion that most black athletes don't care abour Rugby or simple racism I don't know.)

However, some supporters of our white hero did some digging into the athlete's past and unearthed some facts... his father had been a strong (white) opponent of Apartheid, and had allied himself with the black "freedom fighters". As such, our rugby player (through choice or discrimination I don't know) spent his youth playing rugby in the black townships, not with other white athletes. This man, argue his supporters, should be seen not as "white" but as "black" since, despite his skin color, he was "disadvantaged" by the previous white regime. As a black rugby player, he could then make the team under the quota.

Since the press got hold of the story that a white man wanted to be counted "Quota Black" they have had a field day. Digging into the past and financial situation of every athlete on the national squad, they speculate on who should be racially re-classified based on their past experiences. Only in Africa...

Oh, by the way, I am heading to Windhoek on Tuesday, to catch either wildlife, or sharks, or hopefully both.

Finally, congrats to the Ottawa Senators for making the Stanley Cup finals without a single close series. Congrats to Team Canada for winning another World Hockey Championship. And thanks to the lovely Kathryn, now on her way home to Canada, for making our trip together truly amazing.

A PILE OF SUCK

Please, person reading this post, take a second to stop reading and offer up the following prayer: "I pray that soon, I will be able to read a post that starts with: car working, school painted, plans made."

Thank you... for now, my car is busted again, and the clutch-piston-thingy that is leaking is hard to find. Hopefully we get one soon, or there will be major suckage. My lack of transport also leaves me unable to get to the school where I am supposed to be running some classroom paintings. Hopefully, my very capable parter can see things through, and my very capable mechanic can get the car part we need.

Otherwise, not a whole lot going on, hence my lack of posting... school was out for 2 weeks, which stopped the school program. I went to a Greco-Roman training camp, went a round against a guy who was 13th in the world and is also my new room-mate, and beat the crap out a big cocky guy from Brackenfell, which single-handedly convinced me that I am finally getting the hang of Greco-Roman wrestling, apart from the clinch, which I loathe.

Oh, and a firecracker blew up in my hand... an idiot friend of mine wanted to toss it off a truck, while we were parked at a gas station where people were busy pumping gas. I grabbed it from him, and thought I put it out... didn't.. bang! suprisingly I wasn't hurt.

I hope to have an actual post, with actual news on it, soon. Things really aren't anywhere near as bad as my title, "pile of suck" just happens to be one of my favorite phrases.

Evil Forces

"Every two weeks, I pick a man and I make him a woman. He washes my clothes, and brings me food, and I have sex with him. If he refuses I kill him."- General of the "28s" gang, Pollsmore prison.

"I left my gun on the table when my son was two. It was loaded. He shot himself through the chest, and died in my arms on the way to the hospital. I trust in God that, one day, I will see him again." Leader of the "Americans" gang, Mennenberg.

These two quotes (and to be honest, I paraphrased) are from a video discussing gang activity in South Africa. The first gangster, imprisoned for life in Pollsmore, has so much power he rapes people weekly, and has killed several, on the inside without reprocussion. The guards fear and respect him, and the entire prison population jumps at his command. He is a king in prison, ruling the fortress that should be punishing him by fear.

The 2nd gangster leads the most-feared street gang in South Africa (which is currently battling the 28s for drug turf.) Haunted by his past, inspired by his firm religous beliefs which make it crystal clear that his lifestyle as atrocious, he still has no intention of quitting his life of crime. The money made from tik (crystal meth) is just too good. The entire justice system is so corrupt- cops, judges, prison guards- that the crooks at the top can brag about their crimes on television and still get away with it.

Hearing such statements, and talking with members of their gangs in prison, I find it easy to believe in the Devil. In Evil, real and living and active, twisting ordinary human beings to do horrible things. When heterosexual men gang-rape boys for the fun of it, when devout Christians live lives that cry out "don't do this- ever!" something is seriously wrong. We can try to explain such behavior, I'm sure, citing psychology and sociology and pharmacy and historical factors. We might even explain it well. However, behind it all I see the hand of an evil mastermind, a spiritual being dedicated to screwing up the world as most it can.

Christians (and some other religons) call this being Satan, of course. In churches back home we believe in Satan- the Bible mentions him after all- but we don't think about him that much. Mostly, he seems to make people tired at prayer meetings and cranky at staff meetings at camp. In South Africa, theologans analyze the Bible regarding Satan to a ridiculous degree. They come up with highly inventive and shockingly specific explanations about Satan's past, his future, his present powers, the ranks and names of his evil minions, and even his appearance. While I find the theology fanciful, I now understand the emphasis: in Africa, the hard work of Evil Beings is easy to see, and people gleefully hop on board.

Consider, finally, what I consider the most depressing- and fascinating- part of the Bible:

When the thousand years are over, Satan will be released from his prison and will go out to deceive the nations in the four corners of the earth—Gog and Magog—to gather them for battle. In number they are like the sand on the seashore. They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God's people, the city he loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them.
Revelation 20

For those not familiar with the book of Revelation, this event takes place after Satan has been in prison for 1000 years and God rules the earth. Basically, people have been living in heaven-on-earth while Satan has long hours to think about not pissing God off anymore. However, Satan is (apparently) so evil that, knowing full well he will get his butt kicked again, he rushes off to cause more misery (much like many of Pollsmore's prisoners, who spend their whole lives in-and-out of jail.) And human beings, having lived in heavenly conditions for 1000 years, decide to fight for Evil. What could compel one to do such a thing? (Don't tell me they are innocently misled. They have 1000 years to see what is right, they can see God face-to-face and ask Him if they have questions, they even have the book of Revelation before them to explain what's going on.) Evil beckons and human beings willingly follow, spitting in the face of what could have been. We do not, today, have the ablility to see God face-to-face. Few of us will ever join a street gang. We may never even shoplift instead of working. However, I wonder how often we- myself included- do the exact same thing on a different scale. Knowing exactly, without a doubt, that something is wrong, we shrug our shoulders and do it anyway.

I hate to end this post on such a miserable note, but I feel that if I make it longer it will start to look dumb. I will mention, however, a glimmer of hope, perhaps the only hope against supernatural evil: supernatural good. My faith may tell about the devil, but it also says that no human being, no matter how messed up, is beyond redemption. In a subsequent post, which will require a lot of thought (and thus might take a while) I want to explore the possibility of human beings choosing to side with supernatural Good (and after all, many do... in Revelation, countless human beings do NOT follow Satan), what that looks like, and the results it has.

Doorknobs

Like a swarm of screwdriving pirannahs, an army of YMCA workers, students in the peer education program and caretakers descended on Groenvlei High School today, removing old and broken doorknobs and replacing them with shiny new ones. Step one of our restoration plans was a sucess.

Pictures:

1) Locks galore
2) Installation
3) Peer Educators group photo
4) This road divides 2 gang turfs

Edit: Today (the next day) is also worth writing down... This morning, going to a store to pick up a meat-pie, I got too close to a money truck and a guard pointed a massive shotgun at me. Most of the day was spent supervising a teacher-less classroom, managing insane jr. high kids all day. I counted 5 comments from the girls about my beautiful blue eyes, while the boys just threaten to stab everything in sight. At one point I physically had to bar the door and shove kids out of the entrance to keep them in the class. My partner drew a massive penis on the board during one long impassioned speech, and in the final class, a student vomited out his nose.

SCHOOL PROJECT

Wrestling results: I wrestled in a small tournament in Robertson, took 2nd. I pinned the SA high school champ in a wild match with a bunch of throws, and I finally caught him on his back in a scramble 6-1. 3-6, 5-1 pin). I lost in the finals to the SA Sr. Champ (0-6, 0-4). I got his legs several times but couldn't finish my shots.

Now to hype my project:

The location: Hanover park, a suburb in the Cape Flats notorious for its gang wars.

The school: Groenvlei high school, and under-staffed, heavily vandalised high school with an 80% rate of student failure. Because of it's location the buildings are under heavy attack, both from vandalising students, and from drug addicts who brave the razor-wiring at night to steal anything they can sell to a scrapyard.

The mission: To improve the school buildings. We are going to involve the "Peer Educator" students taught by the YMCA. Our hope is that, in addition to improving the school, we will instill students with a sense of ownership, so they will feel protective and respectful of the work they have done.

Specific steps:
A (next Tuesday): 25 door knobs have been broken or removed from doors. Along with the peer educators, we are replacing them with new, lockable door handles. All supplies have been bought, thanks to a generous donation by a certain reader of this blog.

B (coming up): We want to paint several of the peeling, grafitti-splattered classrooms. This will be a major undertaking, including moving an entire class at a time. We have most of the supplies ready, though we may need more paint.

C (hopeful plan): We want to re-wire the intercom system. Much of the wiring has been stolen. However, the quote the school got is rediculous, so I hope to find an electricial willing to do it at cost, with ourselves or students doing much of the labor. This one, if it happens, will cost a lot of time and money.

You can help: We can use as much prayer as possible. In fact, all of Hanover park needs a lot of prayer! Financially, we have all we need for now.. however, if we start needing more paint, or if the wiring project goes ahead, I will not be shy in asking for donations on this blog...

Anyway, that's the goal. I'll keep updates posted.

MITCHELLS PLAIN

(Note: To see how the wrestling went, check post below this one.)

Wow. Sometimes this place scares the shit out of me.

Yesterday, I was in a sketchy-looking parking lot with 3 YMCA workers (my immediate partner and our 2 female bosses) when some drunk men began, persistently, to hassle us for money. The girls freaked out "lets' go before they attack us!" so we jumped into me car and I peeled out of the lot, feeling very cool.

I thought they were being a tad dramatic. Then one of them launched into a story- her sister had, earlier that week, been caught in a massive gunfight between two gangs- IN the Police Station- A couple blocks away from the YMCA. Wow. The other girl didn't have a cool story, but today she was robbed. Oh well. Everyone in Mitchell's Plain has been robbed.

Today, waiting to judge a high school debate on abortion (particularly gripping because, statistically, many of the participats will be raped at some point in their lives) I had a truly bizarre discussion with my partner about theology (again.) It blew my mind. He has a strong loathing of Roman Catholicism, because they apaprently mixed the truth of Christianity with paganism. True, maybe, but iw was wierd for him to say it because he is a pretty unorthodox christian who doesn't believe in hell (score- there's more of us every day) and thinks that eternal life is a kind of reinarnation. Then he went into his beliefs on history and geography and race, drawing heavily on the books of Genesis and Revelation and truly bizarre interpretations therof.

His arguments deflated when I convinced him that Isreal is in the Middle East, not Africa, and that the race-based theology of his "experts" was used to justify apartheid. This brand of Christianity is like another world for me. (Homework assignment: flip througha book by "Rebecca Brown: MD". Do so without reading what other doctors have to say about dr. Brown. That's the kind of thinking I'm talking about.)

I am battling with feelings of racism myself these days. It sucks. Comes not from hanging out with Afrikaaners, I think, but from hanging out with colored people... Because I work with mostly the colored culture, all my fears and frustrations are directed towards people of that race, and I long to escape to sanctuary among "my people" who think the way I think, work the way I work and isolate themselves from areas of crime. I know I'm a terrible person, and that scares me toom, because every time I go off feeling superior fate, or God, or my subconscious, makes me do something really stupid so I feel humble again. I don't want to be humbled again.

Anyway, my posts keep coming out negative, complaining and whiny and all that. I'm sorry. I really am. i want to write about people's lives being changed, people overcoming adversity, hope and fun and adventure. I really do. I don't know why I feel so melancholy lately, or why I'm not thrilled to be doing this. I think my sights are set too high.

Fixing the Problem: Part 2

Personal notes:
Lockdown in prison today, no acess for us, so I'm blogging. I will be in Mpumalanga for most of the week, trying to gain a spot on the South African wrestling team in freestyle and greco. I have no idea what to expect, but it will be tough. As always I love emails and comments, but it might be some time before I have computer acess again.

‘Does HIV cause Aids? Aids is an acquired immune deficiency syndrome. I don’t believe it is a sensible thing to ask if a virus causes a syndrome. A single virus cannot cause a syndrome. A virus causes a disease. Aids is a syndrome … including 29 different diseases. When you ask the question, does HIV cause Aids, the question is: does a virus cause a syndrome? It can’t.’
- South African President Thabo Mbeki

If you do not realize why the above statement is re idiotic, please read up on HIV/AIDS before reading the rest of this post. (In short, HIV does cause AIDS!)

If part 1 of FTP is brutal right-wing conservatism (better policing) part 2 is the epitome of left-wing liberalism. Education. Educated people make better decisions. I have a double stake in promoting this education: as a teacher by profession, I've been trained (indoctrinated?) to value education. As a worker for the YMCA, I've chosen education as my volunteer labor. My main job involves going into schools and prisons, helping programs that teach people self-control and good decision making skills. I've also gone on Christain radio and offered "advice" to the listeners. Education rules.

Lack of knowledge is killing South Africa. Not just intellectually or financially, but also physically. While our doctors work their fingers to the bone combatting AIDS, lobbying for cheap antiretroviral drugs (the drugs that keep HIV+ people alive)and and running education programs our polititians make stupid statements like the one above. (Stay tuned for the 'politics' part of FTP, when I will discuss more stupid politicans). Idiots. Mind boggling, rage-inducing idiots. It would be hilarous it if weren't so tragic. AIDS is a miserable way to die. When our politicans act backwards and stupid that makes other countries want to avoid dealing with us.

Educatiors fight against more than just lack of knowledge. We fight against "culture". It is always a sensitive subject, trying to change someone's historical or traditional beliefs, but sometimes protection of life must rule over cultural ideas. It is NOT okay for a man to have sexual rights over his wife or girlfriend (ie she can't say no) in an HIV-flooded land. It is NOT okay for people to believe that raping a virgin will take your AIDS away. (Of course, people who choose to follow those cultural ideas conveniently forget that traditionally, black African culture was sexually conservative.)

There actually are many education progarms in South Africa, working with mixed sucess. Reading over questionaires filled in by students in low-income areas, most kids seem to understand the basics of AIDS. This makes me happy. Prisons are flooded with education programs. Even the government spends money educating. The YMCA seeks teach people "how to think" rather than just how to act. We target gang leaders in prison, and train "peer educators" in schools. We teach students how to deal with their emotions, differentiate fact from oppinion, say no to peer pressure, and strongly suggest abstinence until marriage. Many groups follow the ABC plan in AIDS education: Abstain, Be faithful to one partner, use a Condom. with each step safer than the one below it. Slowly, painfully slowly, messages get through. People change and make new lives for themselves.

Of course, the problems with education are two-fold:
1) There is dispute over what is "good" to teach. (Example: do we emphasize condom use or complete abstinence?) I've been told by medical students that professors made fun of them for not experimenting sexually. This seems silly- all religous or moral reasons aside, there are damn good MEDICAL reasons to be sexually conservative in Africa. Not all ideas are good ones, and not all knoweldge is helpful. South Africa would be a much better place if no one knew how to make Cryztal Meth.

2) Knowing something and doing it are two different things. South Africans are notorious for not acting on their knowledge, or for ignoring obvious truth. Thabo MBeki HAS to now what the global consensus on AIDS is. Willful ignorance is easy enough, especially when surrounded by so much real ignorance.

Prisoners are more than willing to tell long, reasonable stories about the mistakes they made in their past, the wrong paths they went down, the wasted years, and how they are changed people now. Once they get out onto the streets (or even out of the YMCA meeting) it's a different story. Many of them have been in prison repeatedly. Who is to say this stint, this class, makes a difference? There are social and economic reasons why people reoffend, of course, and we need to deal with those also, but you can't underestimate the willingness, or unwillingness, of human beings to make good choices for themselves.

Talking to medical students in South Africa, they are driven to total frustration by the unwillingness of patients to follow simple doctors orders. "Take these antiretrovirals, at X dosage, at Y time each day, and it will extend and drastically improve your life." And the patients take them sparodically, only when they happen to feel like it, and then the ARV's do nothing except make you sicker. How can you help people that won't take a bloody pill to curb horrible suffering? Tuberculosis, almost unknown in the west, is reaching epidemic proportions in South Africa, partly because people don't take their medicine to completion, creating drug-resistant TB.

I could go on and on... How do you educate against laziness? Against a person who would rather beg than get a real job and contribute to society? Live off government handouts rather than make an honest living? The lack of commitment to doing a good job, being punctual, backing up your commitments, ideas we take for granted in North America, are comically lacking in Africa. Really. Not all South Africans are like this, of course: many, many people are hard-working, honest, and dedicated. However, negative trends are easy to see. These are not the rants of a crazy Ann Coltour-type conservative. These are honest observations made by many people from different racial, social and political backgrounds. You really can teach a man to fish, but you can't make him get on the boat.

Education is great. Education is necessary. Education is hope for the people of Africa. But without motivation, Eucation will fail. We must continue to educate the people of South Africa. However, we must not fall into the trap of thinking that it will solve all problems by itself.

Fixing the Problem: part 1

Time to stop whining and fix problem. The problem that is South Africa. (No, not by blogging, I'm merely sharing the ideas of otheres here.) That is, after all, what organizations like the YMCA, YCN ministries and the like are trying to do. South Africans have the resources and the infrastructure to do well. What we lack, is what every other place on earth lacks as well: morality. Good, old fashioned morality may no longer be a catchy phrase, but in a place like South Africa its lack is glaringly and tragically obvious. "Though shalt not steal"- "though shalt not kill"- "though shalt not sleep around"- "though shalt get off thy fat ass and do some work"- "though shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, even if their skin color is different"- if people truly believed, and did these things, South Africans could enjoy the beauty and diversity of their country without living in fear.

I intend to write several posts about different things suggested here to fix the problems.


Solution 1: Meet force with bigger force.

Don't dismiss brute force out of hand. Every justice system in the world uses it: crime = jail. Fear is a powerful motivatior. Speeding tickets slow down drivers. Failing grades make students study. Even religons use concepts like karma, and hell, to coerce people into doing good.

It's a common request in South Afrioa (even amongst liberal, loving, level-headed people) that we bring back the death penalty. Our liberal constitution is not suited to the bloodthirsty populace. Sample story: a friend of a friend was driving to JoBurg when his car was hijacked by 4 heavily armed thugs. One smashed him upside the head with the butt of a shotgun, but as he fell, the man (who happened to be an ex-soldier and a crack shot) pulled his custom-made pistol from his sock and laid waste with it. The robbers riddled the van with machine gun fire but the man broke the trap and tore off, leaving one of his attackers dead. The man, who had acted purely in self-defense, spent the rest of the year fighting a lawsuit, because the man he had shot turned out to be an off-duty policeman. The law often helps the guilty, it seems. Often crime does pay, while the law screws around with auto registration.

I sympathize with the man. I don't have a gun or anything (nor do I intend to get one) but the other day walking at night, I was approached by large black men and my hand went quickly to the knife in my pocket. Paranoia rules the day here. "What's this guy doing? Trying to sell stuff to drivers?" "Or checking them out to find one to hijack."

Worse, as civilians are starting to arm themselves in self-defence, criminals resort to pre-emptive violence. "The good ones stab first, then rob" a man incarcerated for armed robbery told me. He has been in jail 6 times and he's 20. South Africa's penal system is backed up to a crazy extent. People await trial for months, while criminals found guilty are released for lack of space. There are no halfway houses, no place for first-time offenders, so kids that get arrested for shoplifting come out members of prison gangs. (to join a gang, you have to stab a warden or get sodomized.) The real thugs don't fear the police, they shoot the police. What's a man with a wife and kids and a pistol to do against a carjacking gang with AK-47's? Tragically, in many cases it's "join them".

It seems clear- and this is after much discussion, with South Africans of different races, experiences and social groups- that we need to get ourselves a new police force, and fast. The old Apardheid-era police force was efficent, but brutal. I don't suggest we bring them back; it's no suprise that the new goverment and their opressors refused to work together, and loathe the cruelties of the old regime. The new police force needs to be tough, but fair. I've always advocated US marine-type soldiers that aren't stuck in Iraq. Men that are well armed, well trained, wear body armour and kind of hungry for trouble. Men then know how to shoot, do things by the book, and are well paid.

A Cape Town police chief asked me what I would do to improve policing here and I said "pay them more". He arged that cops already make enough and the police force needs instead to be instilled with a sense of pride. Cops, he says, no longer feel loyalty to law and order and the badge. Rather, they want to make maximal money with minimal risk. When dealing with organized crime, this is clearly not okay. The laziness, slopiness and general inefficiency of the rest of Africa can not be allowed to taint the justice system, and right now it clearly does.

I feel terrible writing much of this. I know former gang members. I work with them, I try to help in them in prison, they are my friends. Yesterday one of them fixed my car. They are human beings, with families and thoughts and feelings, just like the rest of us. I don't want to wish them harm. I don't want them to be arrested or sodomized or killed.

I don't consider myself especially bloodthirsty; I haven't been in a street fight since grade 9, and I still wince whenever I'm killing fish. I wish I could say that love, hope, and gentleness can win the day. And, in many cases, it can. Seeing the difference in the lives of criminals- murderers- that have found the love of God and a purpose to live is amazing and inspiring. But until the time that all of them are willing to do that, people will keep dying. Innocent people. Women and children are caught in the crossfire of gang wars every day. School children tell me stories about avoiding bullets. More cops, more guns, more jails is a terrible solution, but I fear it is a necessary one.

South Africa, get some cops that fear nothing, shoot straight and spit on bribes. It's time to crack down.

Frick, Man...

Things were going so well. My car was resgistered, I finally went to school and prison, I even have my own school program to set up. In wrestling practice, i was racking up the points on everyone- even the good guys. Then I stepped wrong, got tossed on my back, and the weekend went to hell.

To sum up:

throat = sore

internet acess = gone, because the people whose computer I was using virused the crap out of it, downloading songs but not purchasing antivirus software despite my many warnings, then suggested I had wrecked it.

home = moving. The people I am living with decided to move to Gurut next week (they were supposed to move in March. I now need to find a new place to stay, at least until they get settled.

fishing trip = cancelled. I booked a trip on a boat. It was too windy to go out, so i sat on a dock, wached the seals play below, wrestled my bait away from seabirds and caught 8-inch fish for the local kids. (This part was actualy kind of fun.)

Insurace companies = scam artists, springing hidden costs on my at the last moment, because of which my car is still uninsured. (This is legal here... injury claims caused by accidents are covered by a gas tax you pay when you fill up.)

Cell phone = not working. This problem was quickly solved.

Hubcap = off. I found it again, but this does not bode well for the future.

Wallet = stolen. This one sucks big time. Luckily it was taken by subterfuge, not violence. I still don't know how "they" got it, unnless it fell out of my pocket when i say down, but in the 3 minutes between using wallet and missing wallet it was nowhere to be found. I spent most of the evening cancelling cards, which was luckily sucessful.

Sometimes when this much suck happens, you can only sit back and laugh, try to think of funny things, like the thought of some homeless guy (there's scores in Muizenberg, stubbornly refusing to use the shelters) running around swiping my mastercard in electronics stores. Or look on the bright side, I guess, and be thankful my boat didn't capsize, I didn't land on my head, my phone works again, my sister will lend me money and Mastercard will not charge all those TV's to my account.

First Impressions: Volunteer Work

Transport:
I am driving daily into Mitchell's Plain,a crime infested, low-to-mid income suburb of Cape Town with an overwhelmingly Colored population. Driving for the first couple of days has been (to use the South African term) quite hectic. Armed only with a map book and my brave little Uno (which has all the horsepower of an actual horse) I went out to battle the dual forces of my own pathetic sense of direction, and the comically confusing road signs. I eventually found all of my destinations, but not without some epic wrong turns, or without tasting my heart in my throat a few times. People on South African roads drive in one of two styles: Granny and Absolute Maniac. Everyone jaywalks, weaves through traffic like it's going out of styles, and kids play “chicken” on the highways. I've already lost count of the narrow gaps I've had to squeeze my car through, often involving high speeds or police cars. However, now that I know the way I look forward to smoother, easier travel.

Prison:
Same old, same old... Generally being acquainted with prisons is a bad thing, but I come by it honestly, having done Bible studies in prisons, including this one, 3 years ago. The prisons still reek of sweat, the sick bays are still filled with AIDS victims dying slowly, and the criminals are still shockingly friendly with the visitors. This friendship, unfortunately, does not extend to other prisoners, and most of them are forced to join prison gangs, imaginatively labeled the “26s” “27s” and “28s”. The gangs look out for their own, fight each other, and pick on- or sodomize- those with no gang to protect them. We got a prison tour Monday; our classes start Thursday.

School:
The school looks much like a prison. The fences are razor-wired, with an electronic gate providing or preventing access, many windows are broken, and all are covered with iron bars. Students wear uniforms, though more attractive ones than those of inmates. The school I went to is in an area so vicious that people refuse to use their cell phones while walking the streets; it's an invitation to get robbed, or worse. Today while walking to the school, my co-teacher (boss, really) heard gun shots. He is a real fun guy who is employed full time with the YMCA, with Rastafarian-style dreadlocks, a red visor cap and an easygoing manner. The school itself cheerfully exudes the surreal gong-show atmosphere that is Africa.

We spent much of the day making out classroom inhabitable, as it is being used as a storage room, as well as a smoke room by the security guards. Nothing says “school pride” like leaving your butts around in a classroom for the YMCA guys to clean up. We're still recruiting members for our “Peer Education” class and getting them to fill out questionnaires, mostly about sex and the murderously flawed notions that many Africans have about STI's. The South African classroom is truly a battleground where the “personal freedom” message of liberalism comes up against the cold hard reality of promiscuity = death.

Then we had to go from room to room, finding last year's Peer Education students for a catch-up meeting. (Our Intercom was broken so we couldn't call the kids). Apparently the original classroom doors were all stolen, and when they were replaced no-one though to number the new ones correctly, so classrooms 56, 7 and 23 might be side-by-side-by-side.

The most bizarre meeting was with a substitute teacher, who began to preach to my co-worker about the sad state of South African youth (something that he's well acquainted with, that being his job) while I dodged advances from high school girls. Finally the sub asked one of the female students, who was draped around his neck for some reason, to lift up her shirt to show us the bullet wound on her stomach and explain what getting shot feels like. We beat a hasty retreat, mumbling excuses.

Neighbors:
Whackjobs. Sick of yelling at their mother and trying to steal our dog, the two boys (high school drop outs from the looks of things) got nice and high/drunk and yelled threats at me from their house tonight. I shrugged it off and am not too worried (when I mentioned it to some wrestling buddies, they enthusiastically suggested ways to “sort out” the problem. Mrs. R and the kid are home alone a lo,l so if we get any more trouble we might call the police.

Training

Your lungs are on fire. Everything hurts. Your eyes sting with salt. Your mouth tastes sweat- blood? and your spit is dry. Over the sound of your ragged gasps, you hear the whistle go- damn that whistle- and you step onto the mat once again. You slap hands with your opponent, a quick, friendly facsimile of the handshake you would give in an actual match, and begin to wrestle. Feinting, weaving, clasping arms, slapping heads, trying to find an opening, then the explosion, a sudden vicious blast of energy- a scramble perhaps, wild and spectacular, if the first attack misses, with others turning their heads to watch the action, and one of you is down and the other is on top, squeezing the ribs, struggling to gain back points and, more important, regain your breath...

Wrestling practices have been savage here in South Africa (not that they were easy back home either). South Africans wrestle a very "American" style, constant leg attacks, shot after shot after shot. A methodical (or "stalling" or "lazy") wrestler like myself rarely has time to set up for an attack before the onslaught comes. Lucklily, this provides many openings for counter attacks. You wouldn't believe how vulnerable these guys are do a simple waist lock throw.

At our club we spend most of our time on conditioning, which is quickly beating me into shape, though I wish we would spend more time refining technique- what good is it to be fresh for 10 minutes, if a more techincal opponent can pick you apart in 6? Anyway, I'm enjoying myself when I'm not leaning over wanting to vomit.

The car registration saga is still an expensive gong show, and I will refrain from comenting until it has resolved itself. It struck me yesterday,along with the toys the 4 year old kid was tossing at my head, that maybe I'm meant to learn humility and patience from this stuff. I decided I don't want to learn humility and patience, I want to learn victory and sucess and life-changing miracles... does anyone ever learn valuable lessons through wealth, or winning, things going smoothly? If so, sign me up. And yes, I'm fully aware of the irony of complaining about a car while the people I want to help are wrestling with drug abuse, HIV, shootings and so on.

An Ode to Stupid

A South African recently chided me by saying that "you westerners think too much". I bit my tongue and didn't ask him if that was why we didn't live on the continent most riddled with crime, disease, civil war and starvation. Turns out you dont' need to reasearch a history of colonialism, go into local culture, or discuss the impact of environmental conditions to understand why Africa is in such a bad way. All you have to do is try to register a car. After repeeated attempts I have discovered that:

Not even jr. high boys can lose, misplace, destroy and otherwise screw up paperwork like people here.

There's about 5 different traffic and police departments. The reason for existence for each of them is to ensure that another department helps you with what you need. They probably bet on it: "hahaha, you provided accurate information, less funding for you."

A mechanic that declares a car is ready to drive, and pass a government road test, when it has no brake lights, no gas gauge, a very loose muffler and a brake situation best described as "murderous" should hang his head in permashame.

On my first day driving on the left hand side of the road, with minimal braking ability and no knowledge of where the streets head, it is not helpful to follow someone who:
a) Runs 2 yellow lights in a row, behind both of which I am stuck.
b) Cuts across a heavy stream of traffic, in which there will be no gap to follow for several minutes
c) takes off through 2 corners while I am still in the freaking parking lot.

I hearby declare South Africa the incompetence capital of the entire world. I, too, am getting into the act. This post is taking forever, since I keep hitting the "crash computer" button, conveniently located next to the "delete" key, and by the time I get back to the laundromat my clothes will probably be stolen.

The Bible on Hell

Sweet moses, I loathe Africa time. I truly and utterly despise it. Nothing works. Everything takes forever. "Quick" meetings take two hours (in Afrikaans, of course), 9 AM means 12:30, and "we'll get your car ready" means "we'll tell the mechanic to start working on it, and we couldn't possibly get it registered before he's done." I've decided the problem in this country isn't racism or poverty, it's boredom. I mean, if you had absolutely nothing to do for your ENTIRE LIFE, wouldn't you be tempted to do drugs or have casual sex or join a gang? On top of that, if it's possible to get too much "God" I'm all over that. Comes from staying with charismatics, I guess, but in between gospel music, long Afrikaans church services, Christian radio and discussions on the Bible (not to mention truly loathsome Christian television) I'm really Spiritual-ed out.


Anyway, speaking of endless misery and the Bible, I finally found a computer where I can upload my study on hell in the Bible. It may not interest everyone. Here it is...


THE BIBLE ON HELL

What is not hell?

Most of the Bible does not mention hell. We might think of faith as mostly “escaping hell” but the Bible doesn't seem to. The “wrathful” Old Testament does not clearly mention hell. The afterworld in Old Testament thought, “Sheol”(Hades in Greek) is a shadowy place, which may not be consciously experienced at all. It is described by Ecclesiastes: “the dead know nothing. They have no further reward, nor are they remembered..” Old Bibles mistranslate Sheol/Hades as “hell”. In one surprising parable in Luke, much beloved by hellfire preachers, a rich man IS tormented by flame in Hades. Was Jesus trying to change beliefs about what Hades is really like? Was he accommodating emerging Jewish ideas (which evolved in the time between the 2 Testaments) about the afterlife into a story about something else altogether? I’m not sure. In any case, Hades/Sheol is a temporary before-judgment holding place destroyed in Revelation.

Paul and John, the big New Testament theologians, don’t talk about hell (except in Revelation) and always present the Gospel as a glorious new plan, not as fire insurance to escape a horrible fate. Christians who grew up believing in hell can read it into a lot of scripture where first-century Jew or Pagan would not do so. When Paul writes he often sounds downright Universalist. This lack of hell in most of the Bible leads me to think hell is a sad backup plan, perhaps banishment for those who refuse to enjoy God’s grace, not a default torture chamber for all who don’t understand theology the right way. Perhaps, if we want to please God, the afterlife will take care of itself.

The most graphic and scary images of hell are presented by Jesus in the synoptic Gospels. He gave them for a reason, and we must not take them lightly. At the same time we should remember that Jesus, our final judge, welcomed sinners who showed the least spark of repentance, promised eternal life to criminals, and forgave soldiers even as they nailed him onto a cross. He also mixes hell warnings with those about the fiery destruction of Jerusalem (which happened 69 AD,I think), so sometimes it’s hard to tell what he’s talking about and how it applies to us.

It is argued by some that the word “hell” should not appear in Scripture at all. When English Bibles say :”hell” Jesus really said “Gehenna”. Gehenna was a disgusting garbage dump in Israel where Pagans had once sacrificed children, a symbol of shame and defilement. Garbage was burned there constantly. Was Jesus speaking about after-death punishment at all in when alluding to Gehenna, or earthy disgrace, or a literal death in the garbage dump upon Jerusalem’s fiery destruction? In some instances he does seem to be speaking of the afterlife, but other “Gehenna” teachings make more sense if they mean “you will be a moral garbage dump” (does anyone really think calling someone a fool will get you thrown into hell?) Interestingly, later Jewish teachings do equate “Gehenna” with after-death punishment, but only for a limited time.

What is hell?

Most “hell” teachings in the Bible are found in the first 3 Gospels, as warnings and parables of Jesus, and in Revelation. Neither parables nor Revelation lead to easy, clear theology. It might be heretical to suggest that different New Testament writers had different ideas about hell, but they certainly expressed them differently. To summarize…

Hell is where the “damned” go after final judgment by Jesus at the end of time, the “Lake of Fire” and “second death” in Revelation The verses that speak of the post-judgment situation are generally found in parables or apocalyptic literature, so it is hard to tell where (if ever) metaphor ends and tangible reality begins. Flame, darkness, eternal death and total destruction are often described, and may be metaphorical because they are somewhat mutually exclusive. All of them suggest hell is very unpleasant place.. Hell is frequently described as exclusion from, and contrasted with, God’s presence, people and rewards.

While some people do believe in a literal hell of fire, some theologians argue the exclusion from God’s goodness causes emotional pain graphically symbolized by flames. After all, when condemning child sacrifice, the Old Testament says that it “never entered God’s mind” to burn children in fire.

People are sad and angry in hell, weeping and gnashing their teeth People feel shamed in hell, and some feel tormented. Satan and his demons are fellow prisoners, not rulers. The punishment of hell is proportional to the evil a person has committed, and the amount of truth they rejected. Hell is not an either-or, one-size-fits-all punishment. Some theologians believe that this is a natural outcome; the more you love evil and reject God, the more miserable you must naturally be if God is in charge. Others believe that God directly administers punishment.

Who goes there?

Those who consciously reject God’s truth and choose evil instead. I was surprised at how clear the Bible is on “conscious rejection”, as shown by an unwillingness to repent and a desire to do evil. Once in hell, they try to argue their case instead of pleading for mercy. The parts of the Bible that stress salvation by “faith” and “belief” in Christ (Paul’s and John’s writing) don’t describe after-death punishments for the "unsaved".. Jesus threatens after-death punishment (and Gehenna) for the willfully disobedient. His strongest threats are to the biggest “conscious rejecters” in history- the Pharisees, who see Jesus’ miracles in person, and chose to crucify instead of believe Him! Jesus warns those who refuse to do good (especially helping the less fortunate) and in Revelation the condemned are defined by their evil deeds.

Belief in Jesus allows one to face final judgment without fear (though his followers still need to give account of themselves), but “faith” is often described in terms of love for God resulting in good deeds, not in the neat "say the prayer of salvation" package usually presented by churches. A person with “faith” who that does not show it in some way has no real faith, and one with little knowledge of Jesus can still show faith. The Bible is unapologetically vague about who goes to hell among those to who have little opportunity to become Christians (especially those who are loving people, which the Bible says comes only from God). However, it is clear that punishment is directly proportional to what was revealed and entrusted to a person. Surprisingly, people who are not conventionally “Christian” are referred to as believers, (in one case, Paul meets some “believers” and then tells them about Jesus!) having faith, pleasing God, and even accusing the more religious but less godly on judgment day.

Is Hell Permanent?

I was unable to get a consistent answer from Scripture, so the best I can do is present evidence for several viewpoints.

Eternal Hell: The majority viewpoint in most Christian groups. Hell lasts forever, and once you are there you are stuck. A believer in this view would point out that hell is sometimes described as “eternal fire” or punishment, and often contrasted with “eternal life”. The flames are “unquenchable” and there is no clear doctrine of escaping hell after death in the Bible. Once the door is closed, the gap can not be crossed, and you are separate from God forever.

Annihilationist: The punishment of hell ends with total destruction, without consciousness (or the damned are simply not resurrected). A believer in annihilation argues that Adam’s sin, and the wages of sin in general, are said to lead to “death”, not eternal punishment. Jesus was killed, not eternally punished, to pay the price for sin. The metaphors describing hell often refer to total destruction, and the burning up of sticks or chaff. “Eternal” refers to the permanency of annihilation, not conscious suffering.

Eventual Universalism: The belief that everyone is eventually saved. A Universalist sites the many verses proclaiming Jesus as the Savior of “all men” and “the world” and glorious prophecies about everyone worshiping God at the end. They also claim that the Greek words calling hell “eternal punishment” are better translated as “age-long correction”, a miserable but temporary condition meant to bring forth repentance and eventual salvation. (The Greek word, “aion” is often used Biblically to describe non-permanent things). In some parables on judgement, people are punished for a set number of blows or until their debt is paid, not forever. Peter talks about people being saved “through the fire” and Paul’s discussion in Romans on the big conscious rejecters of the time, Israel, ends with all of Israel being saved. Revelation can be interpreted as saying that people are excluded from heaven as long as they want to be evildoers instead of “washing their robes” so they can “drink from he river of life”. In the end, death is destroyed and suffering ends. Could this include the “second death?”

References (sort of)

I can’t find all the websites I used but Wikipedia and saviorofall.com’s links were common. Works by C.S. Lewis, J.P. Moreland and Rob Bell and others, as well as discussions with many of my friends, were helpful. Thanks, guys.

I used a “New Living Translation” Bible, but read other versions for some of the verses. It’s daunting to realize how much the theology of the translator shapes what our Bibles say.

From the Archives- South African Prisons

Last time I was in South Africa, I spent 3 weeks doing prison ministry (Bible studies in prison). The work I do on my present trip may or may not be similar. I have purposely replaced names with "the Mission Organization" and the like, since these are my thoughts, not theirs.

Let’s talk about prison. South Africa can’t catch the vast majority of its criminals and it doesn’t have enough jail space for those it does, so it’s a safe guess that those who do jail time aren’t doing it for shoplifting.

Most of the people in jail are members of gangs. If you aren’t a menber of a gang when you go into prison chances are you soon will be. If you don’t are you will probably be abused and raped. The gangs actually have policies about this kind of thing: in some gangs male-on-male rape is acceptable or even an initiation rite, while other gangs don’t allow it on pain of severe beatings.

While prison life can be pretty rough, the prisoners I met were anything but. On the contrary they were polite, friendly and respectful- you wouldn’t realize they were prisoners if they weren’t actually in jail, wearing bright orange jumpsuits that say "Prisoner" on them Even their scars and tattoos don’t make them look scary. They are eager to come to Bible studies, Bible discussions and the like and are living monuments to the power of God to transform people.

The technicalities of prison ministry are easily explained. I visit a different prison every day (there are many near Cape Town), with a team of South African missionarries. The prison guards love to have Christians come into the jails, even if only because a converted prisoner is less likely to cause trouble.

All the prisoners that wish to attend lessons from the organization I work are brought into a room, where the mission people (myself included- I was thrown right in without real instruction) read the Bible, discuss the Bible, give testimonies, do Christian courses from books, all of that stuff. Sure, some of them only come to the classes because a Bible certificate looks good on a parole form, but God can affect people even when they aren’t planning to be affected. The only difficulty for me is that these guys are primarily Afrikaans speaking. My Afrikaans is improving rapidly so that I can follow along with a simple conversation, but when these guys start to get going the language is just too fast and too complicated for me.

Before going into prison, I was worried about my ability to relate positively to guys who have done such terrible things, but these guys are so changed, so repentant, and so eager to live new Godly lives that even when I know what one of them did I feel no anger towards him. In fact some of these prisoners could teach us lessons about willingness and eagerness to serve God.

It’s quite ironic that although I was worried about getting somehow hurt in the jails, the fact is that I have felt pretty safe, even though we have close contact with murderers. I have felt much more fear in the streets of South African cities. However, on one occasion something could have happened: a prison guard who was getting something from his locker failed to realize that his holstered gun was inches away from a prisoners face. The man’s eyes locked onto the weapon and never left it, like a dog stares at the food in a person’s hand. I was too far away to do anything and I didn’t want to accuse the guy of trying something (after all, he was only looking) so I watched nervously. The prisoner ended up not going for the gun, perhaps because the gun was bucked into the holster so it would take a couple of seconds to steal, or because another prisoner touched him on the shoulder and discouraged him with a subtle head shake.

Unfortunately, thes gang violence that is prevalent on the streets does spills over into the prisons as well, and while none of us have been threatened the prisoners themselves aren’t so safe. The most dangerous guys are not the older, hard criminals, but he younger gang members in their late teens or early twenties. They sharpen toothbrushes, smuggle razors into jail on bars of soap, anything to use as a weapon. One day while we were having a Bible Study a fight started outside the room. We couldn’t see what happened but there was a lot of noise, banging and crashing and then the barking of the prison dogs, which are brought in to break up fights because no one wants to mess them. What fascinated me was the reaction in the room- everyone was up and getting excited about it, myself included. "I want to be there" was written plainly on everyone’s face. Young men are drawn to violence for some reason. Perhaps a reason these people fight so much is just that they’re bored and it provides an adrenaline rush…

There are few things sadder than a women’s prison. I was warned beforehand but I was still struck by how depressing a place it is. A lot of men in jail seem to come to grips with their situation and make the best of it. Their tattoos and scars are, in many cases, like badges of honour. The women, of all ages and races look at you and try to act tough act tough but with a haunting terror in their eyes. They, too have scars, not those of street fighters but of abused wives and girlfriends. Their tattoos bear the names of old lovers- quite possibly the men who gave them those scars.

I also got to visit an holding prison where juveniles await trial It is an overcrowded, smelly, joyless place. Many of the inmates are no more than children- We go right into the cells, which are jam-packed fully of filthy, stinky boys who surround you and look at you in a way that is not entirely friendly. I didn’t feel afraid because African missionaries werew with me, but I didn’t feel too comfortable either. One young man in fascinated me because of the look in his eyes. He simply stared off blankly into space, and nothing you said to him got through. His eyes were dead, the stare of a corpse. He is likely dead by now- his cellmates threatened him constantly, for he had raped children. I also spoke to a young man who wanted to become a Christian, but was afraid of his cell mates killing him. I know the standard Bible answer, "whoever loses his life for my sake will save it" but how do I tell that to someone, knowing it might lead to his death? Could I believe, faced with that kind of consequence?

These were some of the "highlights". I apologize for the lack of conclusion. If you are a praying man, remember the men and women of South Africa's prisons in your prayers. If you want more or specific information about this kind of thing, please contact me.