6 November 2007

6 November 2007
Sonanibonani (Siswati for hello to more than one person) to all,
I’m still looking for those darn monkeys. I swear they were there the only day I didn’t take a camera along. They must be hiding from me.
My daily projects have changed a bit. I told you that I started out as a painter with a little dry wall installation on the side. Today I was switched to a gardening detail led by my roommate. At the last minute I was asked if I would mind working with a local plumber and his helper with the development of a spring as a water supply. That sounded very interesting and I eagerly agreed. I’d never had the experience of corralling a spring. I waited an inordinate amount of time for the project crew to arrive to begin whatever one does to make a spring into a water supply. After an hour’s wait, I was informed that the local chief, at the last minute, decided he wasn’t sure that he wanted to approve the project effectively canceling my plans for the day. I was given several options, including the gardening gig, and, because the day had warmed to a pleasant 100 degrees with promise of something higher, I elected to work with a different painting group. We worked on the beginning stages of decorating the young girl’s dormitory with murals of sky, mountains, trees and such. It made for a satisfying if not an exhausting day.
The local chief’s interference is a Swaziland thing. I’ve learned that the land that the orphanage occupies has been provided by the local community at the direction of the king. The local chief has a number of prerogatives to exercise because of the gift nature of the arrangement. The community and the king have lands to loan or give because of the situation when Swaziland became an independent nation in 1968. At the time of independence, A large portion of the country was “owned” by English farmers who had settled in the area during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. At the time of independence, these land owners had three options: 1) to continue in ownership of land that they occupied, 2) sell the land and leave the country, and 3) give their land to the king and leave the country. A surprising number elected to give their land to the king and return to England. One would guess that
there may have been something that we haven’t heard about that existed at the time to encourage so many folks to give up the family farm and go home. Maybe there weren’t any available buyers and maybe it wasn’t all that easy to buy or sell. I’ve asked the question a couple of times but no one so far has been able to fill in the blanks.
Swaziland has a unique view of property and property rights. Most of the land belongs to the King. However, if I wanted to build a house for my home, I would ask the Chief responsible for the area I wanted to give me a lot for my house. If I wanted a lot big enough to keep some animals and have a garden, I would ask for what I needed. Since the requested site is the King’s land, the Chief can grant my wish and the land is mine. No legal documents are required or issued in the transaction. Everyone knows that one should have at least two witnesses present when the Chief makes his grant. The word of the witnesses will hold up in court and, since the absence of a paper document, that is the only testimony that will turn the trick. Once granted, the owner would have to be a convicted murderer or worse to be evicted.
Sunday morning our group attended a local church service. The kids and staff from New Hope attended as well. The white staff members, our group (which included one African American) and a visiting pastor made up a fourth of the congregation. Some of our group commented that the service was “…the shortest three and half ours of their life times”. For this one hour Methodist service person, it was the longest church service I have ever attended and an experience I hope not to repeat in my lifetime. One of my new friends in the group suggested that some who weren’t accustomed to “charismatic worship” might have found it difficult. She was right. The service began with a lead singer, with 6 back ups (you know, like Do-da) and a keyboard / drums accompaniment, who belted out hymns for about an hour. Many in our group, specifically the Baptists from Georgia, sang along with their out stretched arms, palms up, pointed to the ceiling. The music was great, and loud, but I didn’t know any of the words. The latter case is not all that unusual because in my church I rarely recognize the hymns that folks sing today. They certainly aren’t the ones from my childhood.
After the singing, a lady from the front row who had been singing louder than the choir and acting as cheer leader for the arm waivers went to the podium and began the important stuff. By this time, the loud music and the sound system that bounced everything off of the metal roof and concrete walls of the high school gym we were using as a meeting place had thoroughly confused the electronics in my hearing aids. Actually, they refused to work for the next three hours. I couldn’t hear and thus understand much of anything beyond that point. I do know that after the lady from the front row, who happened to be the wife of the absent pastor, a succession of speakers graced the podium on any number of affairs; ie, the Bible reading for the day (I think it was a complete chapter, or maybe two), a few well chosen words from the visiting pastor ( I think he was raising funds for some worthwhile cause) and three or four others who had very important stuff to say but I haven’t the foggiest what it was all about. Mind you, the entire service was in English which is the commonly used language for public affairs.
At long last the featured speaker, a visiting preacher of note, addressed us. He could easily put Billy Graham and the like to shame with his sparkling oratory, or should I say dramatically and physically aggressive oratory. The crowd loved him. Since I couldn’t understand a word he was saying, I fought like crazy not to doze off……..and lost. At the completion of the sermon, the preacher called anyone who would like his blessing to come forward. One lady apparently asked to be healed of some infirmity. There was some loud praying and violent waving of arms and the lady passed out and was eased to the floor by those who brought her forward. A dozen or so others apparently just asked to be prayed for and prayers were offered. Then one of our group, one that my Baptist friends proudly declared was Jewish, asked to be saved. The savings took about 15 minutes but with a lot of tears and such the act was accomplished. Everybody was real happy about that.
I don’t think I’ll go back to that church for a while, or any other church that brags about it’s three hour church service. I thought they did away with that kind of thing when the pilgrims stopped wearing those funny clothes and shoes with big buckles.
In the process of the day, I had a chance to talk with Jabulani Tsabedze, the staff member who organized all of the tasks that our group attempted to complete. Jabulani is a 49 year old man who has nine children, five with his first wife and four with his second. He met his second wife, Lena, when he was working in the mines in South Africa. Lena is from South Africa. After his marriage he returned to Swaziland and became a pastor of a small church. Several years later, as the New Hope program was beginning, he took a position as Field Coordinator with New Hope and has been with the program for the past nine years. Jabulani seemed to enjoy explaining Swaziland’s government to me and I enjoyed learning from him.
Swaziland was once much larger containing what is now known as Mozambique. There were actually several kings in control of the area at that time. When the British decided to claim the territory, they redefined the borders of Swaziland creating the Kingdom / Colonies of Swaziland and Mozambique in the process. The first King of Swaziland recognized by the British had a vision that became a well known and repeated folk tail in the 1830’s. The King had a vision that a man with a “book” arrived and all the problems of the country were solved. Crop yields increased, men had more wives and the wives had more babies, and in general things became very good in Swaziland.
Soon after the British left in 1968, a white man who identified himself as a Methodist Preacher went to the King’s palace and asked for an audience with the King. When the King’s secretary told the King that the man was carrying a “book”, the King immediately set all business aside to greet the man with the “book”. The book turned out to a bible the preacher was carrying and his simple request was to be able to carry the message of the Bible throughout Swaziland. The King, knowing that this was certainly the fruition of the first King’s vision, gave the preacher all that he asked for. Additionally, he sent word out that the preacher and his group should have everyone’s cooperation and attention as he traveled and preached. Within a decade, Swaziland became known as the most “Christian” nation in Africa. Churches of all denominations continue to flourish in Swaziland. An interesting side note: In 2005, as the Parliament considered the final adoption of a new constitution they had been working on for as long as anyone could remember, the framers decided to include a clause that stated that Swaziland would be forever a “Christian” nation.
Now one needs to know that the King of Swaziland is the King. The Parliament may pass laws but if the King decides that a law would not be good for the country, he calls the leaders of the Parliament to a meeting with him to discuss his concerns. The King has never vetoed a bill but the great respect that everyone has for him leads to a reconsideration of something he does not like. As in all cases before, the Parliament reconvened and develop phrasing on the subject of religion to state that all religions would be respected. Everyone was pleased and the King is still the King.
It may be of interest, because it certainly interested me, that the Kingdom of Swaziland has two capitals; one for the government and one for the King. The official capital of Swaziland is Lobamba ( I know what you’re thinking…the song is La Bomba) and the home of the King, his Palace and a number of significant governmental buildings is Mbabane. When I asked if there would ever be a time when the two capitals became one, the quick answer was never. The reason, the two should always be separate powers and in separate cities. Maybe we should send “W” to Philly or someplace close (Mbbane and Lobamba are only twenty miles a part). It works in Swaziland.
Ladies…….attention! Swaziland has yet to recognize you all as real people. You don’t own anything and haven’t much to say about anything. The marriage act kind of says it all. First and foremost, your father will get 15 + 2 cattle from the man who wants to marry you. You may or may not know the gentleman before the cows arrive but that’s not important. The cows on the other hand are. The +2 cows are for something special but I’ve forgotten what it is. If your husband decides he doesn’t want you around any longer, he simply tells you to leave. You may not remarry although you may move in with another man. If you have children by another man, those children are your first husband’s, especially the girls who could bring in another 15 cattle. When your first husband dies, even though he may have married several others since your being sent away, it will be your responsibility as first wife to handle the burial. This is where you have a chance to get even but no spurned first wife ever does. My advice is not to get married in Swaziland.
Our group had a day off on Tuesday. Apparently New Hope had one of its annual meetings of the Board of Directors and our group would be in the way. So instead of working, we were bussed to the Hlane National Park and Game Reserve. We were loaded into Safari vehicles and roamed around the park for two and half hours. We saw a gazillion gazelles, a small pride of lions, a half dozen elephants grazing, a warthog doing what warthogs do, and (do I have your attention) a black rhinoceros. In fact we saw six black rhinoceros. Some will recall that when we went on Safari in Kenya a few years ago we saw four of the Big Five but not the rhino. The Big Five in Safari talk includes the Elephant, Tiger, Giraffe, Leopard and Rhinoceros. My life is now complete.
What else can there possibly be?
Love to all,
Mkhulu (you guessed it, Grandpa) Bill