Wednesday, December 13, 2023

South Africa -- Soweto

 

 

I first heard about Soweto at an intercultural communication conference. Dancers and singers played music that was deeply moving and haunting as it described the tragic uprising where black school children led a series of demonstrations and protests June 16-18, 1976. Police unleashed a firestorm against the kids and killed 176 of them with some estimates going as high as 700. At least 1,000 students were wounded. Since I was in Johannesburg for a couple days before my African safari, I had to go to Soweto.

Black South African high school students in Soweto protested the Afrikaans Medium Decree of 1974, which tried to force all black schools to use Afrikaans, the language of the white Dutch colonialists, as well as English in their schools.

Students from various other schools joined the protest because they considered Afrikaans the "language of the oppressor".

About 20,000 students took part in the protests in Soweto. On June 17, the students were met with fierce police brutality as 1,500 officers carrying automatic rifles, stun guns, and carbines assaulted them. To break up the crowds, the police drove huge, menacing armored vehicles (at least twice the size of a man) while helicopters buzzed around the area from above.  

The riots were a tipping point in the then 28-year fight against Apartheid as news of the riots spread around the world and sparked more focused and forceful opposition to Apartheid in South Africa. Soweto residents would remain in the forefront of demands for Black equality during Apartheid before and after the 1976 uprising--with years of violence and repression.



Hector Pieterson, 12, is carried by Mbuyisa Makhubo after being shot by the South African police. His sister, Antoinette Sithole, runs beside them. Pieterson was rushed to a local clinic where he was declared dead on arrival. This photo by Sam Nzima became an icon of the Soweto uprising and caused shock, outrage, and international condemnation on the Apartheid government. The photos below also illustrate the confrontations between residents and the police during the uprising.

 

 

 

The Soweto riots were subsequently depicted in different media like the 1987 film, Cry Freedom, the 1992 musical film Sarafina!, and the 2003 film, Stander. The riots inspired Andre Brink's novel A Dry White Season and a 1989 movie of the same title. The song, "Soweto Blues", by Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba describe the Uprising and the children's part in it. Here it is below.


 

The world denounced the South African government after the uprising, which subsequently advanced the process of abolishing Apartheid. 

  • The UN Security Council passed Resolution 392, which strongly condemned the incident and the Apartheid government.
  •  Many institutions--both corporate and non-profit--issued sanctions against South Africa through stocks and products.
  • The South African government experienced a crisis in legitimacy because of its Apartheid policies and enforcement.
  • The lack of police control over the violence damaged the government’s standing among white South Africans and further alienated non-white South Africans. 
  • South Africa's reputation on the world stage sunk to low levels because of Apartheid. 
  • South Africa's exclusion from international sports competitions from the early 1970s until the early 1990s. Exclusion probably had the biggest psychological impact on the white population.

The uprising led to the adoption of a new constitution in 1993 that enfranchised all racial groups in the country.  

In remembrance of the uprising, June 16 was proclaimed a public holiday in South Africa in 1991 and named Youth Day. Internationally, June 16 is known as The Day of the African Child (DAC). 

 

Winnie Mandela House

 

It stands proudly on Vilakazi Street as a testament to the struggle for equal rights and freedom before the law--Winnie Mandela's house. Visitors may walk through the house and witness history through its artifacts, photos, and displays.


 








 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

In 1958 she married Nelson Mandela. They remained married for 38 years and had two children together. They lived in this house in Soweto. In 1963, after Mandela was imprisoned, she became his public face. During that period, she rose to prominence within the domestic anti-apartheid movement.  

Mandela was released from prison on February 11, 1990, and the couple separated in 1992. Their divorce was finalised in March 1996. She visited him during his final illness. 

Mandela married his third wife, Graca Machel, in 1998 when he was 80.

 

The story of Winnie and Nelson Mandela in this house is best exhibited by the bullet holes left over from decades of government suspicion, surveillance, harassment, oppression and imprisonment. The Mandelas survived it all to see liberation of the Black majority and the end of Apartheid


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While Nelson was in prison, police attacked the house because of Winnie's political involvement. Winnie and family members used to hide behind a wooden wall for safety while shots were fired. 

In 1970 she went to prison for 500 days, and then was confined to the house for 12 hours a day. Below is a photo of that period after her imprisonment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winnie was a professional social worker who fought for justice. From time to time she was detained by apartheid state security services, tortured, subjected to banning orders, and banished to a rural town.  She spent several months in solitary confinement in the Pretoria Central Prison.














Winnie was a member of the African National Congress (ANC) and she served the new post-Apartheid government in various positions including as a member of Parliament from 1994 to 2003 and as a deputy minister of arts and culture from 1994 to 1996. She served on the ANC's National Executive Committee and headed its Women's League. Madikizela-Mandela was known to her supporters as the "Mother of the Nation".
 

 

 

Nelson and Winnie celebrating victory over the end of Apartheid
 
Other photos of Mandela's ascension to the presidency of a new South Africa. 
 
Bishop Tutu and Mandela worked together in negotiations to end apartheid and introduce multi-racial democracy. Tutu assisted as a mediator between rival black factions. Tutu was selected to chair the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to investigate past human rights abuses committed by both pro and anti-apartheid groups. Tutu subsequently campaigned for gay rights and spoke out on a wide range of human rights subjects. He was known for criticizing the Black South African presidents including Mandela.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frederik Willem (F.W.) de Klerk's photo is also on display. He served as state president of South Africa from 1989 to 1994 and as deputy president from 1994 to 1996. As South Africa's last head of state from white-minority rule, he and his government is responsible for dismantling the Apartheid system and introducing universal suffrage. After the oppressive and stepped up militarism of the P.W. Botha government, de Klerk recognized that growing ethnic animosity between the Xhosa and Zulu people as well as violence, and human rights abuses was leading South Africa into a racial civil war. He permitted anti-apartheid marches, legalized previously banned anti-apartheid political parties, and freed imprisoned anti-apartheid activists such as Nelson Mandela.  

 

This display case has a collection of certificates, photos, and artifacts the Mandelas collected over the years before and after Apartheid.

 

 

 

 

 

Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, Mother of the Nation

1936-2018 

It is a measure of the life of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela that in death she has ins pired such an outpouring of love, admiration, loyalty and grief. Winnie's was a life of struggle, but the struggle was also her life.

Winnie acknowledged the forces that shaped and moulded her life when she said, "I am the product of the masses of my country and the product of my enemy".

As a woman warrior, Winnie's voice was loud and defiant and she roused the nation to action. her steely determination to resist the injustices and brutality of the apartheid state was and will remain a source of inspiration and hope to the people of South Africa. 

In her death, two narratives have emerged. For those that suffered under apartheid, Winnie's past transgressions are no longer acknowledged.

She is remembered as an extraordinary woman of courage who dared to challenge the apartheid state; who remained resolute and strong in the face of enormous brutality; who spoke truth to power; and who remained true to the ideal of a South African society where the poor would find the respect and dignity they deserve.

Others have chosen to focus on her mistakes and her flaws, ignoring Winnie's enormous contribution to the struggle and her iconic status as the "Mother of the Nation".

We should remember Winnie in her entirety for she has shown us what it is to be human. In the words of Professor Njabullo Ndebele: "From the witness of her life, we knew we could stand tall; we knew also we could falter and stumble. Either condition was an affirmation of life."

Upon the death and state funeral of Winnie Mandela on April 14, 2018, Deji Okegbile wrote an article in his blog. Click below to see the article.

WINNIE MANDELA, MOTHER OF NATION: THE SOUL AND PUBLIC FACE OF ANTI- APARTHEID STRUGGLE

 

 

Development of Soweto

Soweto was once a symbol of the united resistance against the racist apartheid white government. It was home to the anti-apartheid leaders Nelson and Winnie Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu. Today, Soweto is home to 1.3 million people, one-quarter of Johannesburg's population, the largest Black township in the city. 

Originally built in the 1930s, the white South African government designated Soweto a separate township in southwestern Johannesburg for Blacks. The area was an amalgamation of shantytowns and slums that housed rural Black laborers, especially between World Wars I and II. Growth was haphazard and residents lacked services, infrastructure, and governance, however, slum clearance and permanent-housing programs began there in 1948.

A Community Council of Black residents, first elected in 1978, was nominally responsible for developing transport, roads, water supply, sewerage, electricity, and housing. After Apartheid in the mid-1990s these services came under the jurisdiction of the Greater Johannesburg Metropolitan Council. In 2000 the Greater Johannesburg administrative structure was decentralized into 11 regions where services became the responsibility of each region.

Since Apartheid, Soweto has changed drastically. Housing has been expanded, streets are paved, electricity runs through every house, there are 30 shopping malls, a reliable bus rapid transit system, Uber, minibus taxis, and trains operating every day. Soweto Theatre hosts drama, music and dance productions, as well as festivals, conferences and community gatherings. The Soweto Hotel or several B&Bs host travelers, there are bicycle tours and walks along the Soweto heritage trail, quad biking, tuk-tuk trips and street soccer sessions. Soweto even has the Ubuntu Kraal Brewery, home of Soweto Gold, Orlando Stout and 76 Jameson.

Then there is Vilakazi Street, the main drag, that most tourists see. It is safe, clean, under constant police patrol, and vibrant with shops, restaurants, singers and dancers, the Winnie Mandela Museum (the former house of the Mandelas), and nice houses, including Bishop Tutu's. It also gives the impression that Soweto is doing just fine. 

 

Vilakazi Street is the only street in the world where two Nobel prize winners once lived: former president Nelson Mandela (see below) and Archbishop Desmond Tutu (left). Not far from the street is Trevor Noah's boyhood home.
 

 


However, as Niq Mhlongo reports in a 2019 article in The Guardian, Vilakazi Street is a stark contrast to the rest of the township that is crippled with poverty, drug addiction, and crime.

"This other Soweto is modern and sophisticated in places, but also blighted by poverty, unemployment, drug addiction and crime. Poverty can be seen in the dirty rusted roofs of the Kliptown squatter camp to the south-east and the Jabulani hostel below, built as dormitory accommodation for migrant black workers in the 1950s. Down the street you might see police chasing a stolen car, or a crowd that has gathered around a victim of mob justice. Addicts of the notorious cheap drug nyaope – a cocktail of low-grade heroin, cannabis and sometimes anti-retroviral drugs or rat poison – are everywhere: in parks, at the traffic lights, outside shops."

Mhlongo contends that the gentrification of Soweto covers the "scars of Apartheid" that not only existed between whites and non-whites but between African tribes and ethnic groups. 

In the old days under Apartheid, Soweto was divided into traditional African tribal groups: Zulu, Pedi, Shangani, Swati, Venda, Xhosa, Tswana, Sotho and Ndebele. People lived by each tribe's ethnic rules and customs. In this way, Apartheid deliberately designed competition and ethnic hatred among the different groups. 

Today there are class divisions, according to a 2019 article in the New York Times. Many in Soweto have built multiple shacks in their backyards to rent them to families who can't find housing. Some roads that were paved after Apartheid are crumbling--or they were missed. Electricity is cut off to those who can't pay their bills. Unemployment is high with over half of those under 35 jobless. Much of the economy is still run by South African white people or those outside the country. Many of South Africa's new leaders are corrupt and lining their own pockets instead of helping the Black majority from whence they came. 

Electricity remains a big issue today. In the 1980s it united people against Apartheid by refusing to pay for it. Today, more than 80 percent of Sowetans do not pay for electricity. However, today this issue divides the country's leaders and the Black majority, most of whom remain poor.

In the 1980s, Sowetans refused to pay for services like electricity as part of a multipronged campaign against apartheid spearheaded by, among others, 

Cyril Ramaphosa, a successful businessman and current South African president since 2018 once lived in a house with no electricity. He fought against the Apartheid government for not providing electricity to Sowetans.

After the end of apartheid, this culture of nonpayment continued. Today, more than 80 percent of Sowetans do not pay for electricity.

But while nonpayment unified Sowetans in the 1980s, today it helps divide the country’s leaders and their base.

“The days of boycotting payment are over,” Ramaphosa, said in June 2019. “This is now the time to build. It is the time for all of us to make our own contribution.”

However, many poor South Africans believe electricity should be free, or at least heavily subsidized. They feel betrayed by Ramaphosa's corruption and the ANC.

Meanwhile, opportunity in South Africa is not as open or evenly distributed as some who have succeeded believe. As usual, those who have made it disparage those who haven't.

“We all had the same opportunities, why didn’t you take yours?” Dumisani Bengu, 47, a banker, said to an imaginary critic. “We all grew up in the same space, but I persevered at school.”

Businessman, Bongani Moyo, 45, who runs a construction firm, believes that some people have had opportunities for success while other people haven't.

“But some of us also had to find our way and get ourselves out of a rut," said Moyo, "and others didn’t get an opportunity at all.”

The houses in Soweto illustrate this economic divide. Those houses on the left are signs of success while those on the right, a majority of people, have not been as fortunate. One of Mandela's goals in his administration as president was to improve housing. He tried but didn't succeed as much as he had hoped.



 


 

 Because there is not much industrial development in Soweto, most township residents commute to other parts of Greater Johannesburg for employment. You see them crowded in vans like these.




Small entrepreneurial businesses have become a source of income for some people in Soweto. Many are taking advantage of the growth of tourism.




 

Tourism has become another viable business venture in Soweto. Vilakazi Street is the center of tourism, but quite unlike most areas of the township.


 

We had lunch at Sakhumzi, a popular buffet restaurant on Vilakazi Street. One side of the building opens up to the street, and small groups of men sing and beg for tips





Among the tourism businesses were small groups who performed "native dances". They seem to titalate visitors' images of Africa. Photographers also abound. They capture people walking on Vilakazi Street or dancing with various "native" groups.


 

 

 

 

 Orlando Towers


In 1942, as the population and energy consumption of Johannesburg grew, British engineers constructed the Orlando Power Station in Soweto. The coal plant successfully ran until 1998 when it was decommissioned. The building collapsed in 2014, but the station’s two cooling towers remained--and were decorated. 

 

 

The towers exhibit another tell-tale sign of Apartheid. The plant originally generated electricity for the white residents of Johannesburg, but not for the Blacks and non-whites who lived right next to it in Soweto. Today, the electricity is shared among all citizens of the big city.

 

 The drab cooling towers remained after the power plant closed. Both towers were then painted with pictures of soccer, music, fashion, and historical figures to signify the town's cultural renaissance. In the words of local resident Tshepo Motsepe, Orlando is the “quintessence of the township, intertwining urban culture, history and heritage, communal living and camaraderie, a techno-savvy population, and social amenities.”


Since 2009, the towers have become THE place for bungee jumping. After being lifted over 300 feet in the air, jumpers walk across a narrow bridge connected between the two towers and bungee jump, abseil, free-fall, and power swing. This is tourism at its best!

 

 

 

2010 FIFA World Cup

Not far from Soweto was the Soccer City Stadium that held the opening and final matches of the 2010 FIFA World Cup. Nelson Mandela, 92, attended the last match where he was hailed as South Africa's hero. 


About 85,000 people attended. Guests included Archbishop Desmond Tutu, former UN secretary general Kofi Annan, Spain's Wimbledon tennis champion Rafael Nadal, supermodel Naomi Campbell, South African-born actress Charlize Theron and American actor Morgan Freeman, who played Mandela in the recent film Invictus. Sixteen heads of state were reportedly present including Zimbabwe's Robert Mugabe. 

Danny Jordaan, the tournament's chief organiser, was quoted in The Guardian -- July 11, 2010  about the significance of the event.

"Just 20 years ago we were a society entrenched on a racial basis by law. Black and white could never sit together in stadiums, go to the same school, or play in the same football team. Within 20 years, we saw white supporters having their faces painted in the Ghana colours, supporting young Africans.

"That's something this World Cup has brought: nation building and social cohesion. People walked tall. They were very proud of this country. They were told over many years, you are inferior, you cannot do these things because of our history. So that was a psychological barrier the nation crossed: the world is saying this may be the best ever World Cup and this was an African World Cup."

 

Shakira - Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)                                                  (The Official 2010 FIFA World Cup™ Song)


Johannesburg was a difficult place to visit. I felt a certain discomfort knowing a little of its history. And yet, as I research and write about the city for this blog, I have grown in curiosity and respect for the incredible courage and accomplishment of so many people over several decades. We can only hope and pray for South Africa to continue its journey of peace and justice knowing that the road to equality remains a struggle each day and each year by each person.




Our guide, who lived through the Apartheid era until he was 17 years old, was well-informed about the city and its politics and culture. He was also more than willing to take photos of us travelers. He was probably one of the lucky ones to have a good job even though he was all too familiar with the plight of the majority people of Johannesburg.

 

Resources

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soweto_uprising

 https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/orlando-towers

https://www.britannica.com/place/Soweto

https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2019/oct/22/gentrification-of-soweto-hides-cruel-apartheid-history

 https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/29/world/africa/soweto-south-africa-inequality.html

https://www.theguardian.com/football/2010/jul/11/world-cup-final-nelson-mandela  

https://www.newsweek.com/real-story-invictus-75669

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/F._W._de_Klerk

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winnie_Madikizela-Mandela

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desmond_Tutu

 

 







Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Preparing for an African Safari--A Meditation on Truth and Reality



Going to Africa has long been a dream of mine, really, since childhood. There was always something intriguing and adventurous about it. This dream began with movies about Africa. Tarzan comes to mind immediately. Life in the broad-leaf jungle and swimming in fresh lakes and streams seemed as appealing as wearing safari khaki clothes and pith helmets. 
 

 
Of course, Tarzan was a fantasy fiction of author Edgar Rice Burroughs who wrote these stories based on his belief in scientific racism and eugenics. These theories held that white Anglo-Saxons were the world's elite, particularly the English nobles from which Tarzan was born. As the story goes, his family dies in a plane crash in Africa, and the apes discover him and nurture him from babyhood to manhood. As Tarzan grows up, he surpasses not only the apes but the Black Africans who are depicted as inferior and not wholly human. Today, this is not a particularly good story to tell, and yet, its influence runs deep.













In sixth grade I did a map project about a boy who came from Tanganyika, traveled north to Egypt, and then crossed the Atlantic Ocean to the USA. I liked doing the project, and I especially liked the name "Tanganyika". It sounded so African! I vowed to go there some day. 

Tanganyika became Tanzania in December 1961 after years as a German colony and later on as a British territory. I've yet to go there, but someday I will.

My sixth grade year was a very influential time for me as I decided I wanted to do something on the international level, travel around the world, and teach high school social studies. Around that same time the Peace Corps was established, and many African nations were becoming independent from their colonial past. I definitely wanted to be a part of it all.

Over my adult years I have met many Africans and have traveled to different countries there: Morocco in 2013, Rwanda and Kenya in 2010, and Botswana, Zambia, Zimbabwe, and South Africa in 2023. I never taught social studies but I did obtain a doctoral degree in international education, became a world traveler, and for the past six years have lived in France. This safari to southern Africa would make it my 40th with my lifetime goal of visiting 50 countries. 

Even though I'm 73 years old now, I'm still holding out hope to go to Africa through the Peace Corps or some Catholic missionary organization and teach English as a Second Language. This is not entirely a pipe dream. After all, Miss Lillian, President Jimmy Carter's mother, joined the Peace Corps at age 68 where she served as a nurse in India for two years. That would be a great retirement project for me!


The Nun's Story, a 1959 film based on the 1956 novel by Kathryn Hulme also attracted me to Africa. Audrey Hepburn plays the role of Sister Luke who had wanted to go to the Belgian Congo as a nurse since she was a young girl. She does go there but works in the white hospital with a very competent and cranky surgeon. Sister Luke has struggled with her vocation throughout her religious life then and unsuspectingly falls in love with this doctor. She eventually leaves the convent, and we are left to wonder whether she ever returned to the Congo (and the doctor) or if she fights in the Resistance Movement during World War II. Her love of Africa begins way before she gets there, and once there, she does everything she can in order to stay, including beating TB with the help of "an exceptional doctor". Sister Luke shows how such love for a place can be intoxicating and inspiring. Once again, a woman's adventure in Africa made me want to go there and invoke my own dreams of serving there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another film that stimulated my interest in Africa was the story of Dr. David Livingstone and Henry Morton Stanley's finding him near Victoria Falls in Zambia. Livingstone, a famous Scottish doctor, explorer, evangelist, and humanitarian had won acclaim in the U.K. for his work in Africa. When he returned there a third time looking a route to the Indian Ocean via the Zambezi River, he was presumed lost or dead. Stanley, a journalist, set out to find him, and when he did he said: "Dr. Livingstone, I presume", which became the meme of his day

Our safari group visited Victoria Falls, one of the  world's natural wonders that Livingstone "discovered" and named after his British queen. We visited the town of Livingstone, Zambia, named after him and went to the Livingstone Museum where his journeys and work are enshrined. Artifacts and ethnography of the indigenous peoples are also on display. 

Before we left Victoria Falls, we also listened to a lecture on Livingstone's explorations and accomplishments from a retired guide who also wrote a book on the doctor. He said that Livingstone had a lot to do with exposing the hidden slave trade in Zanzibar and advocating for its cessation. Livingstone was one of the few white Europeans who is still loved and admired by the Africans. His statues have been preserved and not torn down as those of other white European colonialists, a testament to his loving kindness to the African people he served.

 

My all-time favorite story about Africa is the star-studded film, "Out of Africa". The music, costumes, and story of Karen Blixen (a.k.a. Isak Dinesen), a young Danish woman who tries to succeed in Africa as a coffee grower, at least for a little while, not only appeals to my feminist sensibilities but to my interest in adventure and writing about it. Although our safari group was not going to be in the same area of Africa as the setting of this story, the wide open spaces, the animals, and the game hunts elicited a response of my yearning to do the same things as Meryl Streep did. In fact, safari in southern Africa gave me everything the film shows except the opportunity to have my hair washed by Robert Redford!

One significant note about the music from the film. As I rode in our bouncy jeep looking for animals, the theme song from "Out of Africa" came to mind over and over again. They say that Africa does things to you. I'm sure that composer John Barry must have been on the plains of Kenya (which I had previously flown over during my trip to Rwanda) because the music felt like the plains of Kenya. They also felt like the woodland bush areas of Botswana, Zambia, and Zimbabwe where my safari would take place. There is something very special yet inexplicable about seeing pristine land in Africa that evokes an tenderhearted response. The music from the film represents how Africa touched Karen Blixen's heart. It also represents how our African safari touched mine.

 

Unfortunately, my school books, the news, and other films I saw also influenced me in their depictions of Africa as a place of wild animals and strange, exotic people, some of whom became slaves in my own country. White Europeans exploited the indigenous people without their consent and then constructed theories that deemed Black people lower in morals and intelligence than the whites who cooked up these theories if only to justify their own importance and affirm their subjugation of an entire race. They also exploited the animals of Africa by doing so much hunting that they made some nearly extinct.

Fortunately, after decades of expanding my knowledge of Africa and meeting many Africans and African-Americans, I find such theories and hunting practices not worthy of belief. And, after two weeks on safari and one week in South Africa, I discovered that the people I met possessed an intelligence and set of ethics about the world that if listened to could actually heal a world not only wounded by its prejudices and judgements but suffering from human attempts to control and dominate Nature. 

I learned that the animals in the wild have a certain intelligence and set of rules that governs their behavior. This is not about instinct, but rather a calculated response to their environment and to those they share it with. Africa has much to offer our world in the cause of peace and unity as well as respect and oneness with Nature.








 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grew up in Detroit, one of the most racist cities in the country. Every decision people make there is determined by race, a white, Baptist minister in an upscale white suburb told me during an interview about the city 20 years ago. On the other hand, during the course of my adult life I found many contradictions to those stereotypes as I became more exposed to African Americans--including President Barack Obama and his wife, Michelle--and the heroes of Africa who changed entire political systems that had been discriminating against them.


 



 

 

 

 

 

Nelson Mandela's courage and Bishop Tutu's forthrightness emerged as they tried to re-define South Africa and as they attempted to overcome decades of colonialism and Apartheid in order to unite the country with compassion and grace. So successful were their Truth and Reconciliation Committees that other countries who had suffered similar dark periods in their histories adopted their formulas for change.    

 

When I went to Rwanda in 2010 to accompany and report on my pastor on his and his associate's ministry in trauma recovery, I met another African hero, Fr. Ubald. He had gathered thousands of people to the place where he would one day build the Center for the Secret of Peace as a response to the terrible genocide of 1994 where one million people were slaughtered by their neighbors.


 








 

 

 

 

Fr. Ubald was a good priest. He was devoted to the Gospels and his Church. He knew people locally, and he had connections worldwide. During my time in Rwanda, I witnessed people literally calling him on his cell phone all day long from all over the world to ask him to pray for them to get through some sort of crisis. As a result, he cultivated the trust of people who believed in his love of Christ and his ministry of peace--and who could help him realize his dream.

Fr. Ubald DID build the Center for the Secret of Peace (below) whose vision is to become the world’s leading organization in promoting forgiveness, reconciliation and healing. It is sited on a hill overlooking a lake. I saw a beautiful mango tree there, a tree that I believe had to be the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden.








 

 


 

Stereotypes and prejudices die hard. However, when you travel, you meet people and see how they live and what they believe. You learn the truth about them--and you have the opportunity to change your false perceptions and prejudices. 

I would also learn that safaris contribute to conservation and preservation of the native lands--and that they are not available just for the sake of tourism. Safaris put you in touch with Nature in a new way where you can see and appreciate how it works, how the animals live with each other, and how the people live with the animals and all of Nature. This safari was neither a colonial gesture nor a childhood fantasy as I had thought it would be. It was an opening to truth and reality.

 

Resources

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Rice_Burroughs

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Livingstone

https://www.secretofpeace.org/





Sunday, December 3, 2023

My $500 Weekend in Paris


 
Three weeks before my safari trip to southern Africa I realized I had only 5 pages left in my passport. The travel company suggested that each participant make sure they had at least 10 pages because each of the four countries would use 2-3 pages for visas. So I got on the phone with the American embassy in Paris to find out what I needed to do to get those extra pages. A very nice woman on the other end of the line recommended that I apply for an "emergency passport" and make an appointment at the embassy to do so. "OK," I said, and quickly filled out the online form for an appointment, which turned out to be Monday, November 20 at 8 a.m. That meant that I had four days to get there and it would require a couple overnights: Saturday night in Lyon with sisters and Sunday night in a Paris hotel around the corner from the embassy. In times like this, technology turns out to be a great asset. In less than 30 minutes I booked a hotel and a train ride to Paris. I already had tickets for the Lyon bus to take me to the Gare Part-Dieu train station where I would pick up a two-hour-long ride on the TGV.

At Friday morning breakfast I talked Eluiza into coming with me, which she agreed to do. It turned out to be a good thing that she did, as will become apparent throughout this account. We decided to drive to Lyon and stay at the sisters' house on Saturday night so we could catch the train from Lyon to Paris on Sunday morning at 9:30. This plan could then save a bit of time and money.
 
Once we made it to Lyon, our first challenge was to get into the sisters' house. We rang the door bell but to no avail. So we walked around town for a couple hours, found something to eat, and then returned to the sisters' house. It turned out that Sr. Rita, our hostess, had been there all along. Well, it is a big house!

My plan was to take the bus to the train station but we soon discovered that the C-13 was not running this weekend due to protest marches in the streets over the Gaza-Israeli War. Sr. Rita arranged a cab for us on Sunday morning, and we made it to our train in time to get a couple croissants, coffee, and make a bathroom stop. I paid 23 Euros instead of the 2-Euro bus ticket.

Our two-hour train ride from Lyon to Paris was smooth, easy, and comfortable. We were even able to sit next to each other after a couple people willingly gave up their assigned seats. We had time for a short nap and some reading.

We arrived at Gare de Lyon in Paris, which is a mammoth train station with much activity swirling about. Wherever you are going, it seems you must take a long walk to get there. Our first stop were the bathrooms, which took 15 minutes to find despite the small signs that pointed the way. It also appeared that there was only one bathroom to accommodate the hundreds of people passing through the station. 

Then we looked for Metro line #14, the fastest route to the hotel. Following the signs to the Metro, we took a circuitous route through the station's giant halls and even near the trains where people boarded. After going back and forth in the underground to find our line, we finally learned that Line #14 was under repair. After asking a couple Metro agents how to get to the stop nearest our hotel, we were told that we had to take Line #1, which had a stop near Place de la Concorde. 
 
Of course, the Metro ticket machine didn't work. Fortunately, we spotted a ticket counter with real people selling Metro tickets. I bought two round-trip tickets for each of us in anticipation of the ride back to the train station after my appointment at the embassy. Good thing, too, because after wandering around the Metro station and going through exit gates, the machine ate one of our tickets. Finally, we found Line #1 and pushed our way onto the very crowded train (as a woman behind me told me to do). We were on our way!


The Metro in Paris is one of the best ways to get around town in a cheap and efficient way. Line #1 runs near the Champs-Élysée and once we emerged from the underground, we ended up near this iconic statue of Georges Clemenceau, the prime minister of France during World War I. Television coverage of the November 11 Armistice Day commemorations included a visit from the president of France, Emmanuel Macron, who layed a wreath of flowers at the foot of the statue. The wreath was still there when we arrived. 

 
 
Across the street from the Clemenceau statue was the Élysée Palace, the "French White House" where the president of France lives and works, one of the guards who surrounded the palace told us. It was built in 1718 and its style of architecture and attention to security make it the most fortified place in Paris. It is located near Embassy Row and the American Embassy on the Place de la Concorde end of the Champs-Élysée. Our hotel was supposed to be right around the corner from the embassy.
 
We asked one of the guards for directions to our hotel, and he told us to turn left at the end of the street. Unfortunately, we should have turned right. After walking about a half hour without any luck at finding our hotel, we hailed a taxi to take us there. It took less than five minutes--and was a welcome relief for my tired feet. This whole ordeal after we left our train took us two hours and another eight Euros!
 
The Hotel de Castiglione is an art-deco style hotel near Embassy Row and the Champs-Élysée. Its room rates were surprisingly reasonable given its location, and I happily booked a double room for 95 Euros. Unfortunately, a 3 a.m. email confirming my reservation indicated that I had reserved a room for the day rate. I fired back an email and a subsequent phone call that I needed a night rate for a room with two beds. After some haggling, the hotel concierge assured me of a night room for 155 Euros. The room cost more than I expected but it was too late and too complicated to change to another hotel. Voilà !

The hotel is situated within the sight of the Eiffel Tower. But, of course, we did not get that room. Our room only allowed us to see the top of the tower, which still provided a pretty spectacular view, particularly at night when the tower is all lit up (see video below). Eluiza later discovered that the lights go dim around midnight.
 

 
Sundays are horrendous days to travel in France. Nothing is open--even in Paris! We had picked out a Turkish restaurant as our choice for a meal, but soon discovered it was closed. In fact, around our hotel everything was closed: restaurants, shops, cafés. What do traveling people do for food on Sundays? Fortunately, the concierge suggested that we try the grocery store a few blocks from the hotel. Since that was our only choice, we went. It was 3 p.m., and we were very hungry after having eaten only a light breakfast at 9:30 a.m. When you travel sometimes you just have to make due with what is available.


 
 
 
Our "gourmet" Parisian meal for Sunday lunch and Monday's breakfast
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 Our chic table setting featured a wash cloth on the bed as our plate
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
After lunch, we rested in our room for 90 minutes. Around 4:30 we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood and find the American embassy so that we would know where we were going the next day. What we would see was astonishing not only in terms of the iconic Parisian monuments that are always astonishing, but with regard to the traffic on the street. It was as though the city came alive after a sleepy Sunday afternoon.
 
Because we were near Embassy Row, there were all kinds of exclusive stores. What was bizarre, however, was that they were all open and ready for business at 5 p.m. I couldn't help but pose with a few of them.
 
 

After finishing our window shopping, we turned the corner twice and were on the Champs-Élysée with the Arch of Triumph on one end and the Place de la Concorde on the other. Of course, the Eiffel Tower was in full view as was the Marine Archives Building. Breath-taking sites in pictures. Unbelievable in real time--even in the silhouetted early evening.




 

 

 







Although all was well, I was still a bit miffed that we could not find any hot food, so when I saw a hot dog stand (on the Champs-Élysée no less), I staged a little protest and bought a hot dog with ketchup and mustard. The "bun" turned out to be a hollowed-out baguette. This little meal was OK, but I've never eaten so much bread as I did on this weekend!












 

On our way back to the hotel after our little sight-seeing tour, we located the U.S. Embassy and asked the guards where we should report the next day. Here is a photo of the embassy.


On Monday morning, dark and early, Eluiza and I made our way to the embassy at 7 a.m. because Eluiza's past experience with embassies is that the line gets very long very fast. It was better to be at the head of the line to wait for the embassy to open than to be at the end of line.  
 
As I passed through security and made my way to the hall of "cages", I noticed that there was not one American guard. Sometimes it was difficult to understand the guard's English. 
 
The check-in for my appointment was fairly simple. Since I was looking for an "emergency passport" the window for conducting business was not as crowded as the renewal of passport window was or especially as the visa windows. There were scores of people waiting by the time I completed my business, so Eluiza's advice turned out to be right on target.
 
While I expected to get an "emergency passport" as the woman on the telephone suggested, the man at the window advised me that he wasn't sure the four countries I was visiting would accept the "emergency passport". He knew for certain that France wouldn't. That meant that I might not be able to visit each of the four countries on the itinerary, and, I wouldn't get back into France! So the agent suggested I get a renewal on my passport. He thought he could send it to Washington, D.C. and get it back in time to mail to me before my trip commenced. OK, I said, and I went to the window to pay my $130 fee. Passports are good for 10 years, and I still had three more years to go on the one I had. However, this plan of getting a new passport was fine. At least I was assured passage to wherever I went. 
 
The agent told me my passport would be mailed to me, and I could track its delivery process. He had me write down the tracking number, which started out as 5Z. Unfortunately, I read it as 52 and therefore was not able to see my package moving through the system. This would cause me much stress for two weeks. The other problem I encountered was a false notification that my passport was ready but that I had to pay an additional .48 centimes within two weeks or else it would be sent back to its place of origin. Apparently some creepy person hacked my email address and tried to goad me into giving him information so that he could tap my French bank account. This happened to me once before in the same way, and I lost a couple hundred Euros. Fortunately, I reported this fraud to the bank and was able to get my money back.
 
My appointment at the embassy took about an hour, and I exited the building rather jubilant because I got what I needed. Outside the embassy was a very long line of people waiting to get in just as Eluiza predicted!
 
The two of us went back to the hotel and waited a couple hours until the time came for us to take the train back to Le Puy. Only this time, instead of trying to take the Metro, I ordered a cab to take us to the station. Less stress and worry. And, at this point money was no object.
 
We left the hotel at 11 a.m. and had time for coffee once we reached the station. Our train was on time, but there were hoards of people coming and going to and from the trains. That's the way it is with the TGV. We boarded the train, found our seats, and just relaxed for the next two hours. I had time to read almost a complete Atlantic magazine.
Once we reached Gare Part-Dieu in Lyon, I decided to hire another taxi to take us back to the sisters' house where we parked the car. We arrived at the sisters' house, got in the car, and took off for home. I always have trouble navigating the streets in Lyon, however, thanks to the GPS on our car, we were able to swiftly and efficiently navigate through Lyon and back to Le Puy.  

It had been a whirlwind trip to Paris and back. It had cost a lot but it was absolutely necessary to get my passport changed. Besides, we had another unforgettable adventure in France. 

P.S.  I did get my passport on time through the mail exactly one week before my flight to southern Africa. It is valid for 10 years and goes until 2033. It may well take me through to a time (age 82) when I will no longer need it because my travel days will be over. But then again, maybe not! 

P.P.S.  During my trip to Africa, border crossings only used 4 pages of my passport!
 

Thursday, November 30, 2023

French Pop Music of 2023

Another year and another list of my favorites. Check out these French music videos. I just can't get enough of French pop music!


Mentissa -- Mamma Mia


 

Kendji Girac - Le feu (en duo avec @vianneymusique )

 

Francis Cabrel - Encore et Encore


 

Jean Jacques Goldman -- Je marche seul



La Compagnie Créole -- Le Bal Masque


 

France Gall -- Ella, Elle l'a 



Stromae - tous les mêmes 


Stromae - Formidable (ceci n'est pas une leçon)


 


 

Kendji Girac - Color Gitano


 

Kendji Girac - Cool


 

 

 

Sunday, November 26, 2023

A Chapel Built for Pestilence


Eluiza and I were driving from Lyon to Le Puy, and we stopped at a little 17th century chapel near St. Chamond and St. Julien that is sited in the middle of nowhere. It turned out to be a chapel for those people of this area who contracted a virus that resulted in an epidemic in south-central France. In just one month (September 1628) over 250 people died. The only solution at the time was to sequester those who contracted the illness, so they were transported to this area called a "fay". 

These very sick people lived in cabins--isolated--but they were given alms and provided with care by Capuchin monks. At one point the monks led by Fr. Edouard decided to work with the men of the area to build this small, modest, but venerable chapel so that the sick could more easily hear the  Mass. The chapel was dedicated to St. Roch, the saint of healing in times of pestilence and contagious disease. 

Eluiza and I probably wouldn't have been that interested in this chapel had we not recently lived through the Covid pandemic that was a worldwide event. It is yet another example of how history comes alive.

As the written history of the chapel indicated, the building represents one of the rare monuments of a French church that escaped the "devastating hand of man" so that we can still see it today and learn of its history. It is after all a part of the French heritage, which is revered. The government even appoints a national historian who is a frequent host on TV historical programs. 

And this is precisely why I have loved living in France: history is everywhere! But despite their interest in history, the French don't live in the past. They are a modern people who rely on technology for everything, care about climate change, and wear jeans, t-shirts, and athletic shoes. However, they appreciate history because it witnesses their heritage and gives them an identity. I'd say that's an important part of living as a citizen of a modern nation.

After the pestilence ended, the priests of St. Julien continued to celebrate Mass during the Rogations (days of prayer, fasting, processions).

Since 1901, the chapel has belonged to an association that renovates, maintains and gives it life by organizing religious and cultural events throughout the year.

The chapel was locked, but we were able to take a peek of the chapel's interior through a barricaded window.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A view of the back of the chapel.