African Doors

I wrote in Connections, our church’s newsletter that doors seem to keep opening before I notice they have appeared.

Laura and I had a brief stay in Northville between our return and flight to South Africa. This was (almost) time enough to clean clothes, pack and gather the information materials we would need for the African leg of the trip. I am now discovering the consequences of forgetting things I need. It’s a good thing James (our son) is home to rescue me and that e-mail and internet-phoning exists to transfer information quickly.

Before we left, we managed to see my mother, a few church friends who happened to be downtown Northville while we were there briefly, and attend church where my college roommate and long-time friend is pastor.

I now have a new appreciation for Chevy Chase (and the National Lampoon Vacation movies). It’s quite an experience entering a very different culture than I am accustomed; and I know that I must be quite humorous to behold at times. Outside the hotel, I held my camera while Ebrahim, a hotel staff person, smiled at me as he pointed to Table Mountain and said, “You know that the mountain keeps getting smaller – all the foreigners who photograph it and take piece of it away.” “Do I look like a tourist?” I asked. He just smiled and nodded his head.

Then he told me about being born in District 6, the poor Cape Town neighborhood that had been dispersed and bulldozed by the apartheid government in the 1960’s. This was a little community that, despite its poverty, represented all of South Africa. Here lived Black Africans and Coloureds, Indians, Moslems and Whites in a unique place of acceptance in diversity. Ebrahim said that some of the people who were removed simply died. “They didn’t know how to live anywhere else.” A door opened, so I could see something I would never, otherwise had known.

The flights from Detroit to Cape Town added up to about 21 hours in the air. Landing in Johannesburg, we felt foreign and vulnerable and…clueless. We got through customs, exchanged our money, rechecked our baggage and just got on our flight to Cape Town. I sat next to Laura, and on the other side of me was a man named Mr. Joy Rathebe, grandson of a famous South African Methodist pastor, Rev. E. E. Mahabane. He works for Rev. Frank Chikane, Director General in the Presidency of South Africa. Joy gave me all kinds of good advise, from amounts to tip, to a description of the challenges facing President Mbeke and the new government as it continues its transition from apartheid to democracy and works for economic justice for all. He recommended additional people for me to speak with and offered to help make the contacts. Another door had opened, even during my serious jet-lag.

This morning we woke much refreshed and ready (or not) to fetch a rental car. With the help of Devon, who works at Salty Print Mission, we were coached more on customs, wildlife, driving and attractions. Devon drove us downtown to pick up the rental, and we were off. We made it straight back to the hotel while I got used to the British driving system. It appears that we have fully walked though the door to South Africa and we are really here!