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Today was
the third day of program. The early morning of waking up at 7:00am, eating a
breakfast of a bowl of corn flakes and toast before hitting the road by 8:00am
and getting there before any of the students. Debogo lead us in worship again
and it was crazy to see so many kids stand up and do praise and worship before
starting school like it was a normal day. Singing songs in Sepedi and Zulu as
well as English has been quite an interesting experience. I am still looking
forward to an opportunity to get one of my friends on the worship team like
Kakecho, Debogo or Unami to ranslate the African songs into English just so I
can know what I am saying. So far I’ve figured out from the songs that Jeso is
Jesus and hohle is holy, but that’s pretty much it. There are no English
cognates for words like kadifumafa.
My class
combined with the roosters, who are starting at the same level and are all in
the same grade as the ducks. If you want
an idea of what kind of math the kids are learning, they are starting at
addition with carrying. Yes, that stuff you did in second grade, that’s what
these 7th and 8th graders are doing now. The problem is
not that they have never seen this information before but their foundations for
math are shaky, they get tripped up in geometry because there are holes in
their multiplication, they can’t find the volume of a shape inside of another
shape because they didn’t solidify how to divide. If you have a faint, heart
this is the part of the project that can get you, the heart breaking reality of
kids in recently post Apartheid school system is that many of them are getting
left behind.
Now I was
up to teach English, yes I know that this sounds weird. I am sure that if you
have an English background and you are reading this blog you are thinking, “Oh
no I have read this guys blog and he doesn’t need to be teaching” But once
again the sad truth is the level we are starting at with this kids is basic
reading comprehension.
Excuse me
for a moment as I am going to get on a soapbox for my friends that are
teachers. In the US right now the environment is so hostile for religion in
schools that friends that I have that are Christian teachers seemingly have to
hide their beliefs to keep their jobs. Teachers that have to just put on a
Christian radio station as they grade paper in between classes praying someone
will initiate a conversation, briefly use the Old Testament to reference the
writing style of Gilgamesh and start Bible studies at their houses for their
students that they are never allowed to mention and have to rely on word of
mouth to grow. To those people friends, I have an opportunity for you: I taught
a reading comprehension lesson today using the Parable of the Feeding of the
5,000. Just think about that and let it sink in. If I want to share the Gospel
with my students after classes, I can and I sincerely hope that I get that
opportunity.
After
another simple lunch provided by the program and it was time for the photo
workshop. I had been searching for something to wow the kids an really grab
their attention. Thanks to seeing a little bit of video that Eric Heistand had
taken out on the quad that day, I saw a great opportunity. At App State, taking
photo’s of more fare skinned friends while studying in bright sun can be
tricky, especially if their notebook paper is adding ever more light to their
faces that I’m trying to keep in gamut. But with my dark skinned students, the
paper was a perfect impromptu reflector. When I walked them out and had one
student model I explained the benefits of bouncing light and how it could be
controlled. When I held that paper up and the sun reflected onto that girls
face I saw jaws drop and audibly heard that class get engaged. They portraits
that they took thereafter were exciting because they weren’t just excited to
use a camera but they were controlling their environment to get the shots they
wanted, on the second day. Not to too shabby. When our class ended I no doubt
let a few tears fall to the floor having seen the class turn on a dime.
After
school it was time for a little South African and American co-teacher bonding.
This came in the form of soccer, which is the official name of the sport in SA
for all my international soccer friends screaming, “It’s called football!” Not
much need for me to mention how this went, as the Americans were soon off the
field and the SA’n teachers were playing the SA’n students. That’s when I got a
phone call.
The phone
call was from Eric and it basically went something like this, “Hey buddy want
to go on a spur of the moment adventure to a privately owned mountain that will
give you a view of Mamelodi with my SA’n friend Malusi that you’ll never get to
step foot on otherwise?”
Needless to
say, I was shortly being reintroduced to Malusi and following him to said
mountain. The mountain was beautiful and the pink of the sunset in the sky
might have been the most intense that I have ever seen. I remember being
fascinated by the textures of bright green lichen on the loose red rocks that
cover the mountaintop.
As if this
was not enough Eric was going to be treating us to dinner at a restraint that
would probably be the most memorable meal of my life up to this point. As we
drove in Mamelodi east after dark, we got odd looks from the people that we
passed. Sadly, it is a fair assumption that when one sees white guys in the
township after dark they are there to either pick up prostitutes or sell drugs.
This is why I say we could not have walked into the restaurant we did by
ourselves. With a well-known and respected member of Mamelodi, we were fine. We
pulled up to a small storefront with only roadside parking on the dusty dirt
road available. There was a hand-painted sign out front that said, “Wash &
Braai” Outside there was a circle of men standing around a dimly lit brick
grill pit drinking and grilling meat. Their voices were low and likely
questioning about the presence of the two white guys who were walking up to
wash their hands in the bowl of sudsy water. This was the wash. We walked
inside to a restaurant composed of two tables, a fridge full of 1.5 liter
sodas, and a man standing behind a counter with two choices of meat either
sausage or beef. As we selected a large pile of meat I just took in every
little detail of this place knowing I was getting a very special opportunity to
be in. We talked about The Mamelodi Initiative over a large bottle of Fanta.
When the meat came it was piled high and steaming. Then came the six massive
mounds of pap, the SA’ns version of grits made from corn meal but unlike grits
has a texture, which to me makes it much more edible. Two plates were served
with sweet chili and mild dipping sauces. Oh and did I mention, you don’t use
any silverware?
So as I sat chewing a large piece of freshly seasoned and grilled
beef that I had covered in sweet chili sauce, I stared at the texture of the
concrete wall, looked at the cars pass on the street, looked at the people I
was eating with and had a moment. I had a moment of just asking how in the
world I had ended up here and how this could possibly be my life. I asked how I could be so fortunate. I took
mental pictures that will last a lifetime, as I am sure others did of me. I
smirked thinking of all the bad people must have thought we were up to, when
all we were doing was making plans for the future of a ministry.
On the way
home Eric and I stopped at a McDonalds and talked over coffee. I haven’t
introduced Eric to the degree he needs to be on this blog yet. He has been here
since the first few days, sleeping in the same room as Akeem, Sam and I. Having
him here makes SA feel more like home. We caught up for a long time at
McDonalds, discussing things that were hard and things that offered hope. On
the way home I thought about the ways that I’ve responded to people on this
project when they ask about Eric and I’s relationship. I’ve said that he’s been
like a father to me, I’ve said I don’t know if I would still be walking with
Christ without him, I’ve said that things we have collaborated on God has used
to direct me onto the path with media that I am on now and even though I have
said all of that I don’t know how it could be enough to describe the impact
having him in my life has had.
Please pray that:
Our kids would believe in themselves.
That they would strive to be different than the status quo
in their community.
God bless and all the best,
Dylan Rollins
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