"The Laughing Bishop"

It is mandatory that every member of the shipboard community take a class titled “Global Studies” which is basically like global issues for aspiring philanthropist high school seniors. The been-there-done-that attitude means the Union, where these lectures are held, is rarely at capacity and if you walk out to use the restroom you’ll return and find that most people are completely checked out and on their computers emailing friends and family. When it was announced that there would be a special guest lecturer in a joint-session of Global Studies, students camped outside the lecture hall the morning before readying to snag good seats just like those people who wait outside the Apple Store for new iPhones. Everyone knew what was coming, the hall was packed and abuzz… 0930 had never rallied so much excitement. Our dear friend Desi, as we all call him affectionately, arrived at the doors of the hall and danced his way up to the front, tapping people on the head and giggling through the aisles. Plopping himself onto a chair he sighed, scrunched up his shoulders, and burst into infectious and exuberant laughter.

His two hour lecture, if you could call it that, was a pinch-me-am-I-awake-or-this-actually-a-dream type of amazing. Albeit a wavy day I was able to capture a fair amount of video footage that I just can’t wait to share with you all soon. Under the umbrella of apartheid he spoke about Nelson Mandela, the townships, raising a family, unity and individuality, reparation and reconciliation, justice, and most emphatically… being joyful and keeping the faith. I was completely transfixed. Here is a man who has seen the absolute worst of human nature, of ruthless hatred, and still believes that people are made for goodness, that truth will prevail, and that laughter will heal a broken world. It never ceases to amaze me that it is the people in this world who have experienced the most evil that end up being the most hopeful for the future.

There were so many treasures he shared, but one of the most important before traveling throughout his homeland was the following:

“With all of its faults, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission is the best thing that happened to South Africa. Let people tell their story, it was… it IS therapeutic. The wounds have not yet been healed, but they are still festering. There is still work to be done.”

Even though there is so much reason to rejoice, South Africa is still in the middle of quite an identity crisis. Apartheid ended just sixteen years ago and its legacies are still very real for most of the country. At least 35% of the population is HIV positive, the country ranks highest in the world for homicide and crime, 28% of men are unemployed, and millions of families live in squatter camps. There is still work to be done. Just because there is freedom doesn’t mean there is equity or justice. I knew that within its geographic beauty there was something heavy and ominous lingering throughout. Don’t be fooled, I thought, tread lightly and with eyes wide open.

On the morning of our arrival, I sat in a dewy pool chair, bundled in a blanket on the seventh deck, taking in the beauty of the new day with gratitude and anticipation as we slowly pulled into the V&A Waterfront.. The stars behind me were fading over Cape Town as the horizon before me morphed from the deepest navy, magenta, orange, pink, until in an instant the sun made its grand appearance. My friends and I spoke no words, exchanged no glances – there was this sense of profound fellowship though, as we all processed independent thoughts and truths about the world and ourselves. It’s funny now looking back because our arrival in South Africa and this sunrise seems so long ago, but I remember having one of those out of body moments where my mere existence was absolutely mind boggling and the fact that the sun rose and set every day without fail gave me so much comfort. Maybe I’m just hyper-aware of the phenomenon because I watch it take place almost every day now. In any case, this small epiphany helped ease some of the apprehension or eagerness for discovery that I had accumulated from my pre-port lessons on the history of this fascinating nation.

Par usual, I tried to cram each day with as much I possibly could without sacrificing too much of my sanity or sleep. The V&A Waterfront was a total tourist trap, but at least had a full-fledged grocery store (where I spent the best $75 of my entire life on oatmeal, dried fruit, and nuts) and some nice restaurants. I was happy to head out of the port and spend three full days hiking up and picnicking atop Table Mountain, visiting a local medical clinic that works with HIV/AIDS patients, and playing with children in the Marcus Garvey Rastafarian Township.

I spent the remaining three days on an amazing Safari in the middle of Kruger National Park. Making our way from Cape Town to Johannesburg and onto Hodespruit, I stopped in an airport bookshop to pick up any form of news I could get my hands on. I spotted TIME and Newsweek, and gleefully made my purchase. Back at the terminal I opened up TIME to page 27, a photo of none other but Desmond Tutu. WHAT! Crazy, right? The photo accompanied a feature article on his retirement from public life made official on his 79^th birthday. The article is titled “The Laughing Bishop” which I’ve titled this blog in tribute.

I made it to Hodespruit and let my mind get swept away by the amazing scope of the African bush. Safaris are basically everything you imagine, but even cooler. Hippos, Elephants, Rhinos, Giraffes, Lions, Warthogs, Eagles, and Impala are the names you’ll recognize, plus many many more. I felt the same feelings here that I experienced in Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Alaska, even the middle of the Indian Ocean… I hope one day if I have children, they will be able to see this. I get nervous. The more I read about the combinations human footprint, mass consumption, rapid economic development, resource depletion, and crumbling biodiversity, the more anxious I become that future generations will not experience the natural profundity of our planet, our home.

Here’s an armchair perspective (literally and figuratively) of what I see taking place in South Africa after dabbling in a few different facets of culture and society:

On my flight from Johannesburg to Hodespruit I sat next to a South African national who worked for USAID administering and assisting with HIV/AIDS treatment. She was traveling to a small village in the northern region of Kruger to check on a trial drug some members of the community were testing. We talked about a range of topics – family planning, treatment options, and stigmas associated with the disease. On the flight back to the ship from Johannesburg to Cape Town I sat next to a business man who has lived all over the world working for Dow Chemical in plastic resource manufacturing. I had requested a water and peach juice from the flight attendant, he pointed to the containers and the accompanying cups with ice and said to me “I work to round this up all across Africa,” and smiled. It gave me the shivers.

South Africa is a country of extremes: wealth and poverty, overabundance and famine, both diversity and racism. Apartheid is over but the gaping cleavages it left are just getting wider and wider. It seems that the country is being carried in two opposite directions – one toward recovery and rehabilitation, and one toward capitalism. It emphasizes our mentors wisdom: There is still a long way to go.

My Grandma Beard has this great saying, “God can’t move a parked car.” Despite the paradoxes glaringly present in South Africa, if we think of the state as a car, it certainly isn’t parked at all; it’s moving all right and it’s trying hard to figure out where it really wants to go.

There is still a long way to go. But it is going, and that is a blessing.