The Jesse Review of Books

No matter how deeply enmeshed I become in life here, the reality remains that I am an outsider in this community. So no matter how much I try to do and how involved I become in life here, I still have loads of time to myself and end up using a lot of it for reading, in the hammock, on the couch, while eating, before bed, anywhere, really.

Someone once told me about a friend whose Christmas letter every year is an annotated list of books he’d read that year. It struck me as such a good idea I’ve adopted it as my own. Herewith, a partial list of some of the books I’ve read since arriving in South Africa. If it seems like I am mostly laudatory in my reviews, it’s because I cut out the ones I didn’t like.

Send me your feedback and especially your suggestions!

Books about Africa

Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela - It looks intimidatingly long but once you get going, you are so swept into the story it goes quickly. Mandela is so modest at times you need to read other accounts of the time to get a full sense of the genius of his leadership.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller - Written by a graduate of my alma mater, Acadia University, this is a beautifully-written account of life in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe during the civil war there. I can’t think of many other descriptions of the life of white Africans that are as good as this. The life she describes is hard and tragic.

Ah, But Your Land is Beautiful by Alan Paton - A wandering, rambling, and occasionally hard-to-follow story that makes lots of good points about race relations in South Africa along the way. But not nearly as good as some of his other stuff.

The Zanzibar Chest by Aidan Hartley - An African-born foreign correspondent writes about his assignments and search for family history. I like the stories of his reporting the best, in Ethiopia, Rwanda, Somalia, and elsewhere. He doesn’t shy away from writing about how hard the events affected him.

Rabble-Rouser for Peace by John Allen - A biography of Desmond Tutu. Well-researched and good background for someone like me who didn’t know too much about Tutu beyond the obvious before arriving.

The Shackled Continet: Africa’s Past, Present and Future by Robert Guest - A somewhat depressing view of the future of Africa by a writer for The Economist. He’s done lots of great on-the-ground research, though, and writes well.

Country of My Skull by Antjie Krog - An account of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission hearings in South Africa and what it was like for a white South African to report on them. It’s written in an unusual style that is either poetic or deliberately obscure or somewhere in between. Raises a lot of interesting questions once you get a handle on the writing style.

Swahili for the Broken-Hearted: Cape Town to Cairo by Any Means Possible by Peter Moore - A slapdash and humourous account of Moore’s travels. It reads quickly. I’ve been to some of the places he visited so I liked comparing notes.

Number Two to Tutu: A Memoir by Michael Nuttall - The memories of Tutu’s second-in-command bishop.

Three-Letter Plague: A Young Man’s Journey Through a Great Epidemic by Johnny Steinberg - I wrote about this when I read it. If you’re at all interested in the people I work with and how AIDS affects them, this is necessary reading. It’s called Sizwe’s Test in the U.S.

I Didn’t Do It For You: How the World Used and Abused a Small African Nation by Michela Wrong - This is one of my all-time favourite books about Africa. It’s an account of the recent history of Eriteria, now known as “North Korea on the Red Sea” but at one time a promising country. The research and reporting is fantastic. I happened to be reading this while a friend was visiting and I got so engrossed in it she complained I didn't pay enough attention to her.

Tomorrow is Another Country by Allister Sparks - A short but definitive book on the democratic transition in South Africa written shortly after it happened. Fascinating. This is a great one to read with Long Walk to Freedom.

We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families by Philip Gourevitch - Another all-time favourite book about Africa. Absolutely brilliant reporting about the Rwandan genocide and its aftermath that provides the necessary background to understand the ongoing conflict in the Great Lakes region.

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie - Adichie is young and has already written two great books. This one is about the Biafran civil war. It’s a great story and makes an important point about who should be telling the stories of Africans. Hint: they don’t look like me.

In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz: Living on the brink of disaster in Mobutu’s Congo by Michela Wrong - Not as good as I Didn’t Do It For You but still some fascinating stories of the last days of Mobutu’s regime.

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe - I had to read this in high-school and didn’t quite get it then. Re-reading it here, I think it should be required reading for anyone working with people who have lost their culture when white people showed up. When I got to the concluding scene, I all of a sudden understood suicide in Alaska a lot better. It was almost literally a lightbulb moment.

Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux - Another trans-Africa trip but this time the writing is beautiful and the stories captivating. I especially like in Uganda how he goes from having drinks with the prostitutes to meeting with the prime minister.

The Heart of Redness by Zakes Mda - A book about life in a Xhosa village, this one including the fascinating history of the Great Cattle Killing.

What is the What by Dave Eggers - Simply spectacular about one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. I am always interested in how Africans perceive Western culture and norms and this has a lot of information on that.

Fiction

The Magician’s Nephew by CS Lewis - My least favourite Narnia book. What’s the point? There’s no plot!

Cannery Row and Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck - Reading both of these put Steinbeck high on my list of favourite American authors. Classics, both, and hilarious.

The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe - I got caught up in this but I’ve since tried to read other Wolfe and haven’t made it very far.

Snow by Orhan Pamuk - I never quite picked up the thread of this book. Pamuk’s won the Nobel but I think there’s something lost in translation from the Turkish.

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan - McEwan is a genius author and I read him just because his writing is so beautiful.

Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje - I hope when the current horrific violence in Sri Lanka finally ends, Ondaatje can memorialize it as well as he did earlier violence with this book.

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison - Justifiably a classic.

Enduring Love by Ian McEwan - Not McEwan’s best but again, great writing.

Development / Foreign Aid

Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by John Perkins - Absolutely horrendous. I’d probably have been sympathetic to the argument but his writing and argument lack any kind of rigour that it is easy to conclude the opposite.

Banker to the Poor: The Story of the Grameen Bank by Muhammad Yunus - Disappointing. I’d hoped for more detail and less chest-puffing from Yunus.

Christian Microenterprise Develoment by David Bussau and Russell Mask - Really disappointing.

Religious Books

The Seven-Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton - Fantastic. Read this book.

A Wing and a Prayer: A Message of Faith and Hope by Katharine Jefferts Schori - Obviously put together quickly following her election as Presiding Bishop and so disappointing. The ideas are interesting enough but the overall package of the book makes them a bit repetitive and anodyne. I hope she has time to write a fuller account of her faith sometime because I’d be interested in that.

William Sloane Coffin Jr.: A Holy Impatience by Warren Goldstein - Good biography of an interesting guy.

Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life by Paul F.M. Zahl - Zahl is all about grace but I think he lets himself use more law than he realizes. I didn’t agree with the entire argument but it was an arresting read and one that I still think about quite frequently.

Crossing the Jordan: Meditiations on Vocation by Sam Portaro - Portaro, my former chaplain at the University of Chicago, uses Jesus’ life as a model for our vocational discernment.

The Dignity of Difference by Jonathan Sacks - I liked the Jewish perspective on globalization and related issues but the book is already a little dated. I also think that because Judaism doesn’t have a conversion impulse (like Christianity or Islam), it’s easier for a Jew to call for tolerance.

A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren - McLaren ranges widely and tries to incorporate a wide variety of religious traditions into his orthodoxy. Some of his chapters, especially the one on how to use the Bible, are really good. Others, less so. I appreciate the emphasis on generosity.

Other

Empires of the Word: A Language History of the World by Nicholas Ostler - This is a dense account of how languages developed and evolved. Interesting but again, dense. It makes for quite the slog.

In the Deep Heart’s Core by Michael Johnston - I’ve read this book before but just like reading about the author’s time teaching in the Mississippi Delta. He tells his stories well.

Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder - Another one I’ve read in the past and just like to re-read. Compared to Three Cups of Tea, which I found indigestible and couldn’t finish, I appreciate that Kidder takes a somewhat critical eye of Farmer at times. Kidder asks similar questions that I find myself asking here.

Staying Tuned: A Life in Journalism by Daniel Schorr - It seems like all of Schorr’s reporting was done at diplomatic cocktail parties.

The Ugly American by William J. Lederer and Eugene Burdick - What’s remarkable is that this book came out before Vietnam, basically predicted how America could lose the war, and America still did everything it said not to. I’m pleased to report my “Ugly American” self-assessment for Americans living overseas is quite good.

The Big Necessity: The Unmentionable World of Human Waste and Why It Matters by Rose George - I’m never too old for bathroom humour but this is about some really serious issues that we see in Itipini. (Does it still count as bathroom humour if people don’t have bathrooms?) I would have liked to know more about sanitation in the developing world than the developed but her explorations of sewers are interesting.

Night by Elie Wiesel - I lay down in the hammock one afternoon, started this book, and didn’t get up until I had finished.

In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan - I’d read some of Pollan’s articles in the past but never his books. I liked this book, though I was probably disposed to agree with most of it before I even started.

The Skeptic: A Life of H.L. Mencken by Terry Teachout - I found this for less than a dollar in Addis Ababa when I was desperate for something to read. The research and writing are great but I didn’t come away with many warm feelings for Mencken.

Currently Reading

Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television by Jerry Mander

AIDS and the Ecology of Poverty by Eileen Stillwaggon

The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama

White Teeth by Zadie Smith

The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis

Back

I'm back in Mthatha and will get around to posting some new content some day soon. In the meantime, check out this great article from the Economist that, I think, is in a similar vein as my earlier musings on what I called "One Talent People."

Going, going… gone!

I’ll be out of town for the next two weeks so don’t be looking for any new posts until Holy Week.

In the meantime, you can reflect on the news that the Episcopal Church Center is not placing any new non-YASC missionaries this year due to lack of funds.

I’ll tell you the story of this child and his family when I return.

Getting better

I was driving into town the other week and gave this woman, Nomvuyo, and her son a ride.
It turns out she was going to the Infectious Diseases clinic for her monthly visit to refill her anti-retroviral prescription. Nomvuyo is a smart and “with it” person so I asked her about her health progression. Almost exactly two years ago she started taking ARVs. Her CD4 count at the time was 53. Now her CD4 count is 695. Not bad!

(It’s possible she was the beneficiary of a mix-up at the lab, something that I have long suspected happens, and that her first CD4 count was someone else’s. She mentioned that when she had a low CD4 count she didn’t feel sick at all, which could confirm this. It’s good for her but less good for whoever really had a CD4 count of 53.)

ARVs work. The challenge is getting them to everyone who needs them.

The Glamour of the Missionary, redux

For all I write about some of the exciting and depressing things that happen here, like the micro-credit program or a patient struggling with HIV, most of my time seems to be spent on mundane tasks. Of late, one in particular has been occupying my time: checking to see if our medical records are proper alphabetical order. Here’s where we keep them.
Over the last several weeks, I’ve been through virtually every card in those filing cabinets on the bottom, the card drawers in the middle, and the expanding folders on top. Along the way, I’ve managed to show several prodigal cards their proper place in life. And I’ve weeded out lots of cards from people who haven’t been to the clinic in over a decade and only came for one or two visits. I find myself wondering what has happened to them. Some of them probably just moved. Others are probably dead, based on what their health was like on their last visit. For other patients who have been coming to the clinic since we began keeping records in 1995, their cards make for fascinating reading and tell such intricate stories of all the challenges these people have faced over the many years.

When a baby is born, the parents get a Road to Health card to keep track of their immunizations and growth. The parents are supposed to keep them but we end up with a lot of them and now have a huge pile of really old cards. I even found the Road to Health card for a young woman who is now 20 years old, in Grade 11, and in my English class. I presented the card to her when she came to the clinic last week with her son.
One great thing about sorting cards is that it is so easy. Cards don’t speak Xhosa to me. They obey my instructions. When I get up for a moment, they’re right where I left them when I come back. They’re not demanding or excessively needy. They don’t take any coaxing and prodding to do what they’re capable of. This project has given me a tremendous sense of accomplishment, something that has been hard to come by here.

The reluctant loan shark

When I first wrote about the micro-credit program on this blog, I emphasized how I didn’t want to become a loan shark and hunt people down for their repayments. I wanted to design the program so that people would naturally want to make their repayments.

As I wrote in a recent update, that hasn’t quite worked. In recent weeks, I’ve been talking with some of my cultural interpreters to figure out how to revive this idea. I asked one, “Why isn’t it the social pressure of having other waiting borrowers entice the first borrowers to make their repayments?”

This person responded by telling me, basically, how out of touch with it was and how radically different our lending practices are from the high-interest places in town that our borrowers are familiar with.

Naturally, they are ruthless. They charge excessive interest. They take a person’s all-important I.D. until the loan is repaid. They make the borrower pay the loan back in a few large payments over a short time. This explains, for instance, why all our borrowers showed up with their I.D.s the first time we met them and wanted to negotiate as short a repayment time as possible. (I discussed the program extensively with this same person before we launched the program and none of this ever came up. Would have helped.) My cultural interpreter seemed to think that if I just started hounding after the borrowers, they would repay.

Here’s the problem: I’m not sure I want to be that kind of guy. I manifestly do not want to be a loan shark and I do not want to be a coercive force.

But what if being that kind of coercive force is what is necessary for a program like this to work? What if the only incentive they’ll respond to is a constant nagging for money from me? How would that one-talent servant have done if his owner kept asking after him, rather than dumping the money on him and leaving? It doesn’t strike me as very graceful.

I haven’t decided what to do yet but I received some helpful clarity the other day when our growing HIV support group asked to meet with me. They wanted to know when we would loan more money, as I have long promised but continually delayed because I’m still waiting on more repayments. I said, “If you want to see me as just another white person who is here for you to take advantage of, fine. But we’ll run out of money and not have any more to loan. I don’t want to be like the people in town and take your I.D.s. You need to help us help you.” (That’s not verbatim. It all came out in mangled - but demonstrably understandable - Xhosa.)

There were lots of head nods and knowing laughter all around. I told them to get back to me when they had thought about it for a while. We’ll see.

This has all been a reminder to me of the importance of learning the context of a group before doing anything. The context in this situation is not just the other lenders in town but also an attitude that is common here that white people exist to hand out money and have plenty of it. It’s easy enough to say this but when that context is shrouded in an unknown language and different culture, it is significantly harder to learn. I don’t know what I would have done differently if I had known this last July but it would at least have been nice to know.

A-Twitter with Excitement!

Part of my job as a missionary is educating people around the world about what happens in this particular corner of it. That’s how we work towards reconciliation and it’s one reason I’ve devoted so much time to this blog.

In the continued effort to share the story here, I have recently joined Twitter - check me out at twitter.com/jazink.

For those of you who don’t know, Twitter is often referred to as a micro-blogging site. I write tiny updates about what I’m doing. You can either “follow” me and have the updates sent directly to your cell phone or you can just read along at the web site.

(A note to other users: I can't receive tweets in South Africa so don't be sending me any of those @ messages I don't understand anyway.)

Part of my reason for doing this is that I’ve realized how much of my daily life here never makes it onto this blog. I find that daily life mundane and routine by this point but when I stop and think about it I realize just how different it is. For instance, I had a great series of interactions on Thursday, first getting this really sick patient onto TB treatment and then having an unexpectedly great meeting about micro-credit (almost entirely in Xhosa without a translator) and then having a wonderful English class. Or there’s the time I had five really sick HIV patients in the back of the truck and found myself not feeling sorry for them or wanting to help them but cursing how heavy they were to pick up and help in the back. I’m not sure that writing about it in mini-posts is the best approach but it is at least worth trying.

This is definitely an experiment and I have no idea how it will pan out. For one thing, it might become too expensive for me to keep sending all those SMS messages. Once I've been at this a little while, I'd appreciate your input on how effective a means of communication you think this is.

But for now, check it out.

twitter.com/jazink

Life under Law

I usually have a short break when the clinic closes but before my after-school English class starts. I was hungry the other day and stopped in a fast-food place I almost never frequent.

I had been there once before to order all the meat pies for our Game Day last December and the owner/franchisee was sitting behind the counter and recognized me so we exchanged greetings, perfunctorily of course; it’s not like we’re best pals. He didn’t look very happy. He was just sitting behind the counter, watching his employees work. He’s white. They are all black.

As I was scarfing down my snack on the picnic table outside, he came to speak with me. Apparently our business dealings in December convinced him I was a worthy conversation partner. Or maybe it was my skin colour.

“Do you know any white girls?” he asked.

Where is this going? I thought.

“I need someone to help behind the counter. These ones I’ve got right now they rob me blind. I have to sit and watch them all day. I’ve been back there since December and haven’t had any break. I need someone to help when I want a vacation.”

I thought about it for a moment and realized I didn’t know a single young white woman and not that many older ones either. There are white people in Mthatha but they’re not part of my daily life. I do know plenty of educated, intuitive, stunning, vivacious, thoughtful, playful, hard-working, honest, caring young women but they’re all black.

He added: “It could be a man, I guess.” It was clear it had to be a white man.

I honestly told him I couldn’t think of anyone. He seemed disappointed and asked me to keep an eye out. I won’t.

Walking away, I wondered how I could have handled the interaction better and tried to broaden his horizons a bit.

Obviously, this has a lot to say about race relations in this country. What I found myself dwelling on the most, however, was how clearly and simply it demonstrates what a life completely devoid of Grace and completely dependent on Law looks like.

This fair town I call home - Mthatha

“Mission Partners,” redux

Several weeks ago, I wrote a post expressing my objection to a proposed General Convention resolution that would change all canonical references in the Episcopal Church from “missionary” to “mission partner.” That post has since sparked a lively and occasionally contentious conversation in my e-mail inbox, in my mail, and over the phone. I want to add to that previous post to update those of you who haven’t been involved but are still interested in the topic.

I have had trouble pinning down the particular reasons this proposal was made in the first place and the resolution approved. My impression is that the reasons given to missionaries by the Church Center have continually changed, confusing me. I haven’t been able to find a copy of the resolution or an account of the Standing Commission on World Mission meeting that approved the resolution. (If anyone can help me out with that, I’d appreciate it.)

Whatever the reasons, one that has been mentioned frequently is the history of the mission. I agree that missionaries have a very mixed history but I also think that the picture is more complex than the dominant “Poisonwood Bible” and Spanish conquistador stereotype allows us to acknowledge. In re-reading Titus Presler’s “Horizons of Mission” recently, I am struck by how many examples of humble, servant missionaries he can find across time.

Regardless of how many examples of grace we can find among missionaries in the past, it is certainly true the church and its members have sinned in the past and those sins need to be repented of. But it is equally true that the church and its members are sinning in the present. I wonder sometimes if our focus on the past obscures our focus on not only the present but the future.

By the way, I have a whole wealth of experience as a sinful, fallen missionary. Every time I read about what missionaries have done in the past, I can’t help but think about all the sinful things I’ve done in my own time as a missionary and wonder just how different we really are these days. Some things change over time; the nature of humanity is not one of them. Will changing how we describe ourselves change who we are? I think not.

One theme that emerged in the ongoing conversation is that it made more sense to invest our energy in our mission being and doing than debating language. I want to agree but for the fact that language for me has always been a first-order commitment of fundamental importance. None of us is the God of Creation who simply speaks to create but I strongly believe the words we use shape the reality we inhabit. Any discussion about language is a discussion about reality. Many people acknowledged this in e-mails, listing other contested words (like evangelism, proselytize, born again, saved, and even church). Each of them deserves a conversation at least as long as this one.

I have also been thinking about the ways this impacts our search for the unity Christ prayed for among his followers (John 17:20-24). I interpret this prayer, in part, as a call to learn more from our brothers and sisters in Christ across the spectrum of views that
characterize Christianity. I think part of this search for unity begins in grappling with the language we hold in common, such as “missionary.” I read a book recently about the search for unity between the Roman Catholic church and the Anglican Communion and was struck by how much the conversation in that forum has been about words - what do we mean when we talk about the eucharist or forgiveness or any number of other issues?

In particular, I think about more conservative/evangelical/fundamentalist Christians who have a particular interpretation of “missionary” that is often rooted - almost solely - in the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20). The Biblical roots of my conception of “missionary” are broader than that and I think that if we run away from “missionary,” we cede the word to an interpretation I disagree with and we end this particular and important conversation with our fellow Christians. By keeping the word, we prevent it from being reduced to this interpretation and we keep the search for unity moving forward.

I wrote this in the last post but it is worth emphasizing that whatever the merits of “missionary,” “mission partner” does not do justice to the full range of mission being and doing and is unnecessarily constraining. I think of “business partners” or “dance partners” when I think about partnership. To me, it is an anodyne, dry, and legalistic word that is difficult for me to associate with an expansive and engaging word like mission. My missiology encompasses much more than partnership; the virtue of “missionary” is it can include it all.

I should note I have heard from some missionaries who welcome the change to “mission partner.” I’ve heard from missionaries who work in non-Christian-majority countries about the potential dangers and struggles they face as a result of the label. “Missionary” is perceived differently in different parts of the world and I really appreciated those perspectives.

What’s more, I’ve learned that other churches in the Anglican Communion, including, I believe, the Church of England and the Church of Australia, use “mission partner” so it’s not like the Episcopal Church would be going out on a limb with this decision and blazing a new path.

So my particular view is not held by everyone. But there are a substantial number (a majority?) of missionaries who do strongly believe that “missionary” is an accurate and true word that deserves to be retained. These people came from a wide variety of backgrounds and were engaged in a wide variety of ministries.

I’m working my way through David Bosch’s “Transforming Mission,” a simply superb book. He writes about the need for “bold humility.” Yes, I think retaining the word “missionary” is a bit bold in this day and age. Maybe we’re just not comfortable being that bold anymore and the retreat to “mission partners” would make us all a lot more comfortable. But it is possible to be bold humbly and I think that is what missionaries are called to do.

Whatever your thoughts about this question, what I have most appreciated is the conversation itself. Conversations like these have an essential importance in the current existence of the church. That the conversation takes place and how it takes place are as important as the eventual decision. I certainly didn’t anticipate sparking anything like this with that first post but am glad of the result and hope it continues.

The Great Pumpkin

Makiwa is one of the cooks in the kitchen and makes the lunch every day for the pre-school children. She’s appeared as a character on this blog before when her husband died and I took some staff to his funeral. She’s also the mother of Simnikiwe, a child whose picture has appeared many times on this blog, most recently here.

I haven’t mentioned her much because she is such a solid, dependable part of my routine. (Good narrative needs conflict!) When I need a break from the clinic, I will often sit down in the kitchen and work on my Xhosa with Makiwa and whoever else is around. Sometimes I give the women in the kitchen the limited produce from my garden. I think she is just a fantastic person.

A few years back, she was given a house in one of the housing developments the government has been building around town and so moved out of Itipini. As a result, she and Simnikiwe walk about an hour to Itipini each day, she to work and he to pre-school. Often I pick them up along the road and give them a lift part way.

Last week, she asked me if I could give her a ride all the way home. The water had been out in her neighbourhood for several days and she wanted to fill up some buckets in Itipini and take them home. I happily obliged.

When we arrived, I took the buckets out of the car and went to say goodbye. She told me to stay, however, and went around the back of the house and came back with a pumpkin. She insisted I take it as thanks, I suppose, for giving her a lift.

My first inclination was to turn it down. After all, she has more mouths to feed and less money to do it than me and she worked hard to produce that pumpkin.

My next thought, however, is that there’s a strong argument to be made for treating poor people like equals. (This is one of many reasons it’s a good idea to charge even a little interest on a micro-loan.) If Makiwa freely chooses to give me something, I shouldn’t be so patronizing and know-it-all to presume that I know better what she needs than she does herself.

(Makiwa seemed to realize what I was thinking because she showed me around her huge garden and made sure to point out all the other pumpkins that were still growing.)

So I took it and it felt really good. Instead of being the person who gives all the time, I became the recipient of something tangible and real that was an honest expression of someone’s respect and admiration for me. Having given so much while here - and not always being sure that I’m doing it in the best way - this was an important moment for me and it made the evening seem particularly sweet.

Here we are, the next day in the kitchen.
(The other cook in the kitchen is Wee Mama and she deserves an encomium too. I’ll write about her someday too.)

Learning to give up

Imagine this situation. You see a pressing social problem - HIV, say, or alcoholism or unemployment - and you think you have a great solution to some aspect of it. So you work away at it, bringing on board interested parties, doing research, and laying the groundwork for a really successful intervention. You launch your effort and it takes wing and then...crashes back down to earth. For whatever combination of reasons, your amazing idea hasn’t worked quite as you expected and the social problem you had set out to resolve persists, unchanged.

This is not - quite - the situation I find myself in but I might be heading that way. I am making progress in my work here and I am seeing improvements but sometimes they are hard to see. What is always too easy to see is the way in which some things are not moving in the right direction and are reverting to the pre-intervention stage. I don’t want to dwell too much on any of my impending failures so I’m going to spare you the details of any of the many stories I could tell as illustrations. (More to come on my failures - or, ahem, how I’ve found ways that don’t work - in later posts.)

But the larger point is this: surely, there are South Africans who are dedicated to the idea of improving living conditions in their country. Maybe, similar to me, they have attempted to make concrete fixes that have failed or been less successful than they had anticipated. Don’t you think after a series of such failures they might just give up any hope of improving things and conclude that the way things have always been is the way things will always be? Why then would you even begin to try if you knew you were going to fail?

It is not a major challenge here to start something new. That’s easy. Anyone with a little energy can get something started and there are always people who seem eager and willing to help at the start. (It is particularly easy to find funding for new ideas; less so for continuing old ones.) The major challenge is continuing what has already been begun. That is what saps all the energy and takes so much effort.

Jenny reminded me of the the prayer for steadfastness recently: “O LORD God, when thou givest thy servants to endeavour any great matter, grant us also to know that it is not the beginning but the continuing of the same until it be thoroughly finished, which yieldeth the true glory; through him that for the finishing of thy work laid down his life, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

Indeed.