Tag Archives: Apartheid

Aug12

Post 121. EEEEEEEeeeeee!

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Zoe- photo by Terry Kreuger

The girls and I were in the bazaar so I popped into the pharmacy to get something for my nausea.  I had been feeling sick for a while.  We seemed to live with those feelings so it wasn’t really a big deal but Tony was away in Australia and New Zealand and I didn’t want whatever it was to get worse.  I was also feeling really tired.  We had visitors every month and life was full on and I needed to be well.

Our Tibetan friend Sonam and Vijay Masih were in Australia with Tony.  He wanted them to meet our friends from NCMI and see that we were part of something bigger.  We were so grateful for the many friends we had made in South Africa.  Many of them had visited us and helped us to get the community up and running.  It was an exciting, fast growing movement.  After we left South Africa there had been an explosion of community planting all over the world.

A couple of years before that, we were stuck.  There were international sanctions against South Africa and we were an “unwanted” people.  The world wanted us to change our racial policy; a fair request.  Things started to change when Nelson Mandela become the first black president of South Africa.  The world loved us again and we became the “Rainbow Nation.”

In the late eighties our prophetic, eccentric friend, Malcolm Du Plessis, prophesied, that in a few years we would be bumping into each other in international airports.  Many of us took it with a pinch of salt, having no idea how that could possibly happen.  From May 1994, our prison doors opened and we were free. Then we were everywhere.

Many left South Africa for safety reasons.  They wanted their children to have a quality of life.  Many left because they were racists and couldn’t stand the idea of being ruled by a black political party.  Unfortunately they took their racism with them and struggled with people of colour wherever they went.  Many were fearful.  There were prophecies that there would be a blood bath.  It was a miracle there wasn’t.  White South Africans had been dominating the majority for generations.  They had no idea how the majority would treat them now that the tide had turned.

There was also a prophetic word that the nations would call South Africa.  She would be a lighthouse to the nations who were still struggling with racism.  South Africans had been there and done that.  They had fought the apartheid system and won.  It was a miracle and no one could deny it.  Tony was in Australia for one of the first NCMI conferences with excited, wide-eyed South Africans carrying brand new suitcases.

The girls and I got home and I unpacked my packet from the pharmacy.  I asked the girls to come with me to see what I had bought.

It took me ages to get hold of Tony in New Zealand where he was visiting his family.  International calls were always a challenge.  When he finally got on the phone, I didn’t ask him how he was.  The girls were shrieking and jumping around.  Through all the crackling and chaos, I shouted, “I’m pregnant!”

May14

Post 67. Around the world

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Asha was 6 months old and Betty was desperate to see her.  She sent us money to buy tickets to New Zealand.  We found “around the world tickets” which were the same price as going straight there.   We were on a very low budget but we had so many friends all over the world.  The plan was to stop and visit them on the way.

The cheapest tickets we could find were with Alitalia.  Our first stop was Rome.  We stayed with someone who knew someone.  They wanted to take us to see the wonders of the city but we chose to potter around the local markets so see how they lived.

The trip was long and we had a few bad flying experiences that led to 5 years of aerophobia for me.   As we were taking off from Rome, the plane screeched to a halt on the runway.  The airhostess came running to the exit right near me and found that the door wasn’t closed properly.  I spent the entire flight worrying about all the other doors.

We met our dear friend Robin Glass and his lovely Brazilian wife Tati in London.  We stayed with them for few days.  Tony and Robin made lots of music and sang all their old songs from their Doulos days.  Our take off from London was amazing; straight up into the air and so smooth.  Everyone was smiling and commenting on how good it was when suddenly it was as if we had hit a wall in the sky.  The plane dropped and everyone screamed.  There was no explanation or apology from the captain and I sat in “stiff position” the whole way to Auckland.

Being with Betty and Tony’s family was amazing.  Ben was the one who had prayed for Tony during his hippy, India, searching days.   I had heard so much about him and it was nice to finally meet him.  Tony’s sister Jan and her husband, Allan had two gorgeous little girls, Hayley and Libby.  They loved their new little cousin, Asha.  Betty had found life in South Africa and it was so lovely to see how much she had changed.

Betty babysat one night while we went to see the movie “Cry Freedom.”  I cried from beginning to end.  Watching how black South Africans lived while I was climbing trees and swinging in the park was too much for me.   So many husbands and wives were separated from each other.  Children lived on farms with their grandparents while their parents tried to make a living in the cities.  Kids grew up not knowing their fathers.  Husbands found new wives in the cities and no longer felt at home in their villages.  I knew it was happening but had never seen a movie on it.  I was beside my self by the time we got home.  Before I went to bed I wrote some words, which I titled “African Woman.”   I imagined her singing something like this to her estranged husband.

African Woman* 

Haven’t seen you in a while

And the firelight in your eyes

Can’t melt the coldness I find growing there

It’s been so long and things have changed

No longer do you love the sun

On your naked skin

Or the rough ground under your feet

My fire can’t warm you anymore

You’ve found more and I’m losing you

Things have changed

See the wide eyes in the dark

Small hearts beating strong

Wondering where you’ve been so long

Growing fear it’s been so long

And things have changed

It rained for weeks in Auckland. We didn’t have much money to travel around but we spent lots of time with Tony’s family.  There were lots of tears when we left.

Our next stop was California.  Some of our Doulos friends had planned a reunion in Lake Arrowhead.  Brock Grigsby’s friend gave us the use of their huge house right on the lake.  There were twenty of us and we had so much fun.  We sat around the fireplace at night and sang old songs and shared memories that made us laugh and cry.

From there we flew to New York and visited Mike and Debbie.  There was a lot to catch up on and it was fun hearing about how things had worked out for us all.

Ash was such a good traveller.  She slept in suitcases and drawers and wherever else she was put.  As long as she was with us, she was happy.  When we got home, she had no idea we had been in the sky or circumvented the earth.

* Tony put music to this-  also on our Colours  album/cassette

Apr30

Post 57. Cry Freedom.

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Tony got a job at Legends Restaurant in Rosebank.   He had advertised himself as, “Willing to do anything; cook, wash dishes, sing, dance on the tables,” The owner liked that.  His wife was due to have a baby so he gave Tony the day manager shift.  It was perfect.  He could work all day and spend the evenings with his new fiancé.

It took him a while to work out the bus route.  It sounded so easy but he kept missing the bus.  In his desperation he climbed onto the “blacks only” bus not realising that he had.  There were lots of smiles of appreciation from the passengers.   They weren’t used to seeing white people on their bus.

South   Africa wasn’t doing so well.  We were at the peak of our dark apartheid years.  The townships were erupting.  People were being necklaced* and schools were being burnt down.  Prisons were bursting at the seams, mostly with political prisoners.  The ANC had been operating underground for years and their struggle was fierce.  Nelson Mandela seemed to be our only hope.

Tony went in and out of  Alexandra Township  for 6 months sharing his story in the schools.   One day he was in our little blue VW beetle, making his way through Alex.  He almost drove right into a burning barricade and an angry mob.  He pulled the handbrake, spun around and took off in the opposite direction.   We were still living right on the border of the township and the gun shots got more frequent and one night, a brick came through our window.

Our black brothers and sisters way out numbered us white people, but we ruled.  They lived in their townships and weren’t allowed to live in ours.  We lived apart in every way; separate schools, churches, buses, movies, shops, parks and park benches.   Everything about it was wrong and we felt the need to make things right.

Malcolm Du Plessis brought his musician friends with him to Waverly.  A band called Friends First was formed to encourage reconciliation of the races.  Nic Paton, Steve McEwan, Joe Arthur, Victor Masondo, Lloyd Martin,Vuvu and others sang and danced out the message all over South Africa.  Some of their songs were banned from the radio but they kept going.   They put a documentary together called, “Another friend in another city,” encouraging whites and blacks to make friends with each other.  It was a demonstration of reconciliation and the love of God across the massive racial divide. It was sent to 10   Downing Street and Reagan’s cabinet.  Their response was, “You have given us more hope for South Africa than any of your politicians.”  Those were radical days.

Some of our young men refused to fight the racist war that was being fought on our borders.  They became known as conscientious objectors.  They were given menial tasks and their lives were made miserable for being unwilling to fight.

“Prophets” were predicting a blood bath, but we lived and demonstrated as best as we could the “new” South Africa.

Even in our darkest and most dangerous time, we held onto the hope that South Africans could be healed.

Mar16

Post 21. Zulus and Indians

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Fear wasn’t a stranger to me.  I feared many things. My biggest fear was the Zulus.  I thought one day they would come into our circle with their spears and shields and that would be the end of us all.

There were some black people around but they were different. They worked for us.  They lived in the kaiyas (small rooms) in the back of our gardens. We called the ladies “girls” no matter how old they were. The men were “boys.”  Many of them were “John.”  Some had funny names like “Hyacinth” or “Garden Boy.”

When I was really small, Margaret was our first “girl.” She was older than Val. She wore a uniform with a matching apron.  She had her very own aluminium cup and plate which she drank and ate from.  We never asked what she wanted for lunch.  She always got 2 thick slices of white bread with mixed fruit jam and she had coffee with two big teaspoons of sugar.

They were so quiet and un-demanding.  Their families weren’t allowed to live with them.  Angela came after Margaret left.  Her son Lucas used to come for the holidays and we loved him to bits. We loved his curly hair and white teeth.  He was one of David’s best friends.  We never really understood why he couldn’t come to school with us. He always had to go back to the village.  Angela missed him and she missed her husband.

Amos our gardener was David’s weed smoking buddy.  He loved to tease Kim, our little fox terrier.  One day she had enough and bit him. Amos waited for the right moment to get her back.  Dad was looking out of the window one day and saw Amos creeping up behind her.  She was doing her doggy-doos and the last thing she was expecting was a kick in her bum.

Maids and gardeners were part of our lives and we saw them as friends.  Dave played soccer with the gardeners in the park after work.  He was the only white boy.  They got pretty rowdy. One of the neighbours called the police to report them for disturbing the peace and for playing soccer in a “white” park.  The police van arrived and the “boys” were piled in.  They didn’t touch Dave.  We dropped our bicycles and ran to call dad.  He marched across and told them to take Dave, since he had also disturbed the peace.   They got the point and the gardeners were let off.

It was different with the ones we didn’t know.  We were scared of them.  There was always the feeling that they weren’t happy with us.  They lived their own lives and we had no idea how they lived them.  They had their own toilets and buses.  We never saw them at the movies or concerts. That’s just how it was.

Indians were different.  Maybe because they looked like us,  except for their colour. The only Indian who came into the circle was “The Sammy”.  He used to drive around in his open van full of vegetables.  He was friendly until he caught David and I stealing handfuls of French beans and peas from the van.  He warned us over and over again but we kept doing it.  One day there was a knock at our front door and it was a policeman.   David and I hid under the bed on the front veranda and listened with terror to the conversation between my mum and the policeman.

Policeman:  The Sammy has reported that your children have been stealing his vegetables.

Mum: Are you sure they were MY children?

Policeman: Yes,  David and Linda.

Mum (who saw us hiding under the bed):  Well, what do you want to do with them?

Policeman: (Wink, wink) Well if they are caught again we will have to arrest them and put them in jail.

Mum: Ok that will be fine with me.  Thank you, officer.

Our eyes were huge and we were white with fear.   Mum dragged us both out from under the bed and we got the hiding of our lives. That was the last time we did that.

Life for us white kids was good.  We never asked how or where our helpers lived.  We had no idea what their “village” was like and there was a quiet belief that somehow we were helping each other.   I was ok with that.