A New Kind of Bush Life?

I have been putting off writing down my thoughts for many weeks now. It has been over 6 months since I moved to my new life, home, work and roles and my need to explore and release my thoughts and emotions is at an all time high – there is no other reason I would write this on a Monday night at 11pm.

Let’s start with a bit of an update:

• I have moved away from the raw beauty of the KZN coast and its somewhat magical rural hospitals. In January 2015, I embarked on a glorious adventurous outlet to the unexpectedly beautiful Zambia to spend some much-need down time and spiritual upliftment with two very special friends. But I returned to start a new life, a new home and take on a very new role as fiancé to my now husband in a small town called Middleburg, Mpumalanga.

• As of February 2015, I have been working at a local government hospital in the Mpumalanga province of South Africa – a far cry from my rural experience last year. While the town itself cannot really be considered a city, it is one of the wealthiest towns in the entire country (Click here to check out this recent Mail and Guardian issue on where South Africa’s richest people live – Middelburg is the 7th wealthiest town in the country!). The town is oozing with fancy cars, expensive gadgets and luxurious people, yet the hospital is considered an eye-sore: a dilapidated, corrupt infectious pool where people go to die rather than be healed. My hospital makes the front page of the local newspaper on a weekly basis – and never for a good reason.

• I am now married to a humble and fiercely faithful man who is studying to be a Presbyterian minister while working as a ministries co-ordinator for the local Middelburg Presbyterian church. The role of wife to a man of this standing in the church is not an easy one to which I must adjust and I am still finding my feet in this regard. I love my husband but do I love his job that has ultimately become my life too? These are some of the issues I must face in order to remain faithful to God and to His calling on my life.

I guess the URL for this blog should ultimately change right? I am no longer living the “OT bush life” as the name suggests. But maybe this is a different kind of bush life? A bush filled with unknown experiences, novel ideas, difficult challenges and branches filled with growth and potential. Maybe I am living the “bush life” but in a whole new kind of way.

So this is where I find myself tonight: in a place desperately trying to find meaning, purpose and a sense of reward within my current occupational therapy job. The journey has not been an easy one thus far and I question my reasons for wanting to work at this particular hospital on a weekly basis, but...I invite you to be a witness, an encourager, a participant, in this journey of mine. For something tells me, if you are willing to stick around, we may all find a sense of hope and meaning at the end of it. Are you ready for this?

I arrived at Middelburg Hospital with guns blazing, OT passion oozing from my every pore and a heart-wrenching desire to bring change to the crumbling hospital that stood in front of me. Within a matter of weeks, I realised my blazing guns were being met with sheer determination to see me fail, my OT passion was met with apathetic laughs and my desire to bring change was squashed like a bug beneath some very corrupt, lazy feet. The bundle of energy that entered the hospital a few weeks earlier was rapidly beginning to disintegrate. I was losing my way, and fast.

What was worse was the obvious racism that sounded me on a daily basis, both at the hospital and within my local congregation. I continue to struggle to make sense of the clear division between black and white, the subtle racial undertones beneath respectable peoples’ words and the blatant discrimination I observe around me. My heart breaks for the disunity I see – in the hospital, the clinics, at the shops, at church and throughout this affluent community. There is a real sense of division here. What breaks my heart more is that I often remain silent, inactive, when I am confronted with by both subtle and blatant racial remarks. I am immobilised with confusion, frustration and the knowledge that my words will never truly reflect the emotion I feel. I am all too aware of how easy it is to become complacent, even acclimatised, to the racism around me and it is my hope and prayer that I do not lose my own moral compass in this regard. I will be the first to admit that I benefit from White Privilege on a daily basis and subtle racism often rears its ugly head in my own thoughts and actions. But being aware of this is the first step and I encourage you all to reflect on your own discriminatory thoughts towards others, be it about race, gender, sexuality or even age. We need to make a conscious effort to move forward as a nation, away from ignorance and persistent discrimination to a place of unity and openness. 

I would love to now tell you that five months down the line, I have managed to drag a fairly apathetic, selfish department up from the ground and place it on a pedestal for all to see, but that would be a lie. I am the youngest and most inexperienced OT out of the six in my department. My ideas for change have fallen flat on their face on numerous situations. I have cried at work on more than one occasion. I have often succumbed to the apathetic attitude of my colleagues and have found myself sitting in an uncomfortable chair for a good portion of the day, just because I can. I still struggle with the blatant racism I observe and still tend to hold my tongue rather than speak out against it. Who is this person I see in the mirror? Where did I go so wrong? My thoughts drift to the times I have reprimanded skilled professionals (both direct and indirectly) on their desire to leave a failing government health system and flee to another country with greater opportunities. I think about the times when I have passionately spoken out against the blatant and subtle racism within my country. Have I started to entertain ideas that I don’t actually need to put up with the nonsense the surrounds me and that I deserve a more rewarding job? Have I become indoctrinated with the subtle racial undertones of a divided community? Oh how ashamed the 2014 rural Caryn would be right now.

But it is not all doom and gloom – I wouldn’t be writing this if it was. A timely testimony from a minister focused on community development, a well-phrased word of encouragement from a friend and the reading the perfect passage from Psalms, have all reminded me that I serve a faithful, just God. If I can just keep perspective; just learn to survive the mess and somehow continue to fight against the wrongs I witness, there is hope for me; there is hope for this hospital; this community. I don’t know how, I don’t know when but I do know that things may change – be it in me, the hospital or the broader community. My God has placed me here for a reason and I will do everything in His power to make sure I make the most of it. As mother Theresa once said, “God has not called me to greatness, but to faithfulness.”

As I reflect on what I have written, an old poem I had wrote for a different time in my life popped into my mind. It’s one of those pieces of writings that have universal relevance to anyone in a tough situation. It is all about keeping perspective in the midst of trying times. It's based on the idea that as humans we often struggle to see the bigger picture, like a beautiful tapestry, and rather end up seeing the other side of the tapestry with all its loose cords and ugly threads. It is my pray that you will find some encouragement from it, just as I did.

Sometimes the lines get blurred and I tend to lose my way
I start to lose perspective on what God's Word has to say

His grace and love I forget; His promises a distant thought
With me in my despair, I lose everything I've been taught

My self-centredness consumes me with no thought for others around
I fail to see God's work in this and how His love abounds

The threads of the tapestry: continuous ugly lines
Where are my God glasses to see the beauty behind?

But in this mess comes clarity from my Father above
Understanding in my suffering; relinquishing control to His love

And even in the midst of stress, the pressures of daily life
He stands, He falls wherever I go and walks me through my strife

With every single step I take, He leads me down His path
He builds me up when least expected and reminds me how to laugh

He knows my blood, sweat and tears...He's sacrificed much more
His body and blood poured out for me, of this I am sure

In His death I am renewed; in His strength I am made whole
He refreshes me and picks me up, water for my thirsty soul

So through these trials I turn to Him as only He knows the way
He comforts me and guides me, His loving arms do not delay

He draws me in when I'm downcast and to my knees I fall
Loving God forgive me for acting big when I'm so small

Give me Godly perspective in my overwhelmed state of mind
Show me that you carry these burdens; Your freedom help me to find

And now dear Lord here we are on the other side of the tapestry
You've opened my eyes to your beauty and showed me how to be free

Where to from here?

It is now a month into the new year and I have yet to finish this blog. Maybe it is because I know this is my last entry; that after this, things will change. Maybe it’s denial that my magical year in the bush is complete. Maybe I just don’t have the words to accurately describe the emotions I feel as I reflect on the last 12 months of my life.

So...December has faded into a chaotic blur of repeated goodbyes, last-minute holidays and hasty packing. Community Service has drawn to a close and I am now a completely independent, fully qualified occupational therapist. So where to from here?

As my friends and I travelled along a long winding road sometime in December, this very question rose its challenging head. “Where to from here?” We have grown. Our minds have been broadened. Our eyes have been opened. Our hearts have been warmed. We have changed. We are no longer the same.

I, for one, can recall how much God has worked to mould me into the person He wants me to become. He clearly loves me far too much to allow me to stay the same. He has broken down my pride, my selfish nature, my desire to be successful and precise in order to build me up in His strength, in His power. He has blessed my time at Manguzi and allowed me to see a whole new side of Him. He has poured out His love and provision on me this year like I have never experienced it before. He has answered all my prayers in spectacular fashion. He has given me strong friendships, growing experiences and overwhelming love. His love never fails.

This year God has taught me:
•To work in His strength, because trying to do things in my own is a complete disaster.
•To wait for His prompting – His timing is perfect.
•When to speak and when to keep silent.
•To have faith that He will provide. No matter what I needed, God has provided it in spectacular fashion.
•To allow Him to bless me – and wow, how wonderful it is to be blessed by the Maker of Heaven and Earth!
•To love generously and sacrificially, be gracious and judge not – behold Jesus and you will become like Him.

So, where to from here? As the car ride with my three friends continued, we discussed what this means for us. Surely we now have a responsibility to speak to those around us about our experiences?; to proclaim the good, the bad and the inspiring moments along our challenging journeys. With a new perspective and understanding of our world, and more particularly, our beloved country, we can no longer afford to keep silent on matters surrounding poverty, injustice, racism, classism, materialism and all the other bad –isms to which we have been exposed.

Yes, we are young, white, privileged females who have lived and worked in old, black, impoverished communities. The contrasts couldn’t be greater. But we have come out on the other side with insight that cannot be held within our hearts alone. We need to break the silence and share our stories with others. We may be different to the people with whom we have worked but now we know them: their histories, their families, their pain, and their stories. We are exposed to a reality much bigger than our own now. We cannot keep silent.
           
There have been countless moments this year when I am bursting with emotion, with inspiration, with knowledge and skills that I can't help but want to use it to better this already incredible country. While there are so many reasons for people to hate South Africa, there are far more reasons to love her; to be moved to be a part of her change rather than ignore it or complain about it. Our country is young, wild and completely crazy but wouldn’t you rather be a part of the chaos than sit on the sidelines and worry about tomorrow?

With the move to Middelburg, Mpumalange, to follow my fiance’, I have got a job working in the local provincial hospital. What was once a strong, thriving hospital has become a shell of what it used to be. Having worked in a rural area, dilapidated buildings, apathetic workers and tough cases come as no new concern to me. What does concern me is people’s reaction to my choice of employment in the run-down hospital. Words such as, “Why?” or “Shame!” have escaped from many people’s mouth as I tell them my active choice of working there. Yes, I had other, easier opportunities for employment but no, that was not where God was leading me. He needs me right here, in the midst of incredible suffering and hardship. It seems that I now have larger, more abstract problems ahead of me compared to that of my rustic bush life last year. The blatant racism within my new privileged community hits me like a rock almost daily as I listen and observe people’s words and actions around me. I am still so unsure of how to react to these motions – with outright anger? with gentle challenging words? by my actions alone? It seems that these are the new challenges God has placed in my path so I head out on a new, greater adventure, with the knowledge and faith that my Lord goes before me and will equip me with all that I could ever need.

I will not keep silent. I am a part of a new generation. I am a soldier. I fight racism. I fight classism. I fight poverty, injustice and oppression. Grace has carried me this far and by Grace I will carry on.

I will end with this final inspiring thought:

Rejoice.... Not so much in victories as in the fact that God is leading them.

Praise... Not so much for His blessings as for His love that prompts them.

Serve.... Not for the ultimate or  resent reward, but for the thrill of knowing that we labour together, that He stands beside you in every enterprise, however trivial.

December memories:

December 16th – Reconciliation day. It seemed like an apt day to connect with Manguzi community members through the giving of 20 litre buckets of food and bags of stationary for the Christmas period. “Buckets and bags of love” is an initiative organised by my Bible study. With donations from all over the world, we managed to raise over R50 000 and hand out about 150 buckets and 150 bags to families in need. On the day, we partnered with local black Christians along with some of our European doctors to drive around and hand deliver buckets across the greater Manguzi area. I was brought to tears on many occupations as I watched impoverish gogo’s dance and clap with joy as they praised God for providing for their very basic needs. Their faith in the midst of such obvious hardship was moving to say the least. I was once again reminded of the call God put on my life for 2014 – just love them, Caryn. Here are a few photos taken on the day:

Other special December moments:

Therapy department's annual Christmas Party

Val, a dietician from Swaziland, gave two of the therapy assistants Swazi flags for Christmas

All hands on deck as a broken hospital car gets pushed around a local clinic in order to bring it back to life

Photo shoot with ladies from the MDR ward after a fun Christmas party

When we can't use our hands to paint we use our feet - the picture of a young CP child during stimulation group

THE LUMINEERS! Attending yet another magical concert with some of my favourite people

I was visited by Ross and Sarah - all the way from Cape Town this month!

Enjoying the local Mozambican 'poison' at Ponto Malangane - R&Rs (Rum and Raspberry)

The long but beautiful walk to Kosi Bay Mouth

And so it ends. My year in the bush has been one unforgettable experience. Thank you for sharing many special moments with me.