After a day filled with naps I have regained enough energy to elaborate on the convention craziness that has swept the Village over the past two weeks. In case I failed to mention it earlier the convention was unexpectedly changed venues and set a new earlier starting date about a week before we were to depart. The venue changed because it had been double booked and the new venue, while more pleasant, was about another hour and half down the road. The dates were a typographical error on the notice form. Of course, we were not made aware of the error till about a week and half before departure via e-mail which we had no access to because the computers were not working. We only found out about the change because Rebecca happened to have e-mail access at the house she was staying at in Cape Town while recovering from her surgery. She relayed the message to me through Gary and a general panic ensued from there.
First, it was brought to our attention that we were missing certain forms. This convention had forms for everything. Their were judges forms (3 copies), a Progress Control Form (to document student progress?), parental notification form, health forms, sponsor forms, more judges forms, photographs of students in costume for performance events, passport photos for convention I.D.s, and name cards for all the artwork that simply restated everything that I had written several times already on the other forms. These forms were on the computers that did not work and could not be faxed to us because our fax machine is long over due for an exorcism. In addition to the forms we needed clarification on category guidelines. For each category there are about ten pages of guidelines entirely in fine print. Every minute detail is addressed and every important one is overlooked. To understand the guidelines one must first read to the A.C.E. "International" convention guidelines. Then one must note any changes to the "International" guidelines by referring to the "Republic of South Africa" guidelines. After that, one must decipher the "Namibian" convention guidelines for any additional modifications to the "International" and "Republic of South African" guidelines. Finally, one returns to the "International" guidelines because one has forgotten them at this point. For the record, I have studied Biblical Greek and memorizing noun declension was easier than deciphering these guidelines.
Given the need for these guidelines and my total lack of technology to acquire them I spent the next couple days at the tourist office furiously e-mailing, downloading, and faxing the remaining items needed to complete our registration. In the midst of doing this I had to juggle everything needed to finish the kids entries and teach the class that I have been working with the past month and a half. As I have already detailed, I was working with the kids in soccer and track events. I also helped six kids with entries in art and photography, gave some long jumping advice, and assisted Katie in preparing two dance numbers. Many trips were made to town to finalize everything that was needed.
Some of these trips included going to the open air market to find a tailor named Professor. He was able to do a speedy job on making dance costumes, flags, and hemming pants. Our girls also sat at the market for an entire afternoon getting their hair corn-rowed. Every Namibian woman proclaims their hairdressing skills but, as demonstrated on the girls scalps, talents vary in both execution and speed.
Additional trips were made to the "sandy mall," so named because it is laid out like a mall except their is no roof over the hallways and a sandy road in place of a floor. I scoured the "China shops" (Namibian Wal-Marts stocked with goods to cheap for export anywhere else) for a tie and presentable clothing as detailed in "International" Convention Guidelines section II-4. After finding some shirts with all the buttons I set out to complete my kids entries.
I was lucky enough to find a photography shop that had an Epson ink-jet and could print decent A4 size prints. I was also able to purchase matboard at this location. Now in Namibia, any sort of high quality cardboard passes as matboard as long as one spray paints it a nice color. I refused to do this as it represented everything unholy that I had learned in art school. Of course, my solution was only mildly better. Armed with nothing more than "really nice" cardboard, white pastel paper, a glue stick, a dull box cutter, and a 12" ruler (for a 16" mat) I managed to create a presentable display. (As long as no one looked to closely.) With "Namibian" guideline VII-23b completed at sometime around eleven o'clock in the evening, soccer and school uniforms packed, costumes ready, and the kids packed and in bed I set out to fill my suitcase for our early morning departure.
I have already told the story of our fateful driving experience so I will fast forward to the actual convention...
We arrived at the Out of Nature Restcamp where the convention was to be held well with in the scheduled registration time. Unbeknownst to us, an executive decision had been made to schedule many things during registration time that we were apparently already late for. After two days of rough driving we hurried the kids into their school uniforms and I began to complete yet another set of forms detailing information that I believe I had already given them. (Namibia was once a German colony and I attribute the copious record keeping as a cultural inheritance.) The adults received their judging assignments and I carried back to my room a box full of binders detailing yet more judging guidelines.
The next morning we started the athletic competitions. Due to a lower than expected turn-out and last minute cancellations the competition was a little thin. My boys were the only ones signed up for the distance running events. Nevertheless, they all beat their best practice times by more than twenty seconds and despite their 11-13 age range they were running at paces that 14-15 year olds run back in the States. Our girls had a fair amount of competition but still brought home many gold and silver medals! Their races were quite exciting to watch and their perseverance and practice was well rewarded.
Due to the low turnout we ended up being the only school to organize a soccer team. This was deeply disappointing to me as we had practiced very hard for it and the boys were very excited to show off the uniforms that we had donated from the States. Luckily, a championship game was organized for us to play an "All-Star" team made up of boys from the other schools. We traveled a short distance down the road to a soccer field at a local school. Along the way I missed the turnoff and was forced to make a three point turn that ended badly for the Quantum's bumper. (Check memo line: Kevin/Poor Quantum) Upon arriving at the field the game started with our boys moving the ball effortlessly through the opposing team's defenses. By half time we had racked up six goals and left the opposing team, made up of mostly Afrikaners, with faces as red as the Windhoek dirt. Out of sympathy for the poor boys and a desire to see my kids challenged we invited some villagers who had gathered to watch the game to join in for the second half. The second half was far more interesting and evenly matched. Despite giving up some last minute goals the Zion boys managed to hold on to the lead and bring home a gold medal.
The other days of the convention I spent several hours judging the art and photography entries. I was surprised at the level of the artwork I saw and gave high marks to most of the entries. Our kids did well in Photography and won the Watercolor division. I was very proud of their performance given that they had nearly set their pencils and brushes on fire trying to complete their work in about a week and a half while the other kids (as noted on their Progress Control Form) had spent several weeks if not months working. Speaking of forms, I would like to note that we were the only school that actually had all the needed forms complete and present at time of judging. After everything I went through to complete them I was rather liberal with my deductions for those who lacked them.
The talk of the convention, however, was our performance on the stage. We had kids entered in story telling, preaching, and expressive reading that left the judges and the audience in tears on every occasion. My personal favorite was the vocal ensemble that our kids participated in. What was particularly amazing about their performance is that we had not planned on doing it. When we found out that the convention date had been moved up we canceled our vocal entry because it had received little rehearsal time and we felt would not be ready. Despite the forms detailing our cancellation we were still on the schedule to perform. We quickly found a song that all the kids knew the words to and Rebecca rehearsed it with the kids for about fifteen minutes. Maybe it was the rawness of their performance or their natural ability as signers but the kids gave a stirring and deeply moving presentation. Somehow in their music, all the pain they had been through and their perseverance despite it was expressed. They managed to push aside their own insecurities and shyness to truly pour their souls out in song. There was not a tearless eye in the hall and even I broke my normally stoic facade.
Our vocal, dance, reading, and preaching performances had impressed the judges so much that our kids were invited to perform once again at the evening rallies for all present. I'm not sure that our shy kids were entirely thrilled with the honor of performing in front of everyone but they did a good job nonetheless. It was clear that our kids had touched something in most of the other people in attendance. I believe it was not only their stellar performances but the fact that the performers were children whom four, five, six years ago were living on the street or bush and coping with conditions unimaginable in the States. It was truly a testament to all the blessings that these children have received but also to what all children, no matter their background, are capable of when nurtured, guided, and given the opportunity to test their talents.
One of our girls competed in an expressive reading category. She read an excerpt from a book by Mother Teresa. She truly brought the words to life as she recited the nun's plea for all to trust the poor...
- "The greatest injustice done to our poor is that we fail to trust them, to love them. How often we just push and pull." -Mother Teresa, Total Surrender
Everytime we stopped to refuel on the trip down and back at least one, if not more, children came to our car window asking for a handout. They were routinely shoeless and dirty. It became an odd division to watch our kids look at them through the windows of the mini-bus. The tinted glass served as a mirror to their past, hopefully one never to be repeated in their lives. By fate, chance, luck, the grace of God, or whatever you have come to believe our children have been trusted with gifts and blessings that while humble by Western standards are great by Namibian standards. Through this endowment, these children have cultivated their minds, bodies, and spirits to serve as an inspiration to me; an example of what all people, rich, poor, young, and old, can achieve when the spark of the spirit is allowed to burn and not extinguished by preconception, distrust, and fear.
If there is one solemn prayer, it is that as these children grow and mature that they liberate themselves from the push and pull that Mother Teresa describes; a push from above that distrusts them and a pull from below that fears anything different. That they become the bearers of force on their own destinies, leaders of their communities, and pursuant not of temporal material wealth that corrupts so much of this continent and the world but examples of spiritual refinement in their love towards God and their brothers and sisters the world over.
It is a high calling for orphans but they are capable as long as their compass is true and we trust them to navigate their own paths. If they succeed we should all hope to guide our ships in their wake.
