Should have been posted 3 September 2010
40
The Sibebe Challenge bike race, a 40km adventure along paths around this area, took place on Saturday, Aug. 28. David, Terry, and Solomon Litty, who live just a couple kilometers from the starting point, graciously put me up on Friday night. I got to the starting point about 6AM; no other cyclists were there yet. A few minutes after my arrival, a number of grade-school age kids appeared. For a brief moment, my hopes of winning this race were kindled. I may be 42 years old, I thought, but surely I can outpace these little guys! Inevitably, however, the heavy hitters gradually arrived, and I knew I was back to cycling for pleasure.

We got off about 20 minutes late, but it was a real blast. We started out the road to the school taken by Shining Star bus; I could only think again and again to myself "Man this is MY neighborhood; I know just how long and steep this hill is, and I know where it bends, etc. At least for this part, I'm gonna do ok." I did pass a few people on that initial stretch, and got passed by one guy whom I never saw again. But that was okay.

The course left the road and took a turnoff I have never travelled, looking down into the Mbuluzi river valley. I've been in that valley many times, but had never seen it from this perspective. Small knots of homestead children stood at their gates and cheered us as we came by. There were only about 20-25 racers by the way; I was by myself most of the trip. This was good, as it removed the competitive edge from the experience; I really wanted to enjoy this, and not get wound up about winning.

The course rejoined some old roads I know from walking to town, and I got the "home field advantage" rush again. I called Ruth (you can see I wasn't so concerned about time) and told her where I was, but that I wasn't sure how close we'd come to the school.

The course then went down to the river and crossed it. This marked (I think) the halfway point in the race. I was having a great time. Thing was, just after crossing the river, the course went up a bunch of steep hills. This meant a lot of getting off and pushing the bike. Also, as I have been riding about 4-5km three times a week and I had now covered about 20, my legs began to complain about the uphill pedaling. The mode of complaint was cramps. More later.

I went along some paths I had been on but rarely; boy, they are lots steeper when you have a bike than when you are just walking! I got passed by a guy at least 10 years older than me. Humbling, and a reminder that age (for better or worse) isn't everything. Coasting down a hill I thought this would be a good time for one of the candy bars I bought in town. Suprising what an appetite for sugar/carbohydrates biking can give you! I did not think I could eat a 200 gram (7 oz.) chocolate bar in less than 2 minutes. Ruth sent me a text message about 3km before a water point right next to the school (I forget how she figured out the course came so close, but I was glad). I told her I was getting close, and the legs were cramping nearly to the point of refusing to work at all. We met up, took some photos, I drank a bunch of water, the girls unwrapped chewy candies and pressed them into my hands (and I crammed them into my mouth), then I charged off again.

The course went up another steep hill; a bystander (a former student, actually) said the course went to the water source. I knew that way was steep. A little fear of my ability to finish crept into my mind. But I decided to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Another racer and I went along for a while. During the next uphill, the legs really did cramp and refuse to go. I jumped off the bike, screaming and stretching them. The other competitor gave me what she called "tissue tablets"; she said they had calcium and something else (I forget what now). If she had said they had nitroglycerine, arsenic, and battery acid, I wouldn't have cared: as long as they promised to relieve the cramps I would take them. Whether they had any effect or not, the cramps did not return (though they did threaten to; the rest of the trip was walking a tightrope between pedaling to make faster progress but not pedaling so hard that the muscles cramped again).

That racer soon left me behind. The path went through some areas I had never seen, and that was great; it's always fun to see new areas. Some of the areas had been recently burned, though, and those stretches looked like the land of Mordor from "The Lord of the Rings". There were times I felt like Sam or Frodo, travelling through scorched desolation with fading strength and no water and precious few signs of other bikers. Some of you may know the U2 song "40"; it includes lines like "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry". "He set my feet upon a rock, made my footsteps firm". I learned a few years ago that those are lines from Psalm 40 in the Bible (hence the song title). Those few verses went around and around in my mind, as only song lyrics can when you are doing semi-monotonous work or need inspiration. The song also includes a line "How long, to sing this song". That verse passed through my mind too, with a twist: "How long, will this course go on". Still, I could not think of a place I would rather have been at that moment. I mean, how often do you get to have adventures like this?

Eventually I ended up on top of Sibebe, and the tracks were clearer. I knew where the path down to the Sibebe gatehouse (which was where the starting point was), and found the way down. What a relief to see those parked cars at the bottom of the hill! I crossed the finish line, they cut my number plate off my bike and took it (I could understand that, though it would have been fun to keep it), got off the bike and took a rest. One of the kids who arrived early wanted to talk, so he asked questions about Ruth and the kids, where we live, where the children were born, etc. When it came time to stand up, I told him "Now you stay close to me when I stand up, because I don't know how steady I'll be". Sure enough, the blackout/headrush thing came on me, and I grabbed that kid for dear life. Thankfully I didn't fall down. I called Ruth and told her I'd finished, then I called David Litty and threw myself on his mercy, asking for a ride back to the school. He was in a time crunch but he graciously took me, piling the bike in the back of his car and me into the front seat. 30 minutes later I was soaking my feet in a basin in the living room while Ruth and the girls and I enjoyed popcorn. What a good day.

Leonard Dlamini, a former (1990s) student who was pretty involved in organizing the race, called on Monday. He said they were looking for input for next year, as 30% of the trail this year was pushing the bike uphills. On Sunday Ruth and I had indeed talked about alternate paths out here, and this morning (Thursday) I took a longer than usual ride, looking for options. I think I'll do it again next year, and might even have a finger in the course layout. It was fun.

SIGNS OF THE TIMES
I (Ruth) was reading a story to my girls. One of the lines went:
"Grandma said, 'Your Grandpa would have been SO proud...' Grandma had a tear in her eye."

I asked the girls what this line meant. No response. I asked, "Where is Grandpa? Why isn't he here?"
Gracie piped up, "Grandma and Grandpa split up."

I was stunned. My first reaction was--these are GRANDPARENTS for goodness sake! Grandparents can't be divorced. Then I started thinking of the divorced Grandparents I know. I finally got out a response,"Well Gracie, that is a very MODERN answer."

Late that night I was pondering how different the world is. I didn't know any divorced grandparents and I couldn't have imagined a divorced grandparent when I was a child. I still have trouble imagining such a thing--the two categories don't fit together in my head. Slowly the irony of the situation surfaced. My own Grandfather, who died before I was born, had been divorced before he married my Grandmother. While divorced Grandparents were unimaginable in my world, they were not nonexistent.

OPINIONS ON AIDS
AIDS is a recurrent theme in these newsletters, as it is a major dynamic in the life of Swaziland right now. Posted at poglitshphotos.blogspot.com are two newspaper articles from the Times of Swaziland. One is an interview with a man of significant cultural rank. Without giving too much away, the responses to his interview were overwhelmingly strong and negative-which is a good thing. The other is by a medical person, who seems to miss the point that an ounce of waiting until marriage is worth a metric ton of technological interventions. A line like "Male circumcision and early HIV treatment are the strongest interventions in our armament and we should avail ourselves of these opportunities" would be laughable were it not so lethally false. That approach makes sense if we enjoy some universal right to consequence-free sex, which we do not, and which we never have, and which zillions of dollars and the brightest minds in the world have not been able to bring to fruition. A HIV rate hovering in the mid-30% range for pregnant women would indicate that boatloads of condoms, free circumcisions, etc. are not doing the job.

On the other hand, a longtime friend of ours relayed a hopeful story to us this week. She called an office trying to contact someone. The man who answered the phone asked her name. She gave her last name, and he said (pseudonym) "FRANCINE Johnsen?" Our friend said yes. The man said "I read your book about staying a virgin until marriage. When I was in college my classmates laughed at me and said 'You don't know how to have fun'. I did indeed wait for sex until marriage, when I married a fine Christian girl. As for my classmates, I have attended their funerals, and have visited them when they are sick in the hospital. Who is having the fun now?"

Reality inexorably grinds out its consequences. I sincerely hope more and more Swazis take this young man's approach to life, and ditch the approaches advocated by the other two men. It is a matter of life and death.

PHOTOS OF CUBBY WALK
Last week I could not access our blog; it may be that the company running the internet shop is trying to filter out junk sites (good for them), but it seems the program they used is a little overenthusiastic! The site is available again, and photos of Cubby's 5-hour ascent of Sibebe from the backside are now available. Enjoy.

Have a good day,
Rudy for the gang