MAMBA MATERNITY WARD
During a recent conversation Stan Mamba (resident handyman genius) said "Well, Sg'coko, I have a son". I knew he had one son, a young man who stayed a number of years with him here at the school. I sensed something else was coming. "Make wa Sina gave birth on Saturday." Cultural note: In Swaziland, women with children here are referred to as "mother of [child's name]". Hence Ruth is "Make wa Grace" or "Make wa Cubby", not usually "Mrs. Poglitsh".

Naturally I told Mamba I was happy for him. Stan then proceeded to describe the circumstances of the birth.

Swazi nurses are notorious for their um, less-than-Marcus Welby-style bedside manner. We have heard stories of verbal abuse and gross inattention from Swazi nurses in government hospitals. Make wa Sina (Stan's wife) lived through such an unpleasant experience with the birth of Sinathemba. Apparently, she buzzed for a nurse as she began to deliver. No nurse came. When a nurse finally showed up some time later, Stan's wife had delivered Sina. The nurses complained to her, "Why didn't you call?" Well, Make wa Sina was determined not to repeat this or a worse experience.

On Saturday morning the 26th, she said she didn't feel very good. But she did not mention that they were labor pains, and she declined to go for medical attention. Stan began his busy day. Sometime after dark, while giving a lift to someone in the community, Mamba got his truck stuck in a rut. While puzzling about how to extract the bakkie, he got a call from home. Make wa Sina had delivered right in their teacher's house, attended by a couple of her sisters (her homestead of origin is nearby). All's well that ends well, but even Mamba conceded that had she experienced complications, things would have been very difficult. That night got wet and slippery, and Mamba's car was already trapped in a rut. Thanks be to God everything went well. Mom and Wakhile (the son) are doing well.

STRIKE ACTION
As with many governments around the world, Swaziland's government is broke. The government suggested cutting salaries for civil servants (the IMF has suggested reducing the govt. payroll for years; the Swazi govt. instead kept giving raises) and teachers got upset. They staged a protest march in March, which went peacefully and, according to one participant I spoke with, successfully. Government was still interested in pay cuts, so teachers stayed home or joined a protest march on Tuesday April 12th. Since I'm not a member of the teacher's union and figure I make enough money, I went to school and tried to do my job. I did not know, just as no one else knew, what would happen. But very little happened at Nsukumbili; my students for the first class I was to teach had been shanghaied into harvesting corn. After that class came the first break, and students were sent home by the headmaster after the break. He instructed the students to return on Friday. I spoke with someone on Wednesday, and he said this march was not as successful as the previous one. I've spent some time helping compile report cards which we'll distribute on Friday. I don't know how worried folks were about this; I was worried, but as I said, nothing bad happened here at school. Looks like it'll be a pretty calm end to the school term. I hope government and the teachers can reach an agreement; probably no raises for 3 years would be fair to all. We will see what happens.


FAMILY AND DEVELOPMENT
On a trip to town earlier this month Cub and I went to Carter's Mall, Mbabane's equivalent of Home Depot. Carter's Mall isn't as big or as fluorescently lit, but it still has pretty much everything you're looking for. On the way through the checkout, the ladies at the cash register noted that Cub and I were together. I said yes, and the cashiers and I got into a discussion of marriage and family. This, by the way, is not the sort of conversation I ever remember having at a Home Depot cash register in Fort Myers, Florida or anywhere else in the USA.

Anyway, we agreed on one thing: if husbands would just treat their wives and children better, the world would be a happier place. They said things like "There you are with your daughter; there is love" and "A woman is like a balloon; if you love her, she fills up and up. If you puncture her with sharp comments, she goes flat". We all agreed that if each man made better efforts to love his wife and children, all these non-governmental organizations focusing on women in development, or ending violence against women, or promoting gender equality, etc. would become unnecessary. I know the road runs both ways, but I'm a man, so let me speak to the men: let's make the extra efforts to treat our wives like queens, and our children with love and proper training. Our homes will flourish, and maybe other guys will get the idea, and who knows how far the good reverberations will go?

SOCCER
I'm still officially disconnected to the soccer team, which is how I like it. But that game is in my bones, so it's very hard to pay NO attention to it. The boys have played three games. They lost the first two, 4-1 and 5-2. Both of their opponents in these games were weak to average. Our boys played like someone had spiked their drinking water with sedatives; they played with little determination or interest. Their third game was against Mater Dolorosa School (MDS), a perennial powerhouse but a team that had tied our first opponent 1-1. I feared for our team, but that tie certainly seemed anomalous.

When I coached in the 2009 season, we introduced the "team dinner"-a big rice and chili gathering for the players at our house the day before the game. We had a team dinner before the MDS match, complete with a replaying of the USA-Mexico second round game from World Cup 2002 on the vcr (it's funny how "2002" and "vcr" sound antiquated now).

I tossed some "Mr. Nice Hot Chilli: Sinandzi-Nandzi Saphelephele" hot sauce into the beans, having found our crushed red pepper overrun with ants. This is a blood-red, locally-produced salsa-like seasoning guaranteed to make my bald head shine with sweat. I use it to liven up my food, as the girls like their fare pretty bland. I put a fraction of a teaspoon into 3 cups of chili in my own bowl with trepidation. On this day, feeling time pressure and a desire to make this a "manly" meal, I tossed 1 1/2 tablespoons into the beans.

Whether it was the hot pepper or something else, the team was INSPIRED against MDS. They controlled the play, they made plenty of scoring opportunities, and most importantly, they played with a determination to win. Unfortunately, they lost, 1-0. One defensive lapse cost them a goal, and despite a barrage of attack on MDS' goal and numerous near-misses, they simply could not score. Both teams seemed to recognize the result "should" have gone the other way. They have one more game to play, which will have to be played when school opens in May (this term ends April 15th). I hope they get to play it (that long a delay for a game when at least one of the teams cannot advance may mean the game is not played at all), and I hope they win it by scoring lots of goals. It would be a great ending to a "turnaround" season.

ABNER
About 10 days after a funeral, friends and relatives of the deceased re-convene at the deceased's homestead for an all-night prayer vigil. Abner Dlamini's prayer vigil was Saturday night April 9th. I did not want to spend all night, but I did want to make an appearance. I did that early (by vigil standards-9:30 to 10:30PM) in the evening. Ruth and the girls stayed home.

The atmosphere at the homestead wasn't very prayerful at that time; there was lots of laughter. I like laughter, but I expected something a little more somber. Maybe people were letting off steam. Anyway, I sat in a hut with my back to the wall and dozed, while the other men in the hut exchanged brief comments-something like the real-life version of Twitter "tweets", I suppose. I did not get to see either of Abner's wives; one was asleep, and I didn't ask about the other one. Frankly, I was glad to leave.

On the way home I got to enjoy stretches of non-electric-light night walking. This was the only way to travel by foot the first time I was here. It is now harder and harder to find, as more and more homesteads get electrified. I certainly don't begrudge anyone their electricity; we sure do like it ourselves. But somehow the stars are more vibrant when they aren't competing with house security lights. On the walk back I got to enjoy the dark outlines of trees silhouetted on a starry backdrop. On the trip to the homestead, I got to see moonlight shimmering on the slow-flowing Mbuluzi River. These brief and delightful experiences made me ask why young people throw their lives away for sex (read HIV/AIDS). Why would people living out here trade simple and beautiful things like this (and these are but a small examples) for a brief thrill carrying a lethal price tag? It is painful to think of the friends and acquaintences who have died. It is chilling to wonder "Who's next?"

TEACH YOUR CHILDREN WELL
The attached article was published in the Times of Swaziland a couple months back. I really liked it, and I think it applies as well in the US as it does in Swaziland. Read, think, and apply.

GONE FISHIN'
The other attached article also appeared in the Times. On April 1st. Read, think, and enjoy.

Have a good day,
The Poglitshs