BAD NEWS
A stalwart young man at the outstation church, named Waley Dlamini has died. The cause of death is unknown. He was no older than 30 years. We were told Sunday, April 18th that he was quite sick and was admitted to the government hospital. The very next day, Godfrey Mubiru called us and told us he had died. Pray for his family, including his mother Margaret Khanyile (another stalwart at the church) in a cruddy time.

We knew we wanted to express our condolences to Waley's family, but it seemed too much to take the whole family (including newborn and convalescing mom) to the night vigil. In case I haven't explained in the past, the night vigil is an all-night gathering of friends and family at the homestead, or parental homestead, of the deceased. A church service and singing take place all night, and the burial is close to dawn the next morning. It does afford something like catharsis, and also reinforces the realization that the deceased is really gone. It also makes it possible for people to attend distant funerals, because it may take all day to get to and return from the burial. This way, one can make the trip to the location on Saturday and spend Sunday getting home. Food is provided by the bereaved family, as is accomodation in the form of tents or floorspace inside the houses.

We asked Ruth Dlamini, wife of the former headmaster, what we could do for the bereaved without taking the whole family to the vigil. She mentioned that well-wishers are free to visit the homestead during the week before. This was a good arrangement. We all visited the family on Friday morning; it was as pleasant as such a visit could be. Then Saturday, after returning from Mbabane with Grace, Rudy went to the homestead for the vigil. Godfrey and Xolile Mubiru were there, as were other church members, and we had some pleasant chats in the early evening. Father Maseko, the priest who celebrates Mass at the oustation church once a month, was due at 9PM for Mass. I put my head down on my backpack on the bench in front of me and entered "hibernate" mode: not full sleep, but more sleep than awake. Some time later (I don't know how long), someone appointed by Margaret Khanyile was sent to tell me to go to bed. They had noticed their somnolescent visitor and showed him mercy. They said they'd get me before Mass started. So I was given a full-size bed and thick blanket. Off came my shoes and I slept.

Sure enough, about 9:45PM someone came and told me to hurry because Mass was starting. I was given a bench seat close to the "altar"; nothing as awkward as coming in late and being given the best seat in the house. After that I returned to my hibernation position-only to be told again to go back to the bed! I am a night-vigil lightweight. I set my alarm for 3:30AM and crashed again.

When the alarm went off I returned to the main tent. A few more prayers were said, then the whole crowd (at least 500) went with the coffin to the burial site, about a quarter mile from the homestead. More singing, then the coffin was lowered into the grave. The hole was filled in and then rocks were placed around and on top of the dirt. I was in the group of men moving rocks, bucket-brigade style, from the quarry to the grave. I was struck at the sight of a man with a shock-white goatee involved in the burial. He was burying someone half or a third his age.

After the burial is done and words of thanks are given, things are pretty much over. Folks walk back to the homestead and enjoy a final meal, then begin their journeys home. I passed on the food (I'd already been fed twice), and I'm sure someone else could happily eat my portion. I asked to see Mrs. Khanyile one last time. We wordlessly clasped hands and I gave her a hug, though hugs aren't common here and it was a little awkward. Maybe I needed the hug more than she did. Then off down the road, back to home. I stopped at the outstation church to finish my morning prayers. I've often thought it would be nice to have my regular morning prayers there, but the fact that it's an hour away by foot has, of course, made that rare. Today it was possible and appropriate. After that, I made the hour long trip back home. Having not seen Ruth and the kids (except Grace) for almost a day, it was good to be back. During that walk I met some Jericho church members coming from a separate all-night prayer vigil. We exchanged some words in SiSwati. The main man I spoke with said (in English) "It is nice; you know SiSwati!" This was a cheerful word after a sad evening.

A new group of Peace Corps Volunteers will arrive soon. I'm talking to one of the Peace Corps administrators about participating in a panel discussion with the trainees. I wrote a "panel proposal" in an effort to get my foot in the door. I attach it here. Ruth and I wrote it after getting back from the funeral Sunday.

ADMINISTRATIVE ROULETTE
School closed on Thursday, April 22. I was told by a senior teacher on Wednesday that we would close on Friday. On Thursday afternoon the vice-principal asked asked me if I had passed out report cards (I'm a class teacher this year, which makesreport cards one of my responsibilities). I said no. She said to do it. I asked "What about attendance?" I was thinking that we had one more day of school, and how would the attendance portion of the report card include that if I give them out Thursday? She said we were closing today. I wasn't entirely suprised, but I noted again how fast plans change.

NSUKUMHILLBILLY
You situate yourself during a bereavement visit (see above) so that you cannot see the butchering of the cow which will be eaten at the funeral. Your 7 year old daughter tells you later that she was right at the fence of the corral, watching the whole thing.
Hillbilly

While listening to a cd with the kitchen door open, you hear something on a song you have not heard before; was it a subtle engineer's addition on the cd you had not noticed before, or was it a cow lowing outside? You're not sure, but you are sure you're a
Hillbilly

PHOTOS
Visit http://poglitshphotos.blogspot.com for photos of the new baby Jabulile.

Have a good day,
Rudy for the gang
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