Small Things Make a Big Difference

When we arrived in South Africa, Yunus (the leader and heart of our group) made it very clear that we were here as colleagues, not as experts from afar. It was our experiences that separated us from our South African colleagues, not our abilities or our intelligence or our expertise. Holding fast to that played out in many small ways that made a big difference to our new found friends here, and to us.

We moved into the dorms with the participants on Sunday evening. It was very cold and we all looked forward to a nice warm shower. Much to our surprise and chagrin, there was no hot water to be had. On Monday morning I was perhaps the only one who braved the chill and took a VERY cold shower, an act I decided shortly thereafter not to repeat. Sitting at breakfast, we men learned that the women had hot water.

That evening off we traipsed to the women’s shower armed with a note “TWB Men in Shower” taped to the door. Some among us suggested we add a post-script that said “Visitors Welcomed” but we decided against it. That night we were struck again. This time all running water seemed to disappear except for one tub that had only hot water. A few brave souls tried to use some bottled water to cool it down enough for a quick bath but that proved to be a vain effort. Shortly there was no water anywhere, and then, in the middle of the night, the floods came. The upper floors were covered with an inch of water, something I discovered in the middle of the night as I went wandering in the dark for a bathroom that might be working. For reasons we never understood, the first floor never flooded.

But the crowning moment was yet to come. All of a sudden the toilets began to flush hot water. When this mystery of the universe happened, the showers and sinks were still bone dry. It is a strange thing to flush a toilet and see clouds of steam rise up from the bowl.

Eventually all this was worked out. We still do not understand how the plumbing could have been designed so that all these phenomena could occur, but the humor of all this brought about a result that touches on this idea that small things can make a big difference.

In the final half hour with our fellow principals in the leadership workshop, they asked Lyla (the leader of our portion) and me (the assistant) to sit down in the front of the room. Then Zena, the self identified senior principal of the group, began to thank us. Paraphrasing the best I can, this is what she said.

“Thank you. Thank you Lyla and Andy, not only for what you gave us in the workshop, but also for what you gave us of yourselves. You worked with us. You stayed with us, you ate with us, you talked with us. When things were uncomfortable you did not leave us. White people do not do this. They stay away. They are not like you. God made us black and He made us black for a reason. It must be a good reason. Thank you for how you have been with us."

Zeta was much more eloquent than I could hope to be. Her words could not help but move us. As soon as she was finished, one of the men started a song of “Thank You” based on our names. In a rhythm that seems unique and pervasive to this place, the rest of the teachers joined in, somehow able to add harmony to a song created on the spot.

Flooded floors and hot water toilets gave rise to a moment that will never be forgotten. There have been so many of them on this trip. It makes you wonder if those same moments occur just as often when we are home but our familiarity with our day to day lives causes us to miss them.