The Workshops End

We have come to the end of the workshops and begun to decompress from the intensity of the past three weeks back in Port Shepstone were we started. The final day at Trinsit managed to combine so many elements of all the workshops it was almost as if it had been ordained as a review of our experiences.

The closing ceremony was scheduled for 11:30. Around 11:00 one of the participants in leadership asked if they could have five minutes before the end to do something. I told him yes and asked what he wanted me to do. He told me to just sit down. Then one of the other principals, a tall man of considerable dignity, stood and began to speak. As with an earlier blog, I will paraphrase poorly what he said so well.

“On the first day, when we walked into the room we were all nervous. Here was this tall white foreigner with a booming voice we did not know and who did not know us. Because English is our second or third language we were afraid we would not understand you and did not know what to expect. But we learned from you, both from what you said and from who you are. Our country is like a train, with first, second, and third class cars. Even though we blacks are most of our country, we ride in third class. You came to be with us. Thank you. You gave us tools to help us. Thank you.”

He spoke longer than these words show, but it was difficult to listen to him because I had been filled with doubt. Throughout the week I was upset at myself when I often could not understand words they were saying and had to ask several times what they meant, only to find they had the same fear. And they were thanking me when I felt indebted to them. Every day I would leave Room 5 with the feeling I had not given them as much as they deserved, and surely not as much as they had given me. When he was finished, all I could say was that whenever I was with them I considered myself in first class.

We ended our sessions together with a group picture and filling out evaluation sheets. They wrote that the workshop was helpful to them. I wish they knew how indebted they should be to Lyla who trained me over the first two workshops to take over when she had to leave for the third. They deserved to have the best, which was her, but she was able to help an old codger like me rise high enough to be “O Kayyy” (a small joke that only people who have been here can understand).

From there we went to the final closing, one last amazing experience with these teachers and principals. As they filled the auditorium, they began to sing. Those voices that had filled our rooms as well as our hearts for almost a month broke into a spontaneous outpouring of joy that is impossible to explain, that can only be felt. It is like the roar of the lion we heard a week earlier. The lion’s roar resonates from a place so deep within him that you do not really hear it, you feel it at the core of your being. It is the same with their singing. It envelopes you, it surrounds you, it seems to become part of you. These people who had met only a few days before sang in parts and in harmony. It is impossible to do without weeks of practice, but they did it. And then they began to dance, some coming out of their seats while those who were entering the auditorium picked up both the song and the dance as soon as they entered. I tried to capture a part of it on video. The lighting was poor and after five minutes I was afraid my camera would run out of memory or battery or both so I stopped, but I hope there is enough so those who see those few minutes can get at least a glimpse of the wonderful gift we were given, the enormous privilege we were granted when we came here.

Finally they settled down and we sat through a little slide show followed by the customary speeches and goodbyes. Yunus talked of how important the teachers are to the nation and their need to change things, Mark lead them in a rousing rendition of the Math Dance, a wonderful way to capture their exuberance, Robin burst out with his enthusiasm, as he always did, Barbara (Sis B) thanked them while she was wearing her tall “earth hat” that was the trademark of her science section, young Amy thanked them on behalf of all the students who don’t yet know enough to thank their teachers, I spoke of my confidence that they would create a marvelous future that my generation would never see, Aaron reminded them that technology was within their grasp to create that future, and Jim opened his heart as he always does. Certificates were passed out and we went to the parking lot to see them off.

As if to remind us of the other side of this adventure, that night the plumbing in the dorms became magical. Hot water began to flow from both faucets. It bordered on scalding so we could not use it for showering or bathing (although there had been an earlier attempt to cool it down with bottled water, an act of futility that was never repeated). Then, once again, the toilets began to flush hot water, a mystery that remains to this day. When we awoke the next morning, the scalding hot water problem had been solved…we had no water. Finally, after our bags went ahead in a truck to Port Shepstone with all our clothes and soap and such, the water returned to normal. Soon after we left Trinsit for Port Shepstone and this adventure began to wind down.