Today marked day two of our safari excursion (and the first time I’ve woken up before 8 am in several months!). We began with an early-morning game drive, then breakfast and some time to ourselves before having lunch and embarking on our evening drive. During the drives, we spotted a crocodile, hippos, cheetahs, giraffes, and a pride of lions. Despite my notorious long-time struggle for early-morning wakeups, I found the morning out in the wild to be an incredible peaceful experience; in watching the sunrise and staying quiet to look for animals I had plenty of time for wandering thoughts. Some of them gravitated toward the book I am currently reading. After visiting the Apartheid Museum, a couple of weeks ago and reading an excerpt of Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s book at his exhibit, I wanted to learn more and downloaded The Book of Joy. It was written based on a visit’s worth of conversations between the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Tutu, and the two discuss various events in their lives in relation to their philosophies and those of their beliefs and faiths regarding joy and living fulfilling lives.
Though some of the sage advices of Archbishop Tutu and the Dalai Lama are broad in seem broad and philosophical, they are also very grounded in real experiences of struggle. Some of the themes we’ve been discussing and have been surrounded by during our time here can get rather heavy. In learning about South Africa’s history from various perspectives, we’ve heard of the journey of the South African people towards freedom, but also about the centuries of atrocities that they went through, the struggle within the latter part of the 20th century, and how oppressive systems prevail today. We’ve discussed in class illnesses within public and global health like TB and HIV/AIDS, and at least in my view, thinking about these illnesses and those that live with them should innately come with a high degree of consideration and compassion for the suffering of ill persons.
It is especially challenging to contend with human actions that lead to human suffering, whether it be the restriction to any life-saving medication or systemic oppression. It is easy to find difficulty in believing in the good of others when we’re surrounded and constantly reminded of the bad.
Today on safari, our ranger Julian said that “no animal is inherently dangerous”, though most will act violently to defend themselves in reaction to infringements upon themselves or their environments. In practice, this is very hard to remember. As I’m writing this, Julian has let my roommate and I know that there are three large animals surrounding our tent and that we shouldn’t come out, but as we can hear them crashing loudly outside, I am finding it hard to remember that they are likely herbivores rather uninterested in eating us. This sentence he said this morning, though, reminded me of a line I read last night in Archbishop Tutu’s book: “We’ve always got to be recognizing that despite the aberrations, the fundamental thing about humanity, about humankind, about people, is that they are good, they were made good, and they really want to be good.” We’ve also seen several examples of this during our time in South Africa: evidence of human goodness has been everywhere from the wonderful people caring for us at Rivonia to Constitution Hill, the community health workers, and Dr. Ndjeka.
It’s hard to remember Archbishop Tutu’s words when confronting difficult histories, illness, oppression, just as it is currently very difficult for Iana and I to remember Julian’s words from this morning. However, I think that part of being and existing in community is that we are here to remind one another of this, hence my last thought, which is simply an expression of gratefulness that we are here and that we have one another.
