Sunday, October 30, 2011

~ More than just a scone ~

A scone is a pastry. I believe its origins are English. The best way I can describe it is halfway between a biscuit and cake. It calls for a perfect mix of saltiness and sweetness, of dryness and moisture. My mom makes a killer scone, usually reserved for Christmas morning. Ever since I can remember we had scones with butter and jams on Christmas morning, it is now a requirement, as much a part of Christmas as Santa or of course baby Jesus…
Upon my arrival to South Africa I was surprised when I stumbled across the scone. A very popular pastry here and a common fixture to go with your daily tea. The first time I was offered a scone with my tea was at the crèche in Machibisa by one of the other teachers. And, I’m telling you, this scone was so good… almost cake like the way it was fluffy on the inside and warm, but had a crunchy and saltier outside crust that definitely made it a scone. We eat them plain at the crèche but I could only imagine how good they would be with some butter and jam. I told the women there about my love for scones and the special place they hold for me in the fact that they remind me of home, my mom, and Christmas, they then insisted I make my mom’s scones around Christmas time, I quickly explained that I am no baker and would probably just buy some instead. They eventually told me that the scones they brought for morning tea were sold just up the road from the crèche for a very cheap R1.50 (about 13cents, American). I made it my goal to find this place so that I could buy myself some scones. Well, I got lazy and never ventured out to find this place… I settled for other scones, I searched for scones that I thought could match those of Machibisa… Checkers, Pick n’ Pay, Shoprite… you name the grocery store and I have tried one of their scones. But, they were never as good. Well, today I finally found my scone shop. I was taken there by Mama Mahay who runs the crèche, we were headed up the road for another reason and I asked her to point out the place where I could find my scones, she took me there and I met Mrs. Nzunzi, the baker of my perfect South African scones. I introduced myself and told her to expect me quite often for scones because in my opinion she made the best scones in Pietermaritzburg and maybe even in South Africa.
You may be wondering, “Elise, why are you going on about scones?” Well, I discovered that in finally finding my perfect scone I have found my perfect South African home. You see, when first getting around PMB I will say I had my doubts, I pictured myself in a more rural setting, really getting down to grassroots, very different from the city that I found myself and PMB had this crunchy and salty exterior at first. I searched for other places, for other scones. I visited rural areas and other placement sites and at first thought, now this is where I should be! This, is a great scone! But, after a few bites… I would miss my scones from PMB, my Mrs. Nzunzi scones. So, today, in finding Mrs. Nzunzi and the place where I can find my perfect South African scone I found PMB’s fluffy cake like center. I know that this is where I should be, and I enjoy it more everyday and with every bite. It will never hold up to my mom’s Christmas scones… but for now, I’m gonna get my butter and jam and enjoy my scone from Mrs. Nzunzi, because for me, it’s the best scone in South Africa.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

~ Does the spread of Christianity also spread the western way? and should it?~

In my first week on my own I was driving with my host supervisor Dean Myaka to a service in the rural areas, he and another pastor that was with us were talking about the Zulu tradition of the Reed Dance where girls dress in traditional clothing and march in front of the Zulu king with a reed in their hands. The discussion led to the mixture of traditional African ceremonies and the Christian religion. There are many, it seems that say you can’t have one without the other, and many that say you can. This led us to a discussion about early missionaries and the idea that when you convert someone to Christianity you must also convert them to a western way of thinking and living. It is an idea and stigma about missionaries that has followed missionaries even into today’s minds. I guess in my own mind I had never thought of westernization and Christianization as two different things, they always went hand in hand for me as one entity. I now realize that this is not true, they are in fact two very different things that have been molded together and mixed up through the course of history. If you think about it say missionaries that reached Africa were actually from the Middle East where Christianity originated then we’d be living in a very different Africa, one influenced by a Middle Eastern way of life, not a western/ European one. But the reality remains that a western and European way of life was forced on people and it rode the coat-tails of the idea of spreading Christianity.   
I felt almost embarrassed that I had never thought of spreading Christianity and the western idea as two different concepts. But I was also really glad to have this topic opened up in my mind and to discuss it with two people that had a view of life completely different from mine. Myself coming from a culture of the missionary having this conversation with people coming from a culture of those who were affected by missionaries offered some amazing insight and views.
I read a quote in a book that said “as a continent Africa has endured such an unspeakably bizarre combination of foreign thievery and foreign goodwill”. I feel like it couldn’t be a truer statement and the mixture of those feelings come out in conversations like the one I had about westernization and trying to embrace the original African cultures and the new Christian ideals which sometimes come attached with western ideals.
All and all it was a great conversation that opened up a lot of topics that I hadn’t thought about and finally got the chance to simmer over. Just the first of many new trains of thought brought to me in the last seven weeks. I hope that maybe this idea is also new to some of you and opens up some conversations as well.