Truth is both spirit and flesh

by Malika Ndlovu on June 9, 2010

Truth is both spirit and flesh

It is the hotel bill or photograph discovered in a pocket

The open mouth saying nothing in defense

It is the fact splattered across the courtroom

Exposed to cameras, microphones and strangers ears

It is the addict at the brink of suicide

Frozen between picking up a fix or the telephone

It is the vibration in your chest and stomach pit

That hits when you hear or read a real guru’s words

It is the breath absent from the body of a beloved

Who will not wake up or ever laugh into your eyes

It is the child speaking without thinking

Unaware of the adults they have suddenly stripped naked

It is the cut, the scar, the wrinkle, the rash, the swelling

The illness revealed in the face, in the shaking

The toxin reflected in the skin

It is the uninhibited hug projected from the heart

The electricity of a long time lover’s touch

It is the smoke or the stench

That cannot be dismissed or disguised

The bone that waits decades to be found

The memory in our cells

The irrepressible rising of tears

It is the current in our veins

The universal rhythm of our hearts

It can be understood in any language

It lives within the word and the sound

It is liberation and source of great pain

It is both water and fire

It is the visible and the invisible

It is the written and the unwritten

The space and the line

It is different

It is the same

It is buried

It is the silence before

Beneath and beyond

The lie

It waits for you and I

It will not die

Truth is both spirit and flesh

Today I was given the opportunity to attend a bereavement conference here in Cape Town. The crowd was filled with people and professionals from all walks of life. During the conference I was honored to have the opportunity to meet Malika Ndlova... an author, poet, performer and mother who describes herself as a Durban-born performer-word-weaver-story-lover. She filled the room with her presence the moment she opened her mouth and touched me deeply with her performance this afternoon. She began with an enchanting, echoing song that poured out of her little body and into the entire conference room. During the performance of one of her poems I struggled between sitting with my eyes closed, listening, taking every word she said in and feverishly attempting to write down every single word she said. The poem began with a description of the human form that I will carry with me for the rest of my life: we are light beings. Malika then slapped her chest, her legs, and her arms and stated, "We are so much more than this... this body, this life, is simply a veil... we are born to bring light... we are light beings, portals of love, makers of peace, creators of beauty..." Every word she spoke held such strength and gravity that I could almost see it dripping out of her mouth and slowly falling down and out into the space around her like water flowing from a faucet. I have been searching for about an hour online and sadly have yet to find the full poem anywhere online... but luckily I will have the opportunity to see her again within the week and find out which published piece of her work I can find my light beings poem. She will be delivering a copy of her book Invisible Earthquake to me at work at the Red Cross Hospital due to the fact that she ran out of copies today. Only here does it seem so natural for a woman such as this to offer to personally bring me a copy of her book after she drops her boy off at school in the morning! Such a light being!! I think that might have to be my new favorite comment... rather than, "oh she is such a doll," I'm going to say, "oh she is such a beautiful-little-light-being!" (http://www.malika.com.za/)

The Violet Moon

By Ilana Slomowitz

The moon drags her violet veil

into the jewelled night,

her sail gently brushed

with strokes of pastel light.

Silent, still, she slides

into suspended bliss,

floating gold in mystic blue

mixed so fine to violet hue.

Sparks ignite, and twinkling bright,

transform the ink black night.

Visible the dancing shapes

that set the night alight.

Jewelled sky’s now fading light,

dawn cracks fresh with dew

The moon still trails her violet veil,

then, in a breath, takes flight.

Another Cape Town artist that I has fallen into my life since my arrival in Cape Town is Ilana Slomowitz. Ilana is an award winning ceramic muralist, artist, and dancer who's ability to spin words has grabbed my heart. I just now discovered one of her poems about the moon... which of course hits a high note for me! (http://www.ilana-slomowitz.com/)

Open Happiness

Every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake I am constantly reminded to “open happiness” by the vibrant Coca Cola billboard outside my bedroom window. How fitting it seems that I should make my way all the way to Cape Town to be reminded on a daily basis by a 30 foot can of coke to open up my happiness. The billboard is of course one of the many remnants the world cup left behind in its wake; the coke bottle itself is exploding with colorful soccer balls, stars, peace signs, music notes and vuvuzelas.  It’s funny though, a bottle of coke.. no matter how huge or how South African it may appear (decked out in its world cup gear) will always remind me of Chattanooga.

The last few days I have been seriously out of commission and a slave to my room, hot baths, liquids, and movies.  The wonderful news is that there is a place called Mr. Delivery in Cape Town that was kind enough to deliver me two orders of Tom Kha Gai soup and an order of white rice straight to my doorstep late one night this week.  With the love and care of my amazing roommate, my wonderful girls here in Cape Town and a little hot soup I am on the quick road to recovery.  It’s almost funny though… nothing that I can think of about being sick makes me happy but even as I sit here in bed right now the lights of that open happiness sign literally glare at me through my window. It’s good though. I love my billboard. It reminds me now and again when I look out the window to open happiness in one way or another... even if it’s just a bowl of my favorite soup or a conversation with wonderful friends late into the night. Oh coke… always spreading the joy.

Every day at work I feel blessed to be given the opportunity to put in just a little bit of happiness into the lives of the children that I work with. If only they knew how much happiness they brought into my life!! Take bubbles for example, it is simply amazing to me the power of bubbles. I promise I know I sound like I’ve totally lost it to all of you who don’t get to hang out with 3 year olds everyday! But I’m serious… bubbles are like magic here. You walk into a room of screaming, crying children and begin to blow bubbles and if you’re lucky they might for just one moment be able to forget that they are in a hospital, or hooked up to a machine, or hungry, or in pain and remember that they are still just a little kid.  Oh bubbles… always spreading happiness!

So thanks Coke people wherever you are... for the delicious cane sugar Coca Colas down here and for the constant bright red reminder outside my window... I’ll try my best to look up, listen up and then try to open up a little bit of happiness today be it within myself or those around me

With Love

I cry out into the night, bitter thoughts they choke my mind... sometimes I feel so all alone, lost and helpless hurt and blind. Restless sleep comes over me and a golden light appears... the voice of music speaks to me, but not into my earthly ears. It says, "lay down, rest your soul, the universe around you rings, I have come to take you home, bear you up on angel wings." Up we go into the night...

Often in my life I have found that the days seem to march by so quickly without my notice or reverence to the date or time or day of the week that they are gone long before we can stop to say hello. This summer in particular the days and the time seemed to disappear from right under my feet... after each month I couldn't seem to recall where the days had gone or how we had moved so quickly onto the next month. The numbers on the pages of my calendar seemed to fly by so quickly that I could never seem to keep up. Today however, forces me to pause and take a long deep breath…remembering the moment, remembering the day, remembering the date. Here in South Africa more than ever I am reminded to pause more often in my life. I seek to take more deep breaths in… to take the time to breathe in the beauty of each day we have here in this miraculous place.

In a seven day period we lost two children on the Oncology/Hematology ward (G1). On Wednesday the 1st of September, the first day of spring, one of my boys passed away in the night. Just a week later another girl passed away early on the morning of 8th. In the short time that I have been at the Red Cross, I have learned more about the importance of family than almost anything else. I am reminded daily of the importance of love here. The children, the mothers and the staff on each ward create their own family here… one mother told me that she arrived alone and afraid but in time has come to realize that she is not alone but rather surrounded by the love and compassion of those around her. In reflection of the most recent passing and her time on the ward another mother said, “I know that he is looking down at us right now and smiling. He will watch over us all from now on. As time passes me by I have been shown a whole new world which I never knew existed. This is a life experience which no one else can share with you outside of the ward. We have met new people and become a family. The only concern I have now is going back home.”

The mothers here wander from room to room and bed to bed, taking on the children who are alone or upset as their own. Sometimes I must say it has been hard for me to even figure out which mother belongs to which child… but that in itself is the beauty of it. The children here have an unbreakable community of mothers watching over them every day while they play and every night while they sleep. The mothers have an unbreakable community of sisters to lean on in times of loss and pain.


When I first arrived at the Red Cross I was startled to see that on each ward there were rooms filled with at least two but often six children or more. Only when a child is placed in isolation are they given their own room. At first the laundry list of reasons why this could be considered horrible treatment runs through your mind, sanitation and privacy being at the beginning of that list. Beyond those though there seem to be countless reasons why you just can’t or rather why you just don't simply lump a whole group of children that are ill in one room. Why can't they see that? But then again who are they? Who am I? Coming from the states... with my western mindset so deeply instilled in me... sanitation and privacy seem to be number one and number two on my list. But then again, not every hospital has the support, money, or funding required to provide services such as private rooms for every child in the hospital. That extra funding is simply not available here. But from this lack of privacy, that lack of isolation grows an intricate web of relationships possible only because of the structure of the hospital. Because the families are all together, mothers and children alike are able to create these bonds of friendship with each other; they are able to become a support base for one another even if they are only five years old.


"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember, you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think, but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. I’ll always be with you.” -Winnie The Pooh

"At the beginning... "

...We were strangers, starting out on a journey, never dreaming what we'd have to go through, now here we are and I'm suddenly standing, at the beginning with you..." -Richard Marx

After an early morning departure from Chattanooga and a 26 hour flight from Atlanta to DC to Johannesburg to Cape Town I finally found my way to Cape Town Backpackers Hostel in heart of downtown Cape Town late into the night on the 17th. Within moments of my arrival, Rachel came bounding down the steps of the hostel screaming my name… I must say it was the best welcome to Cape Town I could have ever imagined! The next morning we rented a car bright and early and left for the infamous Garden Route up the Eastern Cape.

It took a little time to get used to driving on the left side of the road and on the right side of the car... but the most difficult part was simply keeping track of where the windshield wipers and turn blinkers lived and getting around all the round-abouts on the left side of the road. We had doubled in size and by late that evening the four of us (Rach, Molly, Ian and I) had made our way past Mossel Bay, George, and Plettenberg Bay, and into Storms River… our final destination for the evening. We just barely made it inside the hostel when the South African rains began to pound down from the heavens

The next afternoon, we made our way to Tsitsikamma National Park for a day of hiking and beach exploring after a morning of bungee jumping (for the two brave ones). Then after a quick drive through St. Francis Bay we made our way into Jeffrey’s Bay to Island Vibe hostel for the evening. Two lazy, relaxing, long days of cold windy hammock time by the beach later, we began our way back home again. On Saturday we peeled ourselves away from Jeffrey's Bay and wound our way back down to Cape Town along the ever changing Garden Route. Sometimes the road looked more like a slice right out of Ireland… nothing like what you would ever begin to picture from a field in South Africa. The two lane roads curled up and down through mountain cliffs along the ocean and then past rolling green fields filled with yellow flower patches so large you could get lost in them. But of course... just when I was begining to doubt that I had actually made it back to South Africa … a few monster baboons decided to run across the highway… and I realized once and for all that I had actually made it back to the wonderful  and wacky world of South Africa!

After returning to Cape Town it was wine tour time. One very long day, lots of new found friends from around the globe, and four famous South African vineyards later we were filled to the brim with wine, cheese, olives and chocolate... can you ask for a better gluten free day? I think not!!

My life here in Cape Town thus far has consisted of big adventures, lots of new faces and lots of new places. My days have been filled with neverending bubbles with my new friends at the hospital, settling into my new home, napping in my new cozy bed, sleeping in the sun at the  Kirstenbosch Gardens, eating late night braai’s (cook-outs) with new friends, hiking around Table Mountain and Lions head, sitting on the beach at Camps Bay, watching lots of sunsets and rising moons… and of course eating LOTS of earth shatteringly-deliciously-divine food!!