Love Itself Has Rest - São Paulo

Photo credit: www.brazilafrica.com

Yesterday, I decided that I had to sign the condolence book for Nelson Mandela. In the middle of a massive heatwave, terrible traffic and a to-do list that spans two pages, I had to go to Avenida Paulista and the South Africa consulate.  

Why is it important to me? Because I have no other way of expressing how important Nelson Mandela's life was to me and how I try to think differently because of who he was. A man who could forgive 27 years of imprisonment in order to avoid a certain civil war. A man who said that revenge would not help the country, and that black and white must work together.  

Personally I think we can all learn lessons from him. Acceptance, forgiveness, color-blindness, hope. Politicians can learn, parents can learn, everyone can learn. Last night I read the children's version of A Long Walk to Freedom to one of my kids, and I realized with happiness that the idea of separation by color was confusing and bizarre to him. As I've said, he's in classes with South Africans every day. He sees color but only as a descriptor, not as a classifier. 

I took the metro from Vila Madalena to Avenida Paulista. I popped up from the underground in front of the MASP art museum and its accompanying hippie jewelry sellers and their accompanying Military Police watchmen. I strolled towards the enormous Christmas decorations where I imagined Santa sweating it out in his big red suit, and into a non-descript office building which houses the South Africa consulate as well as Switzerland's (I know this only because I ran into the consul-general at a party).  

In the lobby, a small sign, candle and photo announce that the condolences book is up on the 12th floor. As I stood there, a group came by and looked at it and exclaimed "wow, the South Africa consulate is here?" No concrete barriers, US style.

A quick security check (NOTHING like the US consulate where I swear they would cavity search if they could, and forget taking your phone in) and the ancient elevator swept me up to the 12th floor.

It was a quiet place. I rang the bell and was let in to the reception area where a young man was inquiring about whether or not he needed a visa to visit South Africa. The receptionist seemed confused about my visit and asked which embassy I represented. And I said "none" and he said "just a minute." I mentioned that a friend of mine had told me about the book, and that this friend happened to be married to one of the South Africa consulate employees. And this employee came to the door, very friendly and asked if I would like to sign the diplomatic book (there is a separate one) and I said no, I would sign the book of the common man.

So I opened the condolences book and I was shocked to see that there was only one letter there. One. Written by a Brazilian on December 6.  Folks, this is Nelson Mandela, quite possibly the most loved politician to ever walk the earth. I was surprised. I had been fearing a line at the signing--one that would delay my return to my to-do list. No worries. I just hope some more people show up.

As I was writing, the consul-general came out to say hello. I admit that I know her, not only because our kids are in the same class, but because I am a regular at South Africa events.  She gave me two kisses and thanked me for coming. We chatted a bit then I got back to my letter as she had to ring to get someone to let her back into the inner offices. Makes me laugh when I think about how the poor consul-general of the US has to live compared to this-- drivers, security guards, planning. 

So I sat and I told Mr. Mandela that I learned more about forgiveness and love from him than any other leader of people. And I told him that it was time to rest, and I admit that I even quoted my favorite Lord Byron poem. Sure hope Lord Byron didn't pillage Africa two hundred years ago or something--forgot to do my research on that.

Then I closed the book and put down my pen. I buzzed myself out of the South Africa consulate, took the elevator down, and walked out into the hot sunshine. 



For the sword outwears its sheath
And the soul wears out the breast
And the heart must pause to breathe
And love itself have rest

Lord Byron

Profoundly good - São Paulo and South Africa

This morning I was going to write about thunderstorms and power outages--last night a minor thunderstorm knocked out power in our whole neighborhood for six hours. But it turns out that during these hours, the death of one of my heroes was announced to the world, and I missed it because we had no technology working. I read it only this morning and am still sitting here thinking about Nelson Mandela. So excuse the detour while Brazil in My Eyes goes to South Africa. Again.

Nelson Mandela entered my consciousness as a high school kid. "We are the World" was released--and I must have played that record (yes, vinyl!!) a million billion times. I would wait for the moments when Bono appeared on the MTV video (come on! I was a teenybopper!). Then "Sun City" was released, a video I will never forget, and a song that popped into my head when we drove past Sun City this past October. It isn't as well known as the We are the World song, but the video (directed by Jonathan Demme, by the way) is powerful--though the music repetitious. If you have not seen it, here it is:

When I was in college, I was part of the naive group of kids who blocked the college entrance to ask for divestiture. As all kids this age, my self-righteousness far exceeded my understanding of what it all meant. I just knew that Nelson Mandela had been in prison for almost 20 years at that point, and that the riots were about the scariest thing this Connecticut girl had ever seen. 

As any of my blog followers know, I have more recently gotten to know South Africa personally. At the World Cup, on safari, in Johannesburg and Cape Town. I don't know it well but I love it. And I love the South Africans I know--as I've said, the kids' school is the consulate choice in São Paulo and there are five kids from South Africa in the second grade. Soon to be four, as one's family is being recalled to Pretoria next week. The girl that is leaving has the single-best infectious laugh I have ever heard.

I have read several books about Mandela, including his mind-opening, incredible autobiography called A Long Walk to Freedom. His history, determination, patience and more than anything, capacity for forgiveness should leave all of us in awe. Is there another country leader who was ever as powerful for the good? I can't think of one--certainly not in my home country (okay, not in this generation anyway) and not in my adopted country.

Where does South Africa go from here? I don't believe things will spiral down into revenge now that the master of forgiveness is gone. I hope not. It is hard to believe that something called apartheid ever existed, yet of course it did. When do the scars go away? Will they ever? One of the things that has struck me in every one of my three visits to South Africa is how it is the best-kept secret of tourism. A beautiful, diverse, exciting, wonderful place with something for everyone--garden route, wine region, safari, city...it has everything. Except, now, Nelson Mandela.

As my president said last night, "Today he's gone home, and we've lost one of the most influential, courageous and profoundly good human beings that any of us will share time with on this earth." My deepest, heartfelt condolences, South Africa.