We duly set off just before 4.30am on a 3-hour drive to the Game Reserve at Pilanersberg, about 180km to the north. The drive gave us plenty of time to chat, and took us past a couple of interesting sites. First came the farm and then the home town of Eugene Terreblanche (is that how to spell his name?) the scary leader of the Afrikaans extreme (ie neo-Nazi) Far Right, who was brutally murdered on his farm earlier this year. I was scandalised to hear from Bishop Stephen that when he had tried to make contact with the minister of the Dutch Reformed Church, to liaise with him over the participiation in the funeral service of the (black) Archbishop of Cape Town, the minister had refused to speak to him. I asked Bishop Stephen, 'Is that because you're an Anglican, or because you're black?' 'Oh, I think he would have spoken to a white Anglican' was the reply. How could a minister of the Gospel of Christ Jesus be so blind?
Later, we drove through Rustenberg, the ill-fated base of the England football team during the recent World Cup Finals. The road took us past not only their training camp, but also the stadium in which the team notoriously drew 1-1 with the USA in our opening game -- a result which, in retrospect, pretty much determined the outcome of our tournament. I didn’t bother to take pictures.
One of the topics of conversation on the journey was about the new African Churches (many based in Nigeria apparently -- which has, as a whole I think, a somewhat dubious reputation in black South Africa). These are predominantly ‘pentecostal’ in style and often preach what we call a ‘prosperity gospel’: come to Jesus and he will make you well and rich. It distresses Bishop Stephen immensely. ‘How can they lie to these people?’, he asks. ‘The only ones who get rich are the pastors’.
We also talked a bit more about the challenge the government faces in providing adequate housing in the townships. Bishop Stephen pointed out that it’s not straightforward. When a scheme gets underway in a new place, hordes of migrant communities descend on it so that demand utterly outstrips supply. Or a family of 16, say, occupying a single shack will be provided with a house. But only 8 will move into the house. A year or two later, the remaining 8 will clamour for a house. I was aware that while some shacks lack windows, electricy and running water, others do not… what I had not noticed until Bishop Stephen pointed it out to me, is that many have television aerials and some even have satellite dishes.
We got to the game park at about 7.30am. It’s vast, like so much else in this extraordinary country. Pilanersberg is one of the most compact reserves in South Africa, but it must be the size of an English county. It’s certainly big enough to mean there is no restriction in the animals natural habitat. They are utterly free to roam and to establish their ‘wild’ state. The reserve is served by a network of tracks, and we drove around these for 7 hours, stopping
at the roadside when there were spectacular sights to see, and at a penned facilities area for lunch (where this strange bird kept us company), as well as at a couple of penned hides. (Outside the penned areas, drivers are repeated warned not to get out of their vehicles. Each year there are stories about casualties, usually because the person who is savaged was desperate either to relieve themselves, or to get that perfect snapshot.) The big cats (cheetah, leopard and lion) are notoriously shy and we didn’t see them. But we saw plenty: elephants, rhinos, hippos, giraffes, zebras, wildebeest, jackals and a hyena. Sometimes, we found them right at th
e roadside. Drivers were very helpful to one another, tipping each other off about what could be seen where. It was exhilarating and the time sped by. I didn’t resent the hours in the car one little bit, and was still scanning the grass keenly looking for that elusive lion as we headed for the exit.The journey back was almost without incident, which is just as well because I was behind the steering wheel. After 10 hours behind the wheel of the car, with almost no break, Bishop Stephen was ready for a breather and asked me to drive. I say almost without incident: there was one hairy moment. It was a diesel car, and at one point I misjudged an overtaking manoeuvre. The acceleration was more sluggish than I am used to and on one occasion when I pulled out to pass a truck, with a gap to an oncoming car which I was confident was sufficient, I couldn’t generate enough speed to get by and had to pull hurriedly back onto my own side of the road, behind the truck I’d been trying to pass. The adrenalin surge certainly ensured I stayed wide awake for the rest of the trip, even if Bishop Stephen felt safe enough to snooze!
When we got back, I was able to take the family out for a burger-meal as a thank you. Their hospitality has been an inspiration to me. The cheerful way in which the whole family, in the midst of very many challenges, has opened the home to me is a lovely reminder of what the Christian gospel is ultimately about: relationships restored to wholeness, through our shared participation in Christ Jesus. I shall miss them.
We were also encouraged by news coverage which suggests that the government may be about to make a new offer, to bring about a resolution to the general strike. That would be such a relief to the people I've met. And frankly, I'd feel a bit safer on the last leg of my trip if I knew there were police on active service!
This was my last day with Bishop Stephen, who has generously devoted pretty much the whole of the last three days to facilitating my visit personally. He’s an exceptional man and I pray his ministry will prosper.
Tomorrow I leave Matlosane at the end of the second leg of my visit. The remaining 3-4 days, before my evening flight on Friday, are leg 3: leisure time. My intention is to hire a car here in Klerksdorp and to drive north and east towards the Kruger National Park. I’m determined to see those shy lions!
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