Two Bits – 4 March 2016

There are times when you have to eat humble pie that it is best to just say nothing, but this time I have to show my appreciation openly.
I say eat humble pie, because for all of my adult life I have paid little heed to churches and church life. At one stage I firmly pushed them away, feeling that I had had enough religion pushed down my throat at school, but over the years that antagonism gradually faded to indifference.
My wife had her own views on the matter, though, and takes a strong and active interest in her church. I have been interested to observe, through her, the positive role the churches have in the community. However the events of the past 10 months have convinced me of the enormous benefit that a church can be to an individual and to the community at large.
Rose was diagnosed with breast cancer last May, a pivotal moment that changed everything from that moment on. Within a few days she underwent surgery and so began a long 10 months of treatment. This meant chemotherapy sessions in Umhlanga every three weeks and then every week between June and December, followed by radiotherapy every day in January and February.
The sessions coincided with my busiest days at work, and she was too nauseous and exhausted to drive herself, so what to do? If there had been no alternative, I guess we would have come up with a plan, but it would have been difficult.
This was when the church sprang into action. From day one, members of her Bible study group prepared meals for us. Every day the doorbell rang and there was a smiling lady standing, dishes of delicious meals in hand. I was quite embarrassed to be showered with such generosity, then I said to myself “Get over it, they’re not doing it for you”. They were doing it for my normally smiling, happy Rose, who was being rewarded for her faith in God and support of her church.
Members of the church were busily organising in the background, so that every therapy day a volunteer arrived to fetch Rose to take her through to Umhlanga, stayed with her for the session and delivered her back home, safe and sound.
Another friend who underwent the same procedure a few years ago, but who is not a churchgoer, tells me how desperately hard it was to handle daily life without a support group. “My husband did what he could, but he was running a business so it was up to me to get on with most of it. I was just so lonely,” she said.
Rose has been so fortunate. She hasn’t been lonely at all. Almost every day somebody has been in touch with her, either a member of her church or a friend outside the church. So while the whole ordeal has been very hard on her, physically and mentally, it would have been ten times worse without the extraordinary support of all those very ordinary church members who so readily offered their love and care. (Rose blythely says that they were being the hands and feet of Jesus.)
And I say thank you, all of you, for your generosity of spirit. Every little thing you did, no matter how random or little, meant a great deal. Just knowing that support was only a phone call away was a great comfort.
We are up in the ‘Berg for a while, for a little break. We take a stroll morning and evening, and every day Rose gains some more strength. Soon she will be her old shining self again, and her Annie Lennox-style hairdo is just right for her.
* * *
Thank goodness for the lighter side of life. I mean, what can you say about our minister of defence? In case you missed the news, Minister Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula says the air force has no planes to train new pilots in, because “the old pilots” (i.e. the white, apartheid ones) stole them.
“We have a problem,” she said in response to a question to the National Council of Provinces (NCOP) on why SAAF pilots were being sent to Russia and Cuba to train.
“We can’t give them those flying hours because there are no aircraft.
“I tell you that some of the aircraft were taken by some of the people who left the Air Force and they belong to them in their museum.
“Actually it started ages ago and some of the people stole some of the assets of the people and left with them. So when you talk about shortages it has to do with the fact that some of the assets were stolen.”
You can just picture those old Defence Force pilots, sneaking through customs on their way to America or Australia with a Cheetah or a Mirage hidden in their baggage. Or even more sneakily, hiding them in museums!
Luckily for Minister Mapisa-Nqakula, there are a number of patriotic South Africans out there who have been enthusiastically searching for the missing air force. They have been sending photos to Facebook of apparently abandoned or hidden planes in America, Africa, towns in Russia – you name it. “I’ve found another one!” they exclaim, proudly posting a pic of an Ilyushin or B52 bomber or Piper Cub.
Not to be outdone, our navy also managed to get into the lighter side of the news last week. In the middle of a long film about navy manoeuvres at Port Elizabeth, SABC TV screened an interview with a navy commander who was asked to explain the role of the submarines we have. Those that are still seaworthy, I suppose.
“You cannot take the risk of people going into the sea or rivers where there are sharks. They (submarines) are to defend against that,” he said, in all seriousness.
Pull up the shark nets, lads, and leave it to the Navy!
* * *
Fred was in his early 60s, retired and had started a second career in catering. However, he just couldn’t seem to get to work on time. Every day he was a few minutes late. However, he was a good worker, really clever, so the owner was in a quandary about how to deal with it. Finally, one day he called Fred into the office for a talk.
“Fred, I have to tell you, I like your work ethic, you do a top class job, but you’re being late so often is quite a worry.”
“Yes, I realise that, sir, and I am working on it,” replied Fred.
“I’m pleased to hear that, you are a team player. It’s odd though, you coming in late. I know you’re retired from the Navy. What did they say if you came in late there?”
“They said, ‘Good morning, Admiral’.”