The pretty South African woman sitting next to me said our flight from Johannesburg to Port Elizabeth was taking longer than expected, although I hadn’t noticed. I arrived in South Africa only a few hours before. Jet lagged, I was wrestling with the cellophane wrapper guarding the plastic cutlery that came with my in-flight meal.
She told me she was flying to “PE” (what the locals call Port Elizabeth) to attend a luncheon with Bill Clinton, who had flown there earlier that day. As she smoothed her cocktail dress and pushed a loose hair behind her ear, she asked if she could squeeze pass me for a quick exit once the plane touched down.
Having learned Clinton was in town, I wasn’t surprised when we landed and could see emergency vehicles, their lights flashing, parked near the terminal. Cynically, I thought of the money and resources spent in the spirit of good deeds, something I too was guilty of as I flew from the US to South Africa for a conference on violence in the Congo. As if there wasn’t plenty of violence in America I could be addressing.
Full Story @ http://read.socialjusticesolutions.org/dy
#Connection, #Trauma, #Violence