Personal note: My trip to South Africa got me thinking about a lot of things. Firstly, I wasn’t at all sure I would be able to go nor should go on this trip. A year ago when my high school friend, Jeff Coulson and his wife, Betsy asked me to join them biking in South Africa, I was quite excited. Several months after booking the trip I got diagnosed with advanced stage prostate cancer. One of my major questions for the doctors was: “will I be able to bike around South Africa three months after having surgery to remove this thing?” They encouraged me to keep my appointment with Africa. However, as late February drew near, I had second thoughts. Would it be a waste if I couldn’t do all the riding? Would not riding give me a less than complete view of the country? Would I look like a weenie? I concluded that I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from going. I knew that if I didn’t go I would regret it. As it turned out, I was able to do the biking and completely enjoyed myself. It also told me don’t wait around for my end but go out and do what I have always wanted to do. Screw cancer! Please no notes of sympathy. Word of my death is premature.
My recent trip to South Africa began with several days with a wonderful family. My traveling companions, Jeff and Betsy Coulson, had an exchange student live with them back in the late 1980s. That boy is now an accomplished man in KwaZulu Natal in South Africa. He has a family of his own…an extended family. Luthando comes from a very rural town of Indawana up in the hills of Kwazulu Natal. Not only does Luthando have his own children and wife, he has taken in the children of his brother who died of AIDS several years ago, he cares for his employees who run his transport company and he cares for his sisters. We spent three days with Luthando and got to meet all this family, if only briefly. Part of the problem for the briefness of our interaction, was that Luthando and his wife live about three hours apart. Not that they are estranged but out of economic necessity, Luthando lives in the large city of Pietersmaritzburg and his wife lives with some of the children in the village Indawana where she is an elementary school teacher.
Luthando, Jeff Coulson, Nonyaniso, Tebugo, Betsy (Coulson) Evans
Luthando and Nonyaniso with Tebugo
Manchester United 2 – Named after the iconic British Premier League team, this is local soccer/futbol team. These guys play when they can raise enough money to pay the other team. Whichever team wins the match wins the pot. It is one of the ways that men in this community of Indawana can make a living.
Governor John Kasich of Ohio has been getting a lot attention recently from the newspapers of New Hampshire; six of the seven dailies in New Hampshire are endorsing the governor for the GOP nomination. The Boston Globe also has thrown its pages in Kasich’s direction and yesterday, The New York Times joined that band of supporters. Does it matter? Do papers carry the same sway they used to, if they ever did? One thing in the gov’s favor is that newspapers don’t have to respond instantly to every new utterance from a candidate to make a comment or an endorsement. Papers have the luxury of thinking about what they say before they say it. Editorial boards sit around and have discussions about the merits of the various candidates before announcing their support for a particular candidate. Kasich has had the good fortune of coming out on top of those discussions. The voters don’t get their news from the papers as they once did and TV and radio stations aren’t known for endorsing candidates in primaries, not that they don’t tilt the news in one direction or another. When voters actually take the time to do some reflective thinking like newspaper editors, will they bend toward Kasich? We will soon see.
Last week I was having dinner with my son and his boyfriend, Craig when, amazingly, our discussion turned to politics. Craig, an avid Hillary supporter and knowing my heart belongs to Bernie, began making light of and belittling Bernie’s campaign and particularly attacking his hand gestures. Naturally, I took umbrage. Yesterday, my friend Joe and I went to see Bernie in Peterborough, NH, just ten miles down the road. Sitting in the front row we had a clear view of the man and his gestures. Successful politicians often have unique and identifiable gestures: Bill Clinton always laid his thumb in his index finger to make a point, JFK often stuck his hand in his suit coat pocket with the thumb sticking out. Some of these gestures look like they came from campaign consultants rather than a natural inclination of the candidate. Bernie often talks with his hands. While at first one might find his hand motions an interesting trait, one soon realizes that this is Bernie. His hands punctuate his passion about his ideas. No one can question Bernie’s passion about his ideas: income inequality, equal pay for equal work, campaign finance reform, free tuition at public colleges, living wages, addressing climate destruction, medicare for all, healthcare reform, reforming Wall Street…
“One last question” and Ted stepped away from the reporters and stood next to me. The media crowd filed into the hall where there were about 100 people waiting to hear Rafael. I was pleased to see there was room to move around, thus knowing I would probably get some good photos. I positioned myself just outside the kitchen door to get a photo of the candidate coming into the room. There he was poised to tell these people why he should be the next most powerful leader in the world, standing in a camp kitchen in rural New Hampshire. A flood of thoughts came over me. But looking at him, and him looking at me, as I was the first person closest to the door, I was struck by how shy he looked. “Will they like me?” “Will they understand me?” “What am I doing here?” 
He entered the room, waving before he was introduced and then people finally seeing him acknowledged his presence with applause. Ted, smiling awkwardly, entered the room and shook hands with people along the aisle: sort of engaging them, but not really. He doesn’t seem to smile easily and often looks ill-at-ease when he does so. He finally made it to the platform and looked relieved to be there in his domain. 
His opening line: “I am so happy to be here in Washington…New Hampshire rather than Washington DC.” And based on a few chuckles among the gathered Ted launched into his 40 minute talk which sounds a bit like the creation of the world. “On my first day in office I will repeal everyone of President Obama’s illegal executive orders…and reverse the persecution of religious groups (and several other items) and that’s on my first day” “and in coming days, I will…rebuild the military” “and in coming days, I will…ban Common Core…” And on and on it went until the world was made whole again. Once that was accomplished he then took questions from the audience. There were the usual questions one hears…how will you protect our 2nd Amendment rights? how will you protect Christians in other countries who are being persecuted? What will you do to protect our borders?… It was about this time I decided to leave to get to the Trump event. As I was heading out through the parking lot to my car, two police officers smiled as I approached and said, “should we assume that you didn’t like what you were hearing?” “No, I’ve heard it all before.” And with that I was gone.
Mike Munhall Photos 