The Passing of an Icon

This past Friday morning, I woke up early and leaned over to see I had received an SMS (text) message at some point during the night. Odd, I thought. I don’t get many SMS messages and I certainly don’t get them when I am asleep. It turned out to be from the Peace Corps and it was a brief statement to let us know that Nelson Mandela has passed away. I couldn’t help but wonder what was in-store in both my shopping town and my village. Shutdowns? Chaos? Vigils?

Wrong on all accounts. Since I was making my way from a local lodge back to my village that Friday morning, I was going to need to catch a few taxis and pass through town. As I walked along the road to catch the first taxi, I could not identify anything that would point to transport being any different for the day. Minibus taxis seemed to be up and running as usual. When I got on the first taxi, I noted that the driver had the radio tuned to a local news station that was reporting news about Mandela’s death, but no one seemed to be paying much attention. Since I had to go through town to get back home, I had a chance to walk around and see if anything was up. Nope. It could have been any other day. The post office was fully operational – and by that I mean they were as slow as ever in finding the five packages that were waiting for me. Stores and shops were all open for business and people were queuing up for purchases. I almost wondered if there had been some error and that the news had not been delivered. As I sat at the rank and waited for my next taxi to fill, I heard people mention his death without much excitement, but it confirmed the information was out there; it was simply not a big deal. When I got to school later that morning (after stopping at home to drop off all the great stuff from the mail), I briefly spoke to my principal about his passing. She shook her head and said that a great man had died. And that was it. When I asked what she thought would happen next, she simply said, “nothing.” In fact, she went on to say that she believed he may have been dead for a while and his family was just waiting for the right time to make the announcement. Unlikely, although certainly an interesting theory. Otherwise, she did not see any major changes happening any time soon in the area, unless there are upsets or surprises in the elections scheduled for next year.

As for the rest of the weekend, I wish I had some amazing story to tell about a local ceremony or function that was held to honor his historic life, but I do not. What I came to realize is that the people in my village certainly think Mandela was a great man and he did great things, but his death was not relevant to their day-to-day lives. Those who have access to a radio listened to the reports and plans for the upcoming memorial service in Soweto and funeral at his birthplace in Qunu, but nothing was planned for our village. I even asked my host family more than once to tell me if I was going to miss something. They said they couldn’t imagine anything happening, but they would let me know if they heard differently.

It is hard for me to say at this point if I am surprised by this reaction. At first I would say I was quite surprised. I, like many volunteers, believed that his passing would be a defining moment in our service, when one of the greatest leaders in the country’s history left the stage – how could it go so unnoticed in the village? But now it does not seem so surprising. The event did not go unnoticed, it was just not recognized with the fanfare and spectacle expected in today’s media. Many of the churches were said to have spoken solely about Mandela at their services yesterday and today, and individuals prayed for him and for the country as a whole. But there was no reason to do more than that. They honored him in a manner that was best for them – quietly and gallantly – the same manner in which Mandela led his life. A fitting tribute indeed.