by Anita Mendiratta | Apr 27, 2014
This April, two different nations once written off as risks, and with reputations for one single thing – heartbreaking, lawbreaking acts to ones own – marked two decades of progress, unity and hope in a way that can only be described by one word: ‘heroic‘.
April 07th, 2014 – RWANDA: 20 years since the beginning of the most horrific time in the nation’s lifetime, costing the lives of over 800,000 Rwandans. Millions of Rwandans were left homeless with shattered spirits as the world stood shamed for inaction. Today, 20 years on, the nation pauses to remember, to forgive, to learn, to move on. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOGWikDkjjQ&feature=youtu.be
April 27th, 2014 – SOUTH AFRICA: 20 years since the day all South Africans were able to stand together in voting lines, choosing for the first time their first black President, taking the first steps as a rainbow nation colourblind to face and race. Two decades on, the nation sees and feels the vividness and value of its rainbow bands of colour. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSKZMRg9dXA
While different occasions days apart, they shared one powerful force: pride. Pride in progress. Pride in possibility. Pride in unified commitment to keep moving forward, never ever going back. Pride in new identity.
In a world suffering from bruising of balance sheets, belief in leadership, short-range vision and lethargy of citizen participation, these two nations stand tall as active, tireless examples of nationals working for their better tomorrow, feeling able to feel the benefits of their playing their part.
Have there been challenges, upsets, disappointments, frustrations? Of course. But these have been part of the work in progress journey, collectively, with shared focus on what can be, not what was, or is.
The 20 years of days now passed are not reflected upon with fleeting, passing thought.
Instead words on the milestone dates reflect pauses of heart, tearful eyes remember life changing moments in their peak of emotion. On one hand, lines of panicked refugees fleeing horrors and loss, unable to think of a future. On the other, lines of patient voters waiting to have their finger dipped in ink as they have their say, unable to think of anything but the future.
Today, two decades on these two nations, once broken and now often referred to as ‘miracles‘, are two remarkable representations of nation rebuilding through activation of a nation’s richest resource: the spirit of hope within its people.
Copyright: ANITA MENDIRATTA 2014
by Anita Mendiratta | Mar 26, 2014
MH 370
Less than three weeks ago, it was a flight code with top of mind awareness for only a small population of mostly airline, airport and air traffic control professionals.
Today, and forever in the history books of our times, it represents a globally memorized code for a tragedy that has defied all logic, all experience, all theories, all hopes.
So too the date of March 24th. For on this day the code MH370 became scratched into the panicked hearts of those desperately waiting for news of the 239 passengers that they knew as their loved ones. The words of Malaysian officials extinguished all flickering hopes for a happy ending. While so much remained unclear, what was certain was that 239 souls were lost somewhere in the rough, expansive seas of the southern Indian Ocean.
Whether directly or indirectly, whether known by name and smile or simply as a flight manifest profile, the loss of the 239 lives linked of MH370 weigh heavily on the hearts and minds of hundreds of millions of people across the globe – one global community united by shock.
How could is have happened?
What actually happened?
And why?
Working as one united force, a reported 26 countries from all corners of the world remain focused on the search for the missing aircraft, 6 nations actively participating in sea and air operations. Countless number of agencies, networks, funds and prayers are being channelled towards the hunt for wreckage, and answers. Unlimited resources have been pledged towards the search, underlined with commitments to “do whatever it takes” to find the remains of MH370. Because the world needs to find the lost 239 souls so that they can be returned home, and, somehow, the healing can begin.
And the world needs the understanding.
From a global aviation perspective, the tragedy of MH370 has been called many things. ‘Unprecedented’, ‘unimaginable’, ‘unfathomable‘. An aircraft does not simply disappear. Not in today’s day and age when we are hyper-connected each and every moment by technology than transcends otherwise natural barriers of geography, economy, and even ideology.
And yet, through the loss of communications and tracking connection to MH370, a profound connection has been established: a remarkably powerful and purposeful connection across the global aviation community, governments, and the media, with one single mission. Find MH370.
Putting corporate logos, flags, and foreign policy issues aside, the greater the count of days missing grew, so too grew the count of leaders, agencies, and other specialists entities coming on board to find MH370 across a search area of 2.24m sq nautical miles, now narrowed to 469,407 sq nautical miles. As poignantly expressed by Mark Binskin, vice chief of the Australian Defence Force, “We’re not searching for a needle in a haystack. “We’re still trying to define where the haystack is.” Determination, collaboration and prayer became and remain the modus operandi. Humanity has become the compass. The search for survivors and answers has not been about credit or conditions of cooperation, nor has it been about cost or casting blame. MH370 has inspired a new way of connecting the skies, and now seas. The ill fated aircraft has become a symbol of so much more – a symbol uniting those working, those grieving, and those watching on, as one.
For followers of the mystery of MH370, the ongoing search for clues regarding the whereabouts of the missing aircraft has exposed the depths of expertise at work in the aviation sector. From experts first operating trying to track theories in regional air spaces, to those now ready to battle the depths of some of the most hostile of the earth’s open waters, for those following the story from across the globe, the learning curve regarding global aviation systems has been as dramatic as the now predicted curve of the flight path of Malaysian carrier. Appreciation for just what it takes to bring an airplane full of passengers home, safely and smoothly, each time a flight takes off from an airport somewhere in the world, has grown.
As the spirit of MH370 permeates the hearts and minds of the world’s travelling community, for the over 3 billion air passengers estimated by IATA to fly in 2014 in this the 100th anniversary of commercial flight, looking out the airplane window at 35,000 ft will not be without a more sensitive, thoughtful, sense of wonder and wondering.
And more now than in times before, the captain’s in-flight request to ‘please fasten your seat belts’ will be taken just that little bit more seriously.
Copyright: ANITA MENDIRATTA 2014
by Anita Mendiratta | Feb 28, 2014
It happens almost every time. Until the last days of the countdown, the air and airwaves are filled with questions. Sochi was no exception.
Even into the single-digit countdown to the commencement of the 2014 Olympic Winter Games, more bets were on failure than success. There were fears, there were furious protests. There were budget frowns, and there were natural teething fumbles with infrastructure. There were invisible rings, and there were incredible rounds of critique around R.O.I. And all around it, there was the ring of steel, trying to keep Sochi safely out of the global headlines for all the wrong reasons.
And somewhere, lost in it all, was the athletes.
Arriving with years of training, praying and whole-hearted hope tucked tightly in their luggage and bags of precious sporting gear, the athletes make their way to their temporary sporting home – the Athlete’s Village, soon towards the most important sporting stage of their lives, and maybe, just maybe, to the sacred steps of the medal winner’s podium. Whether it is the Olympic Games, the FIFA World Cup, whatever the meg-event may be, the intensity of training and personal passion can never be underestimated. For the athletes, this is it – this is the moment they have waited for their entire life. Wearing the colour of their flag, their home, the blessing and burden of ambassadorship on their shoulders and hearts, they come, ready to perform, ready to turn their dreams into a reality.
And yet, over and over, event after event, the athletes become swallowed up by the waves of unfortunate doubt and debate, waves that robbed the event’s build up in excitement, energy and unity, as they so deserved. It happened in Sochi, as it did South Africa in 2010, and in London in 2012, and it will no doubt happen in Rio.
And then suddenly the shift occurred.
As the Olympic cauldron began to glow with the heat of the flame and passionate quests for gold, the spirit of the games, the true spirit of the Olympic Games, was unlocked. From the ski slopes to the catwalks, it was all about all things Russian. Suddenly Sochi was sexy. And Sochi was safe, secure, full of the awe and addictive competitive watching that makes mega-events so must-see. Mother Nature, the global media and all managing to be in sport’s momentary centre of the universe made sure the world was watching in envy and in full support.
As the curtain fell on the 2014 Winter Olympic Games, with the host nation showing its sense of pride, and sense of humour, in its final showcase of why Russia was the ultimate winner of gold at these Games, as was reported by journalists covering the spectacle, initial fears and concerns, challenges and chirps, all seemed “a distant memory”.
Sochi, and Russia, did it.
And now it is time to celebrate the world’s winter Paralympics as they take to the Sochi sporting stage. Following that, it will be Russia’s chance to host F1 from October 2014 until 2020. And in 2018, FIFA will bring the World Cup to Russian shores and football fields.
Not to mention all that is ahead for Rio and Brasil as they host the 2014 FIFA World Cup and then 2018 Olympic and Paralympic Games. And Qatar as they prepare for the 2022 FIFA World Cup.
In all cases, in all mega-events, the marathon efforts made by the organising committees prove, time and again, to be the greatest challenges, and greatest sources of pride, of their careers. Not to mention the lifelong quest of the athletes.
Which begs the question: why does it take the watching world so long to switch on the spirit of the event?
Why, only in the last days and hours, is the spirit unlocked? And the focus of the event – the world’s best athletes – deprived of global support until the finish line of the event’s start is in short-range sight.
Why is the spirit of the moment left to the last moment?
As with the supreme athletes and organisers that take part in making mega-events such global sensations, audiences worldwide must find it within themselves to dig deep, believe in the impossible, mute nay-sayers, and do what it takes to turn dreams into reality. The venues and essential infrastructure are the responsibility of the organising committee. The medals are the responsibility of the athletes.
But it does not end there. The release valve of mega-event spirit is the responsibility of global audiences! And the sooner, the better.
So so much better!!
Copyright: ANITA MENDIRATTA 2014
by Anita Mendiratta | Jan 28, 2014
It is a familiar routine. Arrive at the airport, check in, through security with almost automated response to plastic bins needing feeding with tech toys, to the lounge, boarding gate, board, find seat, sit, ready for take-off. Ready for travel.
We may pass by 10 people, we may pass by several hundred. Sadly the number, they, go unnoticed. And yet we are in the process of travel to go somewhere to meet new people, discover new stories, even feel renewed. It happens, often, naturally. The in-transit white noise. Comfortable, safe, silent, alone, amongst millions.
But every so often the pause button is hit, because a feeling takes over that something more important than the laptop is at work on a flight. Something…if one is still, is open, is patient, and is quiet.
28.01.2014.
Flight number cannot-recall for the year thus far even though the new year is still ‘new’.
Flight A to B en route to C. Plane is boarded, seat is found, 4F, and someone is in the seat. A gentle, common question is extended “excuse me, what seat are you in?”
4E
Ah…that is 4F. 4E is here.
A pause, and offer.
“But if you would like to sit there that is fine.”
It is a familiar conversation of travellers. The response, however, was not.
“No, I am 82. The older you get the less you like window seats.”
Quick swap. Sorted. Ready for 2hrs of work at 35k.
As soon as permitted to open electronic devices, laptop is at the ready. And so, within eyeline and arms reach, is the inflight magazine featuring a tribute to the late President Mandela. He was 95…4E is 82…this was all during her lifetime. She lived his long walk. She was there, from the beginning until the end. How did she say ‘goodbye‘?
Wait. There is something at work, and it’s not a PPT document.
“Excuse me, you said you were 82.” A brief though awkward quiet.
Stroking the magazine, “What has this time meant to you?”
She sees the magazine’s elegant cover photo of South Africa’s father, icon, pride, tearful ache.
And so began almost two hrs, full flight duration, of discovery of 4E, a beautiful elderly African woman many would respectfully refer to as Gogo – Grandmother, with hands like soft yet well weathered dark leather, eyes deep pools full of stories that have flowed through her life – some to be shared, some to be stored in silence, and a serenity that projected a comfort in being engaged, or quite happy actually if left alone. She is a teacher. Retired. Yet still ‘participating’ in community projects. Her humility is exposed. Her community work is a 24/7/365 crusade of compassion. She grew up in ‘the struggle’, ‘not knowing anything different’, once a messenger of notes needing to be passed on to advance the cause. She is from Rustenberg. 5 children, grandchildren only recently aware of her own long walk. She grew up thinking that what was was what life was. She knew nothing about politics, it was never about politics. She lived, and lives, a life of courage, a cause. She feels that while she now lives in a ‘new South Africa’, this is no time to sit back and moan, when there are so many that gave so much to her, to others, when even they themselves had nothing, so that her messenger path was clear, her hunger was suppressed, her future was possible.
And, then she shared in a whisper, ‘what others don’t know: Rolihlahla (President Mandela) was my uncle’s best friend. My uncle married his cousin. He was a father to me…” She was there, praying with her family, as President Mandela faced the Rivonia trials, thinking he would face hanging for his charges of treason. However, when he was instead given life in prison, from that point on she knew “After that, nothing could ever make me feel despair”.
How did she make sense of all that happened? Courage, with a curious smile. “Why did God at that time blunt our feelings of danger? I knew God was with me. I could hear his footsteps.”
She speaks not of when she dies…she speaks of ‘if’. Her philosophy is simple: “You don’t achieve anything by looking at yourself.”
The power of the moment was clear. This sharing, this discovery, 4E and 4F, was meant to happen. It was allowed to happen, because the safe, secure, silent bubble of the on-board workspace was broken. And others were let in…and the desire was there to step out.
As travellers, so often we defer our discoveries of new people, new cultures, new stories, to when we reach our ultimate destination. The richest moments may, in fact, be in the journey itself…
The world we seek to discover may actually be sitting in the seat right next to us.
Her name: ‘Grace‘.
Naturally.
Postscript: to the world she is Grace Masuku, amongst other things the South African recipient of the prestigious ‘Presidential Order of the Baobab‘. She is also the blessing of 4E, the in-that-moment nameless woman who took my hand into hers and told me her story…
Copyright: ANITA MENDIRATTA 2014
by Anita Mendiratta | Dec 18, 2013
December 05th, 2013. Midnight, South Africa time. It will forever be a day when people across the world will remember exactly where they were, what they were doing, when they heard the news: President Nelson Mandela has died. 20:59, at home, with family by his side, at the age of 95.
We always knew the announcement would come in the middle of the night.
In a single moment the world was united, in text and email messages spreading the news, in tears expressing the ache. As stated by Christiane Amanpour, “it was a moment all South Africans were dreading.” It was a moment the world was dreading. Heads of state, heads of corporations, heads of news agencies. heads of households, the heads of people of South African and across the world, all dropped in sadness.
For many, the shock could not be articulated. They cried, unsure of why exactly they were crying. Tears simply falling… Grieving was felt deeply, for oneself, for others grieving.
Something monumental had been lost, something that brought a sense of security, faith, hope, discipline, meaning, even identity, was gone.
This was more than merely the passing of a politician, a figure of nearly a century’s worth of activism. This was the loss of a leader of universal love, respect, example and hope. A loss for every individual on earth who believed in the power of believing in something better, in the power of one, in the power of the possible.
For 10 days, South Africa was held in a state of emotional ache, the official 10 day grieving period unfolding with events that embraced all South Africans, and enthralled the millions upon millions of onlookers from across the globe. There was only one story. He is gone.
And yet, through all of the sense of loss, from the immediate moment of announcement of the passing of President Mandela, as stories were shared of the life of the father of the nation, the South African miracle was reawakened. South Africans and the world were reminded of, and re-inspired by, the miracle of South Africa’s political process, and of South Africans who, to this day, continue to work to live the legacy of the nation’s father, hero, compass. Sadness and celebration became a unifying cocktail, creating a spirit at home “like during the (2010 FIFA) World Cup” as one South African said reflecting on days just past. It felt good to be a South African, a child of Madiba. It felt good to feel pride, hope and appreciation again. It felt good to focus on the positive. It felt good to be inspired by an ideal.
In a way, it felt, feels, as though this reawakening of the spirit of South Africans was, in his final moments, Madiba’s parting gift to his people.
And now, as he rests in his ancestral home, amongst the aloes on the gentle grazing hills that have kept him grounded, reminiscent, yearning, all these years, the candles continue to burn. May they glow with unwavering warmth and determination. May the reminder of the miracle of South Africa, South Africans, keep his children, all 51 million of them, focused forward, with unity and upward focus that allows him to rest in peace, watching in quiet confidence from above.
The spirit of the miracle is awake again. It must not rest.
http://edition.cnn.com/2013/12/16/world/africa/nelson-mandela-home-robyn-curnow/index.html?hpt=hp_c4
