Good evening fellow SAWIPers of the class of 2009, our present members of the board of directors, our special guests  who are the much valued friends of SAWIP, and a special greeting to the Ambasador Mr Wrafter and Mrs Wrafter. Thank you Ambassodor for allowing us to use your place for SAWIP catch-up purposes as we SAWIPers meet for the first time since our return, restaurants are far too expensive in these times!
Ambassordor I’m sure you must be convinced that you are seeing this face for the first time, which is true, as I was not here the first time. But to make up for it I shall share a bit of my experience in Washington over the six weeks we spent there.

I am Musawenkosi Nxele, of the tribe of the mighty SAWIPers 2009, son to Mr and Mrs Dave Eason, and brother to Desmond Loy. I only found out about this in Washington, so you can imagine how personal an experience it was for me.

My journey to Washington would in retrospect prove itself to be sharply transcending to me, to have surpassed my dreams. My universe, which was limited to South Africa, grew incredibly bigger, and I realise the sea does not lie for when you look at it, it is never ending. Now I always end it right there at the shore, where I can clearly feel the soul beneath my feet, and never attempt to get into the water. But then came SAWIP which affirmed me as part of its tribe, justified me my reason for not going into the water, and the solution was to fly across the seas, and they payed my ticket fair for it.

Much happened in Washington, but the true Washington experience that happened was within me. It came through my observations as I walked the streets there, the diverse people travelling  the streets, the voices of those people, and dinners with Terry and Dave, my best cooking parents. Here I was, given an opportunity to grow as a leader. And on my first day going to my internship at the World Bank, I remember walking alone for the first time in the streets of Washington, and it took just a thought from where I come from, and I had to compose myself from bursting out of myself. I was probably lost on my way there, as I often times got lost around Washington, until I found out that the white guys are good in maps and I hooked up with Petrus. But I was at a focal point where worlds apart met. I was South Africa, in Washington, going to the world bank. I felt significant, wearing my grey suit and brown shoes, I felt an awkward feeling like I was Martin Luther King, an advocate of a people that were marginalised, the people of Africa, and with that feeling I concluded that will walk into the World Bank with all tenacity and demand change for my people in Africa! Well, maybe it didn’t work out like that after all, maybe not the way I thought it would.

We were soon to find out as SAWIPers that we were not on holiday. We were challenged beyond our reservations, our comfort zones, and often times we had to venture into the unknown. We had to stand in front of people and speak who we are, of whom we bring our greetings from, and what we wanted. “what did we want?”. It was one thing to speak about where we’re from, but what was it that we wanted. To me that separated us from tourists who came to view the many wonderful monuments of Washington. I was afraid of going through the experience without discovering that, I was afraid that I will go back to South Africa and speak it into good-old memories, and continue with life as usual. Mr Ambassodor the truth is that I was often frustrated while I was there. I had a sense of urgency to discover the true purpose why I was there.

I was afraid that the repeat of the famous story of the twelve leaders of the 12 tribes of Israel being sent into a land of plenty may repeat itself over me. For those leaders got into the land, and being from a desert, they saw the grape vines in this land of plenty but there were also giants there protecting the land. 10 of the leaders came back speaking about the wonderful land it was, and the grape vines, but when it came to going and possessing the land the 10 said no! There are giants in the land, and we were like grasshoppers to them, and so were we in our own eyes. Only the two leaders came back with a winning mentality. SAWIP also had 12 leaders representing each tribe, and we sent to the land of plenty. I did not want to come back and tell of the wonders of Washington and that’s it. I did not want to be like a grasshopper, because a grasshopper lives where it looks the same with its surrounding; a green one stays around plants… it blends in. And grasshoppers, even though they can come close to the vine, even though they can smell it, can talk about it, grasshoppers, don’t eat grapes. Why was I in Washington?

When Jean asked me last Friday to speak here, I just thought of the work I had and I wanted to say “absolutely impossible”. But she mentioned something very close to me that that concluded the matter beyond all rationality. She said I can share about my experience with living with an Irish brother. I will rephrase that and say “my experience of finding that I have an Irish brother”. That spoke to me, for my experience of spending time with Desmond was to me a story immortal, a surpassing type narration, a romantic story.

We had nights where we spoke deeply about our experiences of where we come from, of the complex and vexed issues that have been inherent in our countries for many years. I could not understand why Ireland was at war, what was it about the division between the Catholic and the Protestant?, whereas everyone was literally of the same brotherhood. But symmetrically it was like that to Desmond, what was the cause of division in South Africa between black and white? Could skin really be that dividing? Me and Des sat and watched a U-tube clip that showed the Zulu King Shaka Zulu, presenting his genius of a new revolutionary strategy of fighting, and it became apparent to Des that since I’m Zulu I’m a dangerous man. But Des left me with treasure, because we realised that the issues that have caused conflict in our countries have underlying cords of complexity, and Des said that what we lack is understanding. We quarrel because we lack understanding.

To prove how romantic a story this is, I will share a snippet of a letter Des wrote to me dated 17 August:
Musa, Lauren (his girlfriend) was so god damn sick of hearing about you by the end of it, seriously she gave me a black eye on the second last night, purely out of rage because I was incessantly referencing you every other sentence. I have never said the words “Musawenkosi Nxele” so often in all my life!
Hope all is well back in Cape Town man, missing you and your threats of violence whilst I innocently sleep. I actually got my little brother to kick me in the stomach whilst I slept last night, just so it felt like you were near”

On the last day at the airport a friend of mine, Edwina, came and gave me a book titled “if you want to walk on water, you’ve got to get out of the boat!” It all summed up! Flying over the seas was not SAWIP’s solution for avoiding the water, as I thought was suggestion; that was a matter of convenience. But we had to constantly step out of our comfort zones, whether be it the shore or the boat. We were unapologetically challenged as leaders. Not only for then but here, here in South Africa, and we proved that we were able to step out of our comfort zones. So I misunderstood at first, SAWIP is for water walkers:

Samantha Ball, you are a water walker,
Ayanda Gladile, you are a water walker,
Nadine Moodie, you are a water walker,
Nic Crosby, you are a water walker,
Sabelo Mcinziba, you are a water walker,
Ziyanda Stuurman, you are a water walker,
Fazlin Fransman, you are a water walker,
Vivek Ramsoop, you are a water walker,
Lebusa Meso, you are a water walker,
Emma Margets (in her absence) is water walker,
Petrus van Niekerk, you are a water walker,
 I am a water walker.

It takes a leap of faith. But that’s SAWIP, for the people of South Africa and the world.
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr and Mrs Ambassodor, I thank you.