And procrastinating whatever important tasks you might have ahead of you.
So below has been my life since I've been here. Pieces might be missing but I think its pretty comprehensive. If it doesn't make sense, that's because I wrote the majority of this emails during lectures. Oops.
Tomorrow will see my arrival in Manguzi. Below is an email I wrote to Mom a few days ago about what's happening in the next month. Before you read it and everything else I've just posted, know that I'm thinking about all of you. Certain things I see or hear or taste remind me of different people in different ways. I hope ya'll are enjoying yourselves. An Indian security guard told me to "love life" yesterday morning on my run. I think this is the most advice. Love life and live it to the fullest. You only have one.
So now I’ve got a plan! Two nights ago I had a bit of a freak attack because I hadn’t heard from Johriaan and I watched a documentary about a drama troupe’s HIV education attempts with rural kids and the proposal was due and I wanted to change my idea and I had no internet access at the hostel to do research and the girls I live with are grating now nerves and on and on. I went in a big circle to arrive at home-based care again. Attached in my proposal which in light of Johriaan’s suggestions, I may or may not be able to do. Though I think probably I can. By the way, have you looked at TU’s website? www.tuprojects.org They’re sweet.
He says I will be:
Assisting with the orphan care survey-home assessments on all orphans previously assisted by TU.
Referrals between TU and home-based care programs-what works, what doesn’t. My opinions for improvement.
I’m really excited to have some tasks, to have them anticipating me (some girls don’t know if the org. knows they’re coming) and to get out of Durban. High walls and traffic is grating my nerves as are the girls. Walking on the beach is a cure-all except for the walk through traffic to get there and the huge huge hill to climb back! Ha! My calves are certainly strong. Not speaking Zulu is also freaking me out-I’ve been out of Cato and with only whites for a week and my Zulu is slipping. Thank goodness I’m going to a rural area on Wednesday…then I’ll probably be swallowing my words with frustration about communication barriers.
Also-super sweet news. There’s a week between when I return from Manguzi and when we all leave for “closing ceremonies” (St. Lucia/game park/flight). This is when I will frantically write my paper and then reunite with the group to present. During this time (4/27-5/1) everyone will be back and staying in hostels to write. But me…the super fly girl that I am will be staying with Mama Busi again!! I really don’t want another Surf n Dreams bout plus Mama’s will actually be the quietest work place-she’ll be working all day so the house will be quiet for me to work. Plus, I have no desire to hang out with the majority of the girls on this trip. Don’t get me wrong, everyone is really pleasant but everyone is getting antsy to go, we’re all getting sick of high walls and traffic and the annoying owner Margarita that always yells at us for silly things. The space is going to be so nice and though times were sometimes hard with Kelelo, Mama’s house is so much better than materialistic white guys complaining about not getting enough opportunities to go clubbing.
Becs
p.s.
I saw my first Dalmatian yesterday on my run to the beach. 101, no but this one was huge and looked like he could easily rip me up. The owner was smiling though.
I looked on as three friends schooled another three friends in a pickup soccer game. I really wanted to join but the beach was equally enticing and they were really good. Funny details-all 6 were friends and male and in the mid 20s but it was black v white and the black guys were schooling the white guys. And the white guys looked like college frat brothers and were a bit chubby. Very amusing to watch this blond beach bummy-looking dude chase hopelessly after his black counterpart, looking equally beachbummy…amazing footskills had by all. And this random dude who happened to be passing by when the ball rolled his way. Did a rainbow back. Yeah, sure, I’ll just do a rainbow back to ya…perfect aim too. So jealous
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Beaches, Walking for Life, Politics 101
The beach is never boring....
1. I saw Moses. He was black, wore a white robe and had a staff. He walked into the sea but the waves did not part.
2. I saw the Karate Kid all grown up. This 40-50 year old man, wearing a snazzy track suit (mesh tank top and slit shorts) spent the morning kicking the waves crashing over his lower body.
I walked for 7 hours at the CANSA (cancer association of South Africa) Relay for Life. First time its been to SA=super exciting. 101 teams. We volunteered in the parking lot (grass lot). Sad that I didn’t have a neon jacket and a wand. Otherwise it was fantastic, though directing cars will not be my life career. Hehe I have a blister on my toe because I walked the whole thing barefoot.
An Indian security guard told me to “love life” this morning. It was a 5:30am run with the sun coming up and making the clouds slightly pink. It was cool like an early April day that promises to be warm. Durban was still sleeping and the light made soft curves over the Concrete City (my name for this part of Durban. Appropriate because this is what I see). Lights from the port, always busy even at dawn, twinkled at me from my vantage point high above on Ridge Rd.
Scary tidbit: Some background before I begin. I know how much you love my political rants that are crystal clear and always grammatically correct lol-----The national election is 22 April. I’ll be in Manguzi which may be tense because of clashes between ANC (African National Congress and majority party since 1994’s 1st democratic elections(end of apartheid) Currently dealing with lots of scandal-Zuma’s almost got himself out of corruption and money laundering charges; an unlawful release of several prisoners with political ties to ANC, etc, etc) and IFP (Inkata Freedom Party which campaigns on its Zuluness-it’s the “national party” and is a traditional stronghold in KZN which is 99% Zulu. I don’t really know anything about it except for its emphasis on “the tried and true alternative” to ANC. ANC started making in roads in KZN a few years ago and now is duking it out with IFP. Things turned violent about 2 hours northwest of Durban about 3 weeks ago when a little boy was killed by an ANC 4x4 after a rally. The area is a IFP stronghold. Zuma went there to try to emphasis his Zuluness…first ANC major leader that’s a Zulu (Mandela and Mbeki are KoiSan and Xhosa respectively). Ethnicity is playing a huge part in this election.
So the tidbit (longbit I suppose would be more accurate). An ANC election poster I say this morning read “Monty would vote for ANC. Vote ANC for One Nation.” ANC’s colors are yellow with green and black. In the middle of the poster is Monty Naicker’s face. Monty Naicker was a killer bad ass. Born in 1910, political activist and leader of the Natal Indian Congress in the 30-50. Jailed by the apartheid govt for high treason. Died in 1978 of poor health but not before fighting with all he had for racial equality. Interesting how someone who campaigned for peace, freedom and a non-racial society is being used to coerce people into voting for the ANC.
Typed this during a lecture about malaria. Don’t worry, I paid attention. Bottom line: Malaria control programs in South Africa have been very successful. Malaria happens in northern KwaZulu Natal, Limpopo and Mpumalanga provinces. I will be in a “malaria” zone during my ISP but have taken tablets, have a mozzie net and malaria outbreaks have been almost zlitch recently. Strangely enough, there were cases reported in Durban last month. Apparently someone’s neighbor goes to Mozambique a lot, where malaria is rife, and brought a mosquito back in his car and it bit this man. Big bummer.
I picked my ears up at the mention of the Bioko Island Malaria Control Programme, Equatorial Guinea. Sounds like Block Island so I got excited. Actually, its not…fancy that.
“Jesus is Lord” Church marked the end of my sprint today. I have quite the collection of Christianity-related things here that you will must definitely get a laugh out of. I sure do. Question-don’t you think naming your church after the number one thing you believe in is a bit redundant. Why can’t religious organizations (I’m including myself in this) be more creative? Ah, because that would go against their unbending ways….shame lol
1. I saw Moses. He was black, wore a white robe and had a staff. He walked into the sea but the waves did not part.
2. I saw the Karate Kid all grown up. This 40-50 year old man, wearing a snazzy track suit (mesh tank top and slit shorts) spent the morning kicking the waves crashing over his lower body.
I walked for 7 hours at the CANSA (cancer association of South Africa) Relay for Life. First time its been to SA=super exciting. 101 teams. We volunteered in the parking lot (grass lot). Sad that I didn’t have a neon jacket and a wand. Otherwise it was fantastic, though directing cars will not be my life career. Hehe I have a blister on my toe because I walked the whole thing barefoot.
An Indian security guard told me to “love life” this morning. It was a 5:30am run with the sun coming up and making the clouds slightly pink. It was cool like an early April day that promises to be warm. Durban was still sleeping and the light made soft curves over the Concrete City (my name for this part of Durban. Appropriate because this is what I see). Lights from the port, always busy even at dawn, twinkled at me from my vantage point high above on Ridge Rd.
Scary tidbit: Some background before I begin. I know how much you love my political rants that are crystal clear and always grammatically correct lol-----The national election is 22 April. I’ll be in Manguzi which may be tense because of clashes between ANC (African National Congress and majority party since 1994’s 1st democratic elections(end of apartheid) Currently dealing with lots of scandal-Zuma’s almost got himself out of corruption and money laundering charges; an unlawful release of several prisoners with political ties to ANC, etc, etc) and IFP (Inkata Freedom Party which campaigns on its Zuluness-it’s the “national party” and is a traditional stronghold in KZN which is 99% Zulu. I don’t really know anything about it except for its emphasis on “the tried and true alternative” to ANC. ANC started making in roads in KZN a few years ago and now is duking it out with IFP. Things turned violent about 2 hours northwest of Durban about 3 weeks ago when a little boy was killed by an ANC 4x4 after a rally. The area is a IFP stronghold. Zuma went there to try to emphasis his Zuluness…first ANC major leader that’s a Zulu (Mandela and Mbeki are KoiSan and Xhosa respectively). Ethnicity is playing a huge part in this election.
So the tidbit (longbit I suppose would be more accurate). An ANC election poster I say this morning read “Monty would vote for ANC. Vote ANC for One Nation.” ANC’s colors are yellow with green and black. In the middle of the poster is Monty Naicker’s face. Monty Naicker was a killer bad ass. Born in 1910, political activist and leader of the Natal Indian Congress in the 30-50. Jailed by the apartheid govt for high treason. Died in 1978 of poor health but not before fighting with all he had for racial equality. Interesting how someone who campaigned for peace, freedom and a non-racial society is being used to coerce people into voting for the ANC.
Typed this during a lecture about malaria. Don’t worry, I paid attention. Bottom line: Malaria control programs in South Africa have been very successful. Malaria happens in northern KwaZulu Natal, Limpopo and Mpumalanga provinces. I will be in a “malaria” zone during my ISP but have taken tablets, have a mozzie net and malaria outbreaks have been almost zlitch recently. Strangely enough, there were cases reported in Durban last month. Apparently someone’s neighbor goes to Mozambique a lot, where malaria is rife, and brought a mosquito back in his car and it bit this man. Big bummer.
I picked my ears up at the mention of the Bioko Island Malaria Control Programme, Equatorial Guinea. Sounds like Block Island so I got excited. Actually, its not…fancy that.
“Jesus is Lord” Church marked the end of my sprint today. I have quite the collection of Christianity-related things here that you will must definitely get a laugh out of. I sure do. Question-don’t you think naming your church after the number one thing you believe in is a bit redundant. Why can’t religious organizations (I’m including myself in this) be more creative? Ah, because that would go against their unbending ways….shame lol
March 23
Sawubona Umndeni Wami Nabagane (Hello My family and friends)
Warning: This will most likely be the last long email ya’ll get until May, and then I might be so busy wrapping up, that it will have to wait until Zimbabwe. Ah but there will be chaos so….I’m exaggerating, just warning all those that are desperate for my updates. Hehe
Anywho…here’s the latest. Before I begin-I got the package from home!! Thanks!! So classically Engell that it was a Cheerio’s box. It made me smile so much! Plus the identifier on the package in Mom’s writing “Clothes and cookies.” The post office is at this mini-mall strip about a 10-minute walk down the hill from school. Its literally downhill all the wall and then….a long walk back. Reminds me of Dad’s “When I was a boy and had to walk to school uphill both ways in the snow.” Just add sun, 30 oC and it’s the same. Makes for intense runs, that’s for sure. I actually may too many clothes now for the backpack! Funny twist. I’m wearing the shiny green skirt now. Thanks so much. The medicines are unnecessary for me but will help someone in Zim. Public hospitals have been closed since Jan. Good. Glad Mugabe is still living in a palace while his country dies.
I moved out of Cato on Friday morning. I won’t get into the heart-tugging details but basically, when it’s like when I returned from Ramah for the first time and broke down crying at a pizza parlor at the Pot holes. Remember that? Its remarkable how close people get in 6 weeks when you are the only ones you’ve got. I moved into Surf n Dreams, a backpackers a 30 minutes walk from the beach and I just discovered on my early morning (6am) run today, 3 streets away from where the Simpsons live. The weekend was centered around breaks in paper writing. My CHS paper on GoLD, which I will email when I finish, is almost done. The 20 single-spaced pages just flowed from me, putting all my struggles with paper length in my college career to shame. It’s amazingly refreshing to just be able to write. To have primary data changes everything.
Our breaks included making veggie lasagna from scratch, a few afternoon beach strolls, and runs. Super nice not to run in a square repeatedly. Plus, I was entertained by U19-ish boys soccer match that provided relief from the heat. I choose to break at 11:30am on a scorcher of a day. Other meals we concocted were fake-meat fajitas, salad topped with tuna and dips and crackers. There is the most fantastic dip on Earth at Spar, our grocery of choice-Sundried tomato pesto dip. I know! Its fabulous! Spar is like BigY or Stop and Shop. Woolworths is like WholeFoods.
Pretty much it.
This week marks the last of school and lectures. April 1 I leave for Manguzi. Have no fear-I took my malaria pill on Saturday. Judith says no need for malaria tablets unless I go to Vic. Falls on the weekend, which probably won’t happen because she can’t travel with me due to trying to save the country, which it needs rather badly. Unemployment hit 80%. Awesome.
Warning: This will most likely be the last long email ya’ll get until May, and then I might be so busy wrapping up, that it will have to wait until Zimbabwe. Ah but there will be chaos so….I’m exaggerating, just warning all those that are desperate for my updates. Hehe
Anywho…here’s the latest. Before I begin-I got the package from home!! Thanks!! So classically Engell that it was a Cheerio’s box. It made me smile so much! Plus the identifier on the package in Mom’s writing “Clothes and cookies.” The post office is at this mini-mall strip about a 10-minute walk down the hill from school. Its literally downhill all the wall and then….a long walk back. Reminds me of Dad’s “When I was a boy and had to walk to school uphill both ways in the snow.” Just add sun, 30 oC and it’s the same. Makes for intense runs, that’s for sure. I actually may too many clothes now for the backpack! Funny twist. I’m wearing the shiny green skirt now. Thanks so much. The medicines are unnecessary for me but will help someone in Zim. Public hospitals have been closed since Jan. Good. Glad Mugabe is still living in a palace while his country dies.
I moved out of Cato on Friday morning. I won’t get into the heart-tugging details but basically, when it’s like when I returned from Ramah for the first time and broke down crying at a pizza parlor at the Pot holes. Remember that? Its remarkable how close people get in 6 weeks when you are the only ones you’ve got. I moved into Surf n Dreams, a backpackers a 30 minutes walk from the beach and I just discovered on my early morning (6am) run today, 3 streets away from where the Simpsons live. The weekend was centered around breaks in paper writing. My CHS paper on GoLD, which I will email when I finish, is almost done. The 20 single-spaced pages just flowed from me, putting all my struggles with paper length in my college career to shame. It’s amazingly refreshing to just be able to write. To have primary data changes everything.
Our breaks included making veggie lasagna from scratch, a few afternoon beach strolls, and runs. Super nice not to run in a square repeatedly. Plus, I was entertained by U19-ish boys soccer match that provided relief from the heat. I choose to break at 11:30am on a scorcher of a day. Other meals we concocted were fake-meat fajitas, salad topped with tuna and dips and crackers. There is the most fantastic dip on Earth at Spar, our grocery of choice-Sundried tomato pesto dip. I know! Its fabulous! Spar is like BigY or Stop and Shop. Woolworths is like WholeFoods.
Pretty much it.
This week marks the last of school and lectures. April 1 I leave for Manguzi. Have no fear-I took my malaria pill on Saturday. Judith says no need for malaria tablets unless I go to Vic. Falls on the weekend, which probably won’t happen because she can’t travel with me due to trying to save the country, which it needs rather badly. Unemployment hit 80%. Awesome.
March 12th
Sawubona Umndemi Wami Nabangane Hi My family and friends,
Started writing this the 12th of March and now it’s the 15th. Gives you an idea how busy things are getting over here. Emails unfortunately will be getting more scarce…academics are gearing up and I’ll be leaving for the bush on the 31st of March until April 27 ish (but basically May 1 because I am giving myself 3 days to write a 40 page paper to maximize my time researching and just for the hell of it, I suppose). I hate using the phase “into the bush” because I’m sure you’re all picturing various stereotypes of rural backwards Africans from our Eurocentric history, but really, its true. I’m heading to Manguzi, South Africa for the month of April to do my ISP (independent study project) with an NGO called Tholulwazi Uzivikele. You can look both up through Google. Please do, it will provide a great procrastination tool and give you info on what I’m doing. I was hoping to be there by myself, to escape the madness of my group of 22 girls, some of whom I question why they are on this trip and not abroad in Europe-if you want to party, don’t come to a program that includes long drop toilets and more than 2 days away from Facebook access. (this is a slight exaggeration but not by much. Ish..these girls. I have so little time, I’ll save the ranting for the US) However, it looks like someone from the Reconciliation SIT program in Durban is joining me. I’ll be staying with a family, no running water or electricity so I’ll get lots of penmanship practice in-the result of this month is a 40ish page paper due May 1. What I want to be doing, and one can never really know, is profession hanging out as the anthropologists call it with home-based care givers. Lots of active participation and observation to study the personhood in medicine. Pretty much care ethics, which in my opinion should govern medicine and perhaps life hands down. Also, these caregivers, all women mostly, are burdened in ways that I don’t really have time to type/don’t fully know because I haven’t been there but have been living in rural and urban SA for 7 weeks now, before they become caregivers. There are very few outlets for emotional stress relief. I would like to study this stress and how caregiving in destitute areas where 30% of the child population are AIDS orphan and 60% of the adults are unemployed, to share a few depressing stats affects the quality of care and the health of the caregivers themselves. Hopefully I won’t be so rambling for the assignment but its 5:31 am and I need to make breakfast for Mama soon and I have been sleeping about 6 hours/night and everything is starting to build up in the way the Center for Global Initiatives warns you about. I’m surprising her with French toast, my maple syrup and fruit salad. Hope it goes well!
Stop: OMG!! Angelique is getting married! That’s insane! I can’t stop thinking about it! I’m so surprised and happy for her! Please have her email me or send me her address so I can girl-gossip with her! Also, super duper congrats on her dance team and my music ears are attuned to TX for Matt. Give everyone my best.
So…last week was spent in Amatikulu, a rural area about an hour south. Funny as it sounds, its like Cape Cod with cows and Zulus. Its loaded with sugarcane (I nawed about 2 feets worth that my host sister chopped down for me), sandy soil, animal husbandry, the Indian Ocean, the most beautiful-almost full moon I've ever seen, a Communist chief whose approval we needed to stay there (stop-erase the cowskins and smoke pipes or whatever ‘native’ thing you pictured. It’s the 21st century ya know-he dresses in Western clothes and is lucky enough to be employed in the sugarcane fields-unemployment and malnutrition, TB, AIDS, and diabetes are rampant), plenty of fathers trying to marry off their sons to us (a common day occurrence I'm totally used to as long as the guys aren't creepsters, which they usually aren’t), beading AIDS ribbons with gogos (grandmas), learning about rural high school education and its relationship with the community health workers we stayed with, visiting a sangoma who is also an inyanga and playing soccer with ten yr olds that will be better than I ever could aspire to me. It’s a bit embarrassing but mostly hilarious. A sangoma is a traditional diviner who is blessed with a connection to her/his ancestors to know how to heal people. An inyanga is also blessed by the ancestors with the power to actually heal, dispenses muthi (traditional medicine) This man, Mr. Nthenga is also a Zionist priest. Zionist Christianity is a combo of Christianity and African religions. Look it up on Google, it will enlighten and give your mind a spin (fun new expression I’ve picked up from my brothers). Such good energy in the room when we talked to him though it was a bit awkward 22 girls, our driver/saver of every day Thula translating and Mr. Nthenga in a school classroom.
Some funny moments:
Ever seen a chicken run-its especially hilarious after they get surprised by a fly throw-in in soccer. Also, what’s black and white and refereeing your match…a cow! And where are they penned up…outside your house in a kraal in the middle of the homestead. Epidemiologically very interesting. And what happens when your house is made of mud and your brother sends the ball flying…it crumbles. Shit to the max!
Before Amatikulu, we spent the weekend in a backpackers and I visited the oldest botanical gardens in Africa. Tell Grandma there were amazing orchids and I was an idiot and forget my camera. Had lots of me time at the beach and wandering around this huge gum and swamp fig trees. Also a rainbow tree. Go joke-its bark is literally multicolored and its endangered because everyone is so fascinated. Obviously.
After Amatikulu (Thursday to now) Went to Wiggins Secondary School again on Friday with GoLD. Look up GoLD peer education online please so you have a background for the stuff I tell. Time is running out….g2g cook while she’ll still asleep. Its hard hear to sleep past 6 because of the minibus taxis (yes, public transportation is 15 passenger vans. Anyone can own one and start a route in theory, but watch out because there is def. Territory-last year’s war flared up two weeks ago in Chesterville-the part of Cato Manor next to me, but no one was seriously hurt.) oh and the chickens…anyways. Helped run the session this time. Super awesome. Asked 3 girls for interviews afterwards and damnit. I can’t deal with 30 minutes of their stories, how can they deal with all this shit? Emotional, physical abuse, neglect, fighting with mom for love from dad, child-headed households, friends pressuring them to get pregnant for the social grant the government gives, dancing with poverty and no money for school fees, etc etc. And how does that impact your health….don’t have to be a genius. Its been a hard weekend for that reason and because the stream of conversation continued with Lloyd. His life is no easier-its rare to find a teen not emotionally abused. I very sadly am not exaggerating that every kid I’ve met here and live with has been or is emotionally abused. There is also a lot of physical abuse. A story in that vein-my friend Emma lives up the street from me here. Her neighbors include two little ones, about 3 or 4 each. The uncle of them has a temper and decided to take it out on them with the butt of his gun. One of them was butted in the head and has a small melon there and the other was flung across the cement in front of their house. This happened in the afternoon, with people all around (its impossible to escape from anyone here-overcrowded doesn’t really start to describe it). These are the kinds of things my friends and I vent about and share stories about: how’s got one about pot today (most nights I can practically get secondhand high; the smell starts wafting around 4 in the afternoon)? It’s overwhelming and scary and contrasts so abruptly from life at home.
I chaperoned Lloyd and Kelelo’s “date” with Lloyd’s 4 yr old sister in tow. That wasn’t a walk in the park. Teenage boys are teenage boys-arcade games, shopping cart races down aisles, crying baby, and the dates stood them up because they were left with their younger sisters. Common story here-young kids taking care of younger kids while parents work. Imagine David dealing with a toddler on a dinner date with Emily.
There’s a taste. Remind me about New Beginnings Church.
Please write back in kind- I miss you all dearly and want full reports on your lives. I have lots of time available during lectures to read your emails-most are incredibly boring. On the whole, I’ve been really disappointed with my schooling. I spent from 8-4 in the same seat with 30 minute breaks between 2 hour lectures and an hour for lunch. The lectures, while the topics are incredibly interesting, are presented in slideshow fashion with no discussion at all. I banked on SIT facilitating debates to grapple with the challenging questions the lectures present. So far the only outlet for such discussions has been lunch breaks and my journal.
Anyways…learning a lot outside 18 Alton Rd (the converted house where I go to school).
Salani kahle (Stay well. Said as a goodbye when you are the person leaving and the other is staying) Sala as it sounds nee ga (as in goo goo gaa gaa) hle. This part is tricky. It’s in between talking with a retainer and a sh sound. The ni signifies the plural. Sala is the verb to stay. Kahle means good, well, etc.
Ngiyanithanda kakhulu! Gee-ya-nee-tanda ka-koo-loo
I-present tense marker-you all-love a lot
Started writing this the 12th of March and now it’s the 15th. Gives you an idea how busy things are getting over here. Emails unfortunately will be getting more scarce…academics are gearing up and I’ll be leaving for the bush on the 31st of March until April 27 ish (but basically May 1 because I am giving myself 3 days to write a 40 page paper to maximize my time researching and just for the hell of it, I suppose). I hate using the phase “into the bush” because I’m sure you’re all picturing various stereotypes of rural backwards Africans from our Eurocentric history, but really, its true. I’m heading to Manguzi, South Africa for the month of April to do my ISP (independent study project) with an NGO called Tholulwazi Uzivikele. You can look both up through Google. Please do, it will provide a great procrastination tool and give you info on what I’m doing. I was hoping to be there by myself, to escape the madness of my group of 22 girls, some of whom I question why they are on this trip and not abroad in Europe-if you want to party, don’t come to a program that includes long drop toilets and more than 2 days away from Facebook access. (this is a slight exaggeration but not by much. Ish..these girls. I have so little time, I’ll save the ranting for the US) However, it looks like someone from the Reconciliation SIT program in Durban is joining me. I’ll be staying with a family, no running water or electricity so I’ll get lots of penmanship practice in-the result of this month is a 40ish page paper due May 1. What I want to be doing, and one can never really know, is profession hanging out as the anthropologists call it with home-based care givers. Lots of active participation and observation to study the personhood in medicine. Pretty much care ethics, which in my opinion should govern medicine and perhaps life hands down. Also, these caregivers, all women mostly, are burdened in ways that I don’t really have time to type/don’t fully know because I haven’t been there but have been living in rural and urban SA for 7 weeks now, before they become caregivers. There are very few outlets for emotional stress relief. I would like to study this stress and how caregiving in destitute areas where 30% of the child population are AIDS orphan and 60% of the adults are unemployed, to share a few depressing stats affects the quality of care and the health of the caregivers themselves. Hopefully I won’t be so rambling for the assignment but its 5:31 am and I need to make breakfast for Mama soon and I have been sleeping about 6 hours/night and everything is starting to build up in the way the Center for Global Initiatives warns you about. I’m surprising her with French toast, my maple syrup and fruit salad. Hope it goes well!
Stop: OMG!! Angelique is getting married! That’s insane! I can’t stop thinking about it! I’m so surprised and happy for her! Please have her email me or send me her address so I can girl-gossip with her! Also, super duper congrats on her dance team and my music ears are attuned to TX for Matt. Give everyone my best.
So…last week was spent in Amatikulu, a rural area about an hour south. Funny as it sounds, its like Cape Cod with cows and Zulus. Its loaded with sugarcane (I nawed about 2 feets worth that my host sister chopped down for me), sandy soil, animal husbandry, the Indian Ocean, the most beautiful-almost full moon I've ever seen, a Communist chief whose approval we needed to stay there (stop-erase the cowskins and smoke pipes or whatever ‘native’ thing you pictured. It’s the 21st century ya know-he dresses in Western clothes and is lucky enough to be employed in the sugarcane fields-unemployment and malnutrition, TB, AIDS, and diabetes are rampant), plenty of fathers trying to marry off their sons to us (a common day occurrence I'm totally used to as long as the guys aren't creepsters, which they usually aren’t), beading AIDS ribbons with gogos (grandmas), learning about rural high school education and its relationship with the community health workers we stayed with, visiting a sangoma who is also an inyanga and playing soccer with ten yr olds that will be better than I ever could aspire to me. It’s a bit embarrassing but mostly hilarious. A sangoma is a traditional diviner who is blessed with a connection to her/his ancestors to know how to heal people. An inyanga is also blessed by the ancestors with the power to actually heal, dispenses muthi (traditional medicine) This man, Mr. Nthenga is also a Zionist priest. Zionist Christianity is a combo of Christianity and African religions. Look it up on Google, it will enlighten and give your mind a spin (fun new expression I’ve picked up from my brothers). Such good energy in the room when we talked to him though it was a bit awkward 22 girls, our driver/saver of every day Thula translating and Mr. Nthenga in a school classroom.
Some funny moments:
Ever seen a chicken run-its especially hilarious after they get surprised by a fly throw-in in soccer. Also, what’s black and white and refereeing your match…a cow! And where are they penned up…outside your house in a kraal in the middle of the homestead. Epidemiologically very interesting. And what happens when your house is made of mud and your brother sends the ball flying…it crumbles. Shit to the max!
Before Amatikulu, we spent the weekend in a backpackers and I visited the oldest botanical gardens in Africa. Tell Grandma there were amazing orchids and I was an idiot and forget my camera. Had lots of me time at the beach and wandering around this huge gum and swamp fig trees. Also a rainbow tree. Go joke-its bark is literally multicolored and its endangered because everyone is so fascinated. Obviously.
After Amatikulu (Thursday to now) Went to Wiggins Secondary School again on Friday with GoLD. Look up GoLD peer education online please so you have a background for the stuff I tell. Time is running out….g2g cook while she’ll still asleep. Its hard hear to sleep past 6 because of the minibus taxis (yes, public transportation is 15 passenger vans. Anyone can own one and start a route in theory, but watch out because there is def. Territory-last year’s war flared up two weeks ago in Chesterville-the part of Cato Manor next to me, but no one was seriously hurt.) oh and the chickens…anyways. Helped run the session this time. Super awesome. Asked 3 girls for interviews afterwards and damnit. I can’t deal with 30 minutes of their stories, how can they deal with all this shit? Emotional, physical abuse, neglect, fighting with mom for love from dad, child-headed households, friends pressuring them to get pregnant for the social grant the government gives, dancing with poverty and no money for school fees, etc etc. And how does that impact your health….don’t have to be a genius. Its been a hard weekend for that reason and because the stream of conversation continued with Lloyd. His life is no easier-its rare to find a teen not emotionally abused. I very sadly am not exaggerating that every kid I’ve met here and live with has been or is emotionally abused. There is also a lot of physical abuse. A story in that vein-my friend Emma lives up the street from me here. Her neighbors include two little ones, about 3 or 4 each. The uncle of them has a temper and decided to take it out on them with the butt of his gun. One of them was butted in the head and has a small melon there and the other was flung across the cement in front of their house. This happened in the afternoon, with people all around (its impossible to escape from anyone here-overcrowded doesn’t really start to describe it). These are the kinds of things my friends and I vent about and share stories about: how’s got one about pot today (most nights I can practically get secondhand high; the smell starts wafting around 4 in the afternoon)? It’s overwhelming and scary and contrasts so abruptly from life at home.
I chaperoned Lloyd and Kelelo’s “date” with Lloyd’s 4 yr old sister in tow. That wasn’t a walk in the park. Teenage boys are teenage boys-arcade games, shopping cart races down aisles, crying baby, and the dates stood them up because they were left with their younger sisters. Common story here-young kids taking care of younger kids while parents work. Imagine David dealing with a toddler on a dinner date with Emily.
There’s a taste. Remind me about New Beginnings Church.
Please write back in kind- I miss you all dearly and want full reports on your lives. I have lots of time available during lectures to read your emails-most are incredibly boring. On the whole, I’ve been really disappointed with my schooling. I spent from 8-4 in the same seat with 30 minute breaks between 2 hour lectures and an hour for lunch. The lectures, while the topics are incredibly interesting, are presented in slideshow fashion with no discussion at all. I banked on SIT facilitating debates to grapple with the challenging questions the lectures present. So far the only outlet for such discussions has been lunch breaks and my journal.
Anyways…learning a lot outside 18 Alton Rd (the converted house where I go to school).
Salani kahle (Stay well. Said as a goodbye when you are the person leaving and the other is staying) Sala as it sounds nee ga (as in goo goo gaa gaa) hle. This part is tricky. It’s in between talking with a retainer and a sh sound. The ni signifies the plural. Sala is the verb to stay. Kahle means good, well, etc.
Ngiyanithanda kakhulu! Gee-ya-nee-tanda ka-koo-loo
I-present tense marker-you all-love a lot
This is mid Feb as well. Realizing this is a bit out of order...sorry (ngiyaxolisa)
I got the sweetest Valentine's Day cards from my sister and a neighbor! The girls are both 8 and colored these beautiful cards for me. Not quite the same as a kiss from you, but close. :) I spent the day hiking aka walking along cow paths in the Eastern Cape, close to Port St Johns for 5 hours. Destination amazing waterfall at the edge of the continent. Could see for nothing but ocean and coastline mountains (actually hills but lots bigger than hills) dropping into cliff and grass upon savanna grass. Breathtaking. I climbedbehind the waterfall which is 1 in 5 in the world that drops directly into the ocean and the only one in Africa. Super!!! Lots of pictures to share in June. Oh and lots of cows roaming free.
We were supposed to head to Gwexintaba on Sunday but heavy rain on dirt and rock roads=bad news bears. Spent the night at a backpackers instead getting chewed by mosquitoes and developing a virus. Everyone except 2 got explosive release, either up or down. Myself, I'm fine now (wed. morning) Just did some food purging (only rice and crackers) and gatorade-sque juice. Drove there Monday. Only 10 of us instead of everyone because the rest were really sick. So glad-would have been overwhleming otherwise. Can't really explain my time there because i'm pressed for time and everyone is talking around me. Bottom line-village life is hard hard hard but refresing for someone like me. No electricity, long drop toilets (look that up), fire cooking for food, livestock everywhere-chickens sleeping in the house, horses in the yard, goats and cattle running around. Adult jobs =animal husbandry for men, maize (look that up) tending, samp and beans, household stuff for women, school for children. Clinic is 45 mins. Away by our car along the “road” but not a car around=lots of TB sick kids. Saw my first visibly HIV+ kid. A little 10ish year old boy with a huge lesion on his arm (look up what that looks like). So traumatic knowing he will die because though dirt cheap by our standards, too expensive for people here. Healthcare is done by sangomas (look them up)=traditional healers, part diviners, part medicine man or by iyangas-female diviners. Money doesn’t really have weight here-live off the land. School nearby is only up to 5 and then a minibus taxi supposedly comes for the older kids. Logistics of that sound terrible though.
Only stayed one night. Got there around 2, unloaded our payment for the families-160R, 2 cabbages, 2 butternut squash, 6 onions, lots of pap (finely ground maize basically white corn meal). Each family has a homestead like set up-mine had 2 roundevals (look up-traditional Xhosa/Zulu housing), a sheet metal shack for fire cooking and storage, icebox, chickens living in the house. Actually had a bed but everyone else on dung floors. Dung walls too. Cow dung.
Today we’re off to a TB clinic in the Valley Trust (land region in KZN). Going to shul with Mr. Simpson this Friday, spending the night there vs. traveling with him into Cato at night. Not because its Cato but because all travel at night here is shaky. Going to cook dinner on Saturday for everyone because its Stembiso’s bday on the 23rd. He’ll be 17. Beach outing with everyone and our families on Sunday.
I got the sweetest Valentine's Day cards from my sister and a neighbor! The girls are both 8 and colored these beautiful cards for me. Not quite the same as a kiss from you, but close. :) I spent the day hiking aka walking along cow paths in the Eastern Cape, close to Port St Johns for 5 hours. Destination amazing waterfall at the edge of the continent. Could see for nothing but ocean and coastline mountains (actually hills but lots bigger than hills) dropping into cliff and grass upon savanna grass. Breathtaking. I climbedbehind the waterfall which is 1 in 5 in the world that drops directly into the ocean and the only one in Africa. Super!!! Lots of pictures to share in June. Oh and lots of cows roaming free.
We were supposed to head to Gwexintaba on Sunday but heavy rain on dirt and rock roads=bad news bears. Spent the night at a backpackers instead getting chewed by mosquitoes and developing a virus. Everyone except 2 got explosive release, either up or down. Myself, I'm fine now (wed. morning) Just did some food purging (only rice and crackers) and gatorade-sque juice. Drove there Monday. Only 10 of us instead of everyone because the rest were really sick. So glad-would have been overwhleming otherwise. Can't really explain my time there because i'm pressed for time and everyone is talking around me. Bottom line-village life is hard hard hard but refresing for someone like me. No electricity, long drop toilets (look that up), fire cooking for food, livestock everywhere-chickens sleeping in the house, horses in the yard, goats and cattle running around. Adult jobs =animal husbandry for men, maize (look that up) tending, samp and beans, household stuff for women, school for children. Clinic is 45 mins. Away by our car along the “road” but not a car around=lots of TB sick kids. Saw my first visibly HIV+ kid. A little 10ish year old boy with a huge lesion on his arm (look up what that looks like). So traumatic knowing he will die because though dirt cheap by our standards, too expensive for people here. Healthcare is done by sangomas (look them up)=traditional healers, part diviners, part medicine man or by iyangas-female diviners. Money doesn’t really have weight here-live off the land. School nearby is only up to 5 and then a minibus taxi supposedly comes for the older kids. Logistics of that sound terrible though.
Only stayed one night. Got there around 2, unloaded our payment for the families-160R, 2 cabbages, 2 butternut squash, 6 onions, lots of pap (finely ground maize basically white corn meal). Each family has a homestead like set up-mine had 2 roundevals (look up-traditional Xhosa/Zulu housing), a sheet metal shack for fire cooking and storage, icebox, chickens living in the house. Actually had a bed but everyone else on dung floors. Dung walls too. Cow dung.
Today we’re off to a TB clinic in the Valley Trust (land region in KZN). Going to shul with Mr. Simpson this Friday, spending the night there vs. traveling with him into Cato at night. Not because its Cato but because all travel at night here is shaky. Going to cook dinner on Saturday for everyone because its Stembiso’s bday on the 23rd. He’ll be 17. Beach outing with everyone and our families on Sunday.
This is from March 5th
So my last week in brief:
School as usual in the first half. Left on Friday to Cobham, a rural area 3 hours away from Durban. We hung out as a group for 2 days hiking, seeing baboons, seeing Bushmen rock art from 100-200 years ago (people riding horses, cows, people dancing and fishing), having too many cook in the kitchen over a gas burner and a camp fire. The hike for all day and absolutely breathtaking-probably the most beautiful landscape I’ve ever seen. We were staring at Lesotho all the way there as well-it was only at 15 kms away. After hiking there I can see why Lesotho never got colonized. It was (basically still is cuz that’s the way things work) a British protectorate like Swaziland and Botswana (and Israel)-the area is completely surrounded by mountains and cliffs.
We stayed in a Laura Ingalls Wilder-Africa style lodge with no electricity, lots of bunkbeds, candle holders attached to the walls and stone fireplaces. Very centering, especially waking up on Sunday at 6 to clouds hanging in the valleys, running past grazing cows and tea plantations and climbing a hill/rise to do a panorama of the mind.
Sunday early afternoon we left to drive to Impendle, the rural village we stayed with until Tuesday. Impendle is divided into 4 wards and covers a huge physical area but is very sparsely populated. We of us went 2 to a family. Emma and I stayed with a gogo, 2 of her daughters-Thule and Ntombi (25 and 27) Ntombi’s 1 year old whose nickname means explode, 12 year old who is one of the children of gogo’s deceased by AIDS daughter (the other child is 13 and goes to a school for the mentally disabled in Pietermartzberg). Their house is big-spacious kitchen, 2 small storage rooms, living room with a fuzzy tv, 3 bedrooms, a “shower” room (plastic bucket with a drain). However, its falling apart-its made of mud and sheet metal roofing. They have electricity and a light bulb dangling from the ceiling in each room but don’t always have access to clean water. They bought access to a government pumped tap but it is often shut off and then they have to draw water from the river 2 kms away. Ntombi said “white bugs swim around sometimes so we have to boil it.” We ate well!! Slaughtered a chicken and helped pluck it, ate butternut squash, spinach, pap (mealie meal), jeqe (steam bread that is absolutely delicious and I will teach you all), potatoes, beans. Ymm! That was a combo menu of two dinners cooked by wood stove. Poor ventilation-smoke filled the kitchen because the pipe was bent at a 15 degree angle so it was less than airtight.
Shared a bed with Emma and Thule so the cooler Drakensberg (mountain range we hiked and were living in there) air was staved off. Interesting observations: family interactions were much were positive in the rural area. The baby in Cato is rarely positively stimulated whereas this baby was cuddled, helped, stimulated, etc. Mama are the same age, same family around, same unemployment. Lots to problematize here. Food for thought.
Spent Monday visiting homes in what Emma and I have coined “illness tourism.” After a lesson in futility trying to push our van out of a mud pit (when dirt get poured on, roads swell to impassable and houses fall down), we made our way to Beatrice, a homebased care nurse. She is a wonderful lady and it was unfortunate that 22 of us were paraded through to people dying of TB, AIDS and diabetes (yes, here people die of diabetes) in their mud roundevals. I learned a lot but felt incredibly uncomfortable to be tourists to suffering.
Monday afternoon was spent in the clinic’s meeting room listening to a social worker, the clinic head nurse, and a white South African ex-engineer AIDS denialist that has moved with his wife to Impendle to solve AIDS with proper nutrition and organic gardens. An interesting fellow to say the least. Cured himself from TB by drinking herbs and eating wheat germ after “almost being killed by DOTS.” Some of his ideas are legit-eating healthy does stave off lots of problems. But denying HIV and AIDS don’t exist is another story entirely. Frustrating especially because the power he has a white educated male prancing into a rural illiterate impoverished community is so so dangerous.
Same kind of parading on Tuesday morning to a school “greening” project: an environmentalist from the government is trying to set up greening in schools. Ie putting grass where there was previously none. Only glitch is this area was no access to potable water. How can the government build a garden?? Beats me. The difference between paper miracles and reality is starker at times than others, but always stark.
Finishing the week with school. Free weekend in Durban and then heading to Amatikulu, another rural area where we’ll visit and live with community health workers, help with a beading project, visit a sangoma and a school.
Mom-I got Aunt Gayle’s package!! Thanks so much!! I left the card with her email on it at home and wanted to email her right away. Please forward this to her and Bobi and Zadi and Grandma. So excited to disperse my goodies. Anything I don’t will be going to Emma who is going to the other northern corner of KZN (an area bordering Mozambique and Swaziland) to work with a project integrating orphans into school settings.
Lots of love! A package…hmmm…its pretty expensive to ship stuff. I don’t need anything except for your physical persons to hug, so unless you-ll have been busy discovering long term breathe holding, I’m good.
Kisses!!
So my last week in brief:
School as usual in the first half. Left on Friday to Cobham, a rural area 3 hours away from Durban. We hung out as a group for 2 days hiking, seeing baboons, seeing Bushmen rock art from 100-200 years ago (people riding horses, cows, people dancing and fishing), having too many cook in the kitchen over a gas burner and a camp fire. The hike for all day and absolutely breathtaking-probably the most beautiful landscape I’ve ever seen. We were staring at Lesotho all the way there as well-it was only at 15 kms away. After hiking there I can see why Lesotho never got colonized. It was (basically still is cuz that’s the way things work) a British protectorate like Swaziland and Botswana (and Israel)-the area is completely surrounded by mountains and cliffs.
We stayed in a Laura Ingalls Wilder-Africa style lodge with no electricity, lots of bunkbeds, candle holders attached to the walls and stone fireplaces. Very centering, especially waking up on Sunday at 6 to clouds hanging in the valleys, running past grazing cows and tea plantations and climbing a hill/rise to do a panorama of the mind.
Sunday early afternoon we left to drive to Impendle, the rural village we stayed with until Tuesday. Impendle is divided into 4 wards and covers a huge physical area but is very sparsely populated. We of us went 2 to a family. Emma and I stayed with a gogo, 2 of her daughters-Thule and Ntombi (25 and 27) Ntombi’s 1 year old whose nickname means explode, 12 year old who is one of the children of gogo’s deceased by AIDS daughter (the other child is 13 and goes to a school for the mentally disabled in Pietermartzberg). Their house is big-spacious kitchen, 2 small storage rooms, living room with a fuzzy tv, 3 bedrooms, a “shower” room (plastic bucket with a drain). However, its falling apart-its made of mud and sheet metal roofing. They have electricity and a light bulb dangling from the ceiling in each room but don’t always have access to clean water. They bought access to a government pumped tap but it is often shut off and then they have to draw water from the river 2 kms away. Ntombi said “white bugs swim around sometimes so we have to boil it.” We ate well!! Slaughtered a chicken and helped pluck it, ate butternut squash, spinach, pap (mealie meal), jeqe (steam bread that is absolutely delicious and I will teach you all), potatoes, beans. Ymm! That was a combo menu of two dinners cooked by wood stove. Poor ventilation-smoke filled the kitchen because the pipe was bent at a 15 degree angle so it was less than airtight.
Shared a bed with Emma and Thule so the cooler Drakensberg (mountain range we hiked and were living in there) air was staved off. Interesting observations: family interactions were much were positive in the rural area. The baby in Cato is rarely positively stimulated whereas this baby was cuddled, helped, stimulated, etc. Mama are the same age, same family around, same unemployment. Lots to problematize here. Food for thought.
Spent Monday visiting homes in what Emma and I have coined “illness tourism.” After a lesson in futility trying to push our van out of a mud pit (when dirt get poured on, roads swell to impassable and houses fall down), we made our way to Beatrice, a homebased care nurse. She is a wonderful lady and it was unfortunate that 22 of us were paraded through to people dying of TB, AIDS and diabetes (yes, here people die of diabetes) in their mud roundevals. I learned a lot but felt incredibly uncomfortable to be tourists to suffering.
Monday afternoon was spent in the clinic’s meeting room listening to a social worker, the clinic head nurse, and a white South African ex-engineer AIDS denialist that has moved with his wife to Impendle to solve AIDS with proper nutrition and organic gardens. An interesting fellow to say the least. Cured himself from TB by drinking herbs and eating wheat germ after “almost being killed by DOTS.” Some of his ideas are legit-eating healthy does stave off lots of problems. But denying HIV and AIDS don’t exist is another story entirely. Frustrating especially because the power he has a white educated male prancing into a rural illiterate impoverished community is so so dangerous.
Same kind of parading on Tuesday morning to a school “greening” project: an environmentalist from the government is trying to set up greening in schools. Ie putting grass where there was previously none. Only glitch is this area was no access to potable water. How can the government build a garden?? Beats me. The difference between paper miracles and reality is starker at times than others, but always stark.
Finishing the week with school. Free weekend in Durban and then heading to Amatikulu, another rural area where we’ll visit and live with community health workers, help with a beading project, visit a sangoma and a school.
Mom-I got Aunt Gayle’s package!! Thanks so much!! I left the card with her email on it at home and wanted to email her right away. Please forward this to her and Bobi and Zadi and Grandma. So excited to disperse my goodies. Anything I don’t will be going to Emma who is going to the other northern corner of KZN (an area bordering Mozambique and Swaziland) to work with a project integrating orphans into school settings.
Lots of love! A package…hmmm…its pretty expensive to ship stuff. I don’t need anything except for your physical persons to hug, so unless you-ll have been busy discovering long term breathe holding, I’m good.
Kisses!!
This is from mid Feb:
Sawunbona umndeni wami (hello the family that is mine)
Continuing to make plenty of cultural blunders. My Zulu is getting better and there are so many kids around that I bother about vocab and sentence structure. I'm really enjoying myself, eating meat every night (beef and lamb are tough! but so delicious :) don't tell your dad :) and getting my hair braided every free moment. Its exhausting-my house (houses because of next door) don't go to sleep until really late for around here-10 (most of my friends homes are out by 830) so after a long day of school/zulu/kids/helping at least 3 kids with their homework then i start my homework. there's never a quiet moment, especially when I'm in charge of the baby. I'm a normal member of the household, expected to fed and take care of the baby and i definitely don't escape scolding by gogo (grandma).
I went to the New Beginnings church last night with Leh and Mbali (means flower-she and her name are so beautiful) my 19 and 21 year old "sisters". They are actually cousins. The family tree is so complicated-i think i only have 1/2 of it. people also just show up sometimes too. Anyways, the church is in Chesterville, the neighboring township. the area the church is in is nicer than cato manor but still cement small govt houses; they are just more spaced out in chesterville. Such a difference from the Roman Catholic church on Sunday. Don't remember if I wrote about that but it was basically the same as what I've gathered from your services at home just with African response/recall singing, some dancing similar to Israeli dancing just in a line instead of a circle. Yesterday it was a big cement hall with plastic chairs and a stage with a drumset, electric guitar, keyboard, 3 backup singers and a main singer. A projector connected to a laptop displayed the hymms and I could sing along! It was an incredibly spiritual experience for me. Everyone (close to 175) was singing with their eyes closed, hands outstretched, over head, swaying, some on the ground praying, a lot crying. No one judging or noticing me being the only white person (sunday they announced me and had me stand up and thanked me for being from america and bringing obama to the light and asked me for dollars, not rand for their church. that distinction they made clear. people shook my hand afterward and greeted me in english with "hello america, gd bless you child") The speakers were literally deafening which probably contributed to people feeling godly-their heads were probably vibrating. after about 20 min of singing, the preacher read matthew chp 7 and gave a sermon, then annoucements, then more singing, some "language in tongues-said in english" at that moment everyone started praying individually but aloud for about 5. the hall filled with voices and it was magically and powerfully. i understood some words throughout the whole thing and a chunk of people's prayers. it was incredibly moving seeing how devout these people were but scary as well. the verses you can look up, but were about putting your faith in gd. literally: "why do you worry about clothes and food and water? Do you not have faith that gd will provide for you?" Leh's bible was in english. This was particular jarring because though everyone around the church looked pretty well dressed, looks are deceiving. Everyone here treats what little they have with absolute 100000% care. The 4 outfits Mama Busi has are always pressed and my clothes always ironed. Down the road from the church are the shanty shack parts of Chesterville and Cato. The disconnect between gd promising to provide and the harsh reality and for some, abject poverty, was upsetting. I prayed for Hashem to hear their prayers and answering them hastily-I have never met more sincerely caring and compassionate individuals as my family and friends in cato. of anyone in the world, surly they deserve to be heard. The arbitrayness of people's situations in life is hitting me over and over. We rode a taxi bus home (15 person van that functions as a taxi-they're everywhere and drive so fast and with varying levels of danger on the road). They work that the 1st to get in gets dropped 1st een if that doesnm't make distance sense. End result was a 45 min. car ride for what would have probably taken shorter to walk, though it was dark and we were 3 girls, one white. over and over, lecturers have drummed in the "1st world 3rd world across the road" reality and the problems that poses for the new south africa. on the way home, it could not have been more plain. there is an enmorous mall here called the pavillion that is between nice and extravagent. literally in its backyard, is cato manor and their shacks. about 30 mins. from my house is a neighborhood of mansions, mansions by american standards, which means absolutely insane by south african standards and absurd for cato manor standards. literally across the road for these mansions, are one room cement houses much crapper than what I'm living in. We dropped people off in these and then continued through the shack part to get to my house. how??? just how can these differences happen?? Scott, that's one for your ethics class. tlk about lose-lose for blacks. how can people live in those nice houses when 10 % of the province doesn't have access to toilets!! not flush, nice toilets-nothing. literally shitting on the ground. my belief in the inequality of gd and kindness of hashem is betting shaken. I need to seriously reexamine myself.....guess that's what this is all about.
went to a school for the mentally disabled today. it was really cool. the school was built for indians under the apartheid system that set up 4 different educational systems for the 4 different races (black, coloured, indians, white). 1975 began what it is now. 195 students 60/40 black/indian with 4 whites. ages 6-21. hung out, introduced ourselves, asked and was asked questions, helped the teachers teach numbers and colors and played cricket at recess. monkeys peppered the trees and ran around in the field-my 1st african animal experience. :) Lion King was ringing in my head.
Sawunbona umndeni wami (hello the family that is mine)
Continuing to make plenty of cultural blunders. My Zulu is getting better and there are so many kids around that I bother about vocab and sentence structure. I'm really enjoying myself, eating meat every night (beef and lamb are tough! but so delicious :) don't tell your dad :) and getting my hair braided every free moment. Its exhausting-my house (houses because of next door) don't go to sleep until really late for around here-10 (most of my friends homes are out by 830) so after a long day of school/zulu/kids/helping at least 3 kids with their homework then i start my homework. there's never a quiet moment, especially when I'm in charge of the baby. I'm a normal member of the household, expected to fed and take care of the baby and i definitely don't escape scolding by gogo (grandma).
I went to the New Beginnings church last night with Leh and Mbali (means flower-she and her name are so beautiful) my 19 and 21 year old "sisters". They are actually cousins. The family tree is so complicated-i think i only have 1/2 of it. people also just show up sometimes too. Anyways, the church is in Chesterville, the neighboring township. the area the church is in is nicer than cato manor but still cement small govt houses; they are just more spaced out in chesterville. Such a difference from the Roman Catholic church on Sunday. Don't remember if I wrote about that but it was basically the same as what I've gathered from your services at home just with African response/recall singing, some dancing similar to Israeli dancing just in a line instead of a circle. Yesterday it was a big cement hall with plastic chairs and a stage with a drumset, electric guitar, keyboard, 3 backup singers and a main singer. A projector connected to a laptop displayed the hymms and I could sing along! It was an incredibly spiritual experience for me. Everyone (close to 175) was singing with their eyes closed, hands outstretched, over head, swaying, some on the ground praying, a lot crying. No one judging or noticing me being the only white person (sunday they announced me and had me stand up and thanked me for being from america and bringing obama to the light and asked me for dollars, not rand for their church. that distinction they made clear. people shook my hand afterward and greeted me in english with "hello america, gd bless you child") The speakers were literally deafening which probably contributed to people feeling godly-their heads were probably vibrating. after about 20 min of singing, the preacher read matthew chp 7 and gave a sermon, then annoucements, then more singing, some "language in tongues-said in english" at that moment everyone started praying individually but aloud for about 5. the hall filled with voices and it was magically and powerfully. i understood some words throughout the whole thing and a chunk of people's prayers. it was incredibly moving seeing how devout these people were but scary as well. the verses you can look up, but were about putting your faith in gd. literally: "why do you worry about clothes and food and water? Do you not have faith that gd will provide for you?" Leh's bible was in english. This was particular jarring because though everyone around the church looked pretty well dressed, looks are deceiving. Everyone here treats what little they have with absolute 100000% care. The 4 outfits Mama Busi has are always pressed and my clothes always ironed. Down the road from the church are the shanty shack parts of Chesterville and Cato. The disconnect between gd promising to provide and the harsh reality and for some, abject poverty, was upsetting. I prayed for Hashem to hear their prayers and answering them hastily-I have never met more sincerely caring and compassionate individuals as my family and friends in cato. of anyone in the world, surly they deserve to be heard. The arbitrayness of people's situations in life is hitting me over and over. We rode a taxi bus home (15 person van that functions as a taxi-they're everywhere and drive so fast and with varying levels of danger on the road). They work that the 1st to get in gets dropped 1st een if that doesnm't make distance sense. End result was a 45 min. car ride for what would have probably taken shorter to walk, though it was dark and we were 3 girls, one white. over and over, lecturers have drummed in the "1st world 3rd world across the road" reality and the problems that poses for the new south africa. on the way home, it could not have been more plain. there is an enmorous mall here called the pavillion that is between nice and extravagent. literally in its backyard, is cato manor and their shacks. about 30 mins. from my house is a neighborhood of mansions, mansions by american standards, which means absolutely insane by south african standards and absurd for cato manor standards. literally across the road for these mansions, are one room cement houses much crapper than what I'm living in. We dropped people off in these and then continued through the shack part to get to my house. how??? just how can these differences happen?? Scott, that's one for your ethics class. tlk about lose-lose for blacks. how can people live in those nice houses when 10 % of the province doesn't have access to toilets!! not flush, nice toilets-nothing. literally shitting on the ground. my belief in the inequality of gd and kindness of hashem is betting shaken. I need to seriously reexamine myself.....guess that's what this is all about.
went to a school for the mentally disabled today. it was really cool. the school was built for indians under the apartheid system that set up 4 different educational systems for the 4 different races (black, coloured, indians, white). 1975 began what it is now. 195 students 60/40 black/indian with 4 whites. ages 6-21. hung out, introduced ourselves, asked and was asked questions, helped the teachers teach numbers and colors and played cricket at recess. monkeys peppered the trees and ran around in the field-my 1st african animal experience. :) Lion King was ringing in my head.
Hi Everyone. So I obviously haven't been blogging. Oops. Decided to copy and paste some of the emails I've sent. Hope this fills in some of the blanks in my travels. As always, I'll be home to chat :)
This is from sometime in early Feb:
Sawubona (literally I see you)
Yes, letting myself be lost isn't the goal but leaving my privilege and power that is my invisible knapsack is the task of the semester. Heading to the Eastern Cape on Friday until Tuesday. That's the long drop toilet stay. A weekend hike with the group then two days with two to a house, sharing and learning with this village. will be staying on for another 2 weeks in Cato Manor instead of going to a hostel during the transition between Cato Manor and ISP. My closest friend here, emma cordes and I are planning on going to a rural hospital/clinic (not really sure which) in the bush bush of nortern KZN near Mozambique. Good thing I have the malaria pills and net. Details to details still need to be worked out but I'm thinking about doing a few case studies about personalhood in medicine-a practictioner, a patient, a patient's family member(s), community health worker, maybe a chief (isikosi). Really loving the challenges though starting to recongize how trying and tiring it is.
Days are as follow:
530 wake up by a neighbor across the street's radio. Today it was Bob marley. Enjyoable but not at 530. And always accompanied by roosters. Chickens and roosters roam around freely though seem to know where they belong. Strict unwritten rules about who has rights to them. Very valuable property-for some, the only access to meat; not for my family though.
“Run” at 545 with my ‘brothers’ Lloyd and Keleo. Lloyd lives 2 houses down and is 15; Kelelo is my Mama’s grand-niece and is 13. My personal bodyguards around “town.” This age group internationally and cross-culturally is annoying at times, sweet, obsessed with farting noises and ready to please. The run is actually a sprint up the hill (paved) that the house is on, walk until Kelelo gets his breath, sprint on his command. Then walk. That’s all. Yesterday I introduced the idea of running at a constant pace, which was met by light bulbs going on.
Breakfast, sometimes a bath. 7 or 730 pick up outside my house. Class-Zulu, Community Health lecturer, usually a UKZN professor, a school princpal, a nutritionist, etc. We sit in the same seats all day with lunch breaks and others until r430 or 500.
Then home to Mama. Play in the streets, help with dinner. Eat with her and whatever other kids are around at the time. Clean up. Start “Rebecca’s Library”-about 2-3 hours every night where kids from the neighborhood come and hang between my house and the next hosue (where mama’s family lives 8-10 in the same size house literally 3 steps away) to do school work. I get help with Zulu and teach maths (yes with an s-short for mathematics), physics (for physical science), English spelling. Teachers use rote education tactics so even Lloyd, as a sophomore in high school, can’t read something and rephrase it in his own words. None of them know their multiplication tables. I’ve made one for everyone out of cereal boxes.
Don’t get any of my work done until the kids leave, so that brings me to about 11-12 or 9 when the days catch up to me. Noise pollution is everywhere so concentration is difficult.
Lots of love and thanks for this amazingly challenging experience. Always learning, always absorbing and considering naming my future daughter mbali (mmm like when humming ba as in ball lee as in lizzie’s last name) it means flower. My 21 year old “sister” is named mbali and she is beautiful and strong and empowered.
Salani kuhle Stay-you all well salani sounds like salami but with an n. kuhle is goo-shlay. K are a hard g/k mix that’s very hard to master.
This is from sometime in early Feb:
Sawubona (literally I see you)
Yes, letting myself be lost isn't the goal but leaving my privilege and power that is my invisible knapsack is the task of the semester. Heading to the Eastern Cape on Friday until Tuesday. That's the long drop toilet stay. A weekend hike with the group then two days with two to a house, sharing and learning with this village. will be staying on for another 2 weeks in Cato Manor instead of going to a hostel during the transition between Cato Manor and ISP. My closest friend here, emma cordes and I are planning on going to a rural hospital/clinic (not really sure which) in the bush bush of nortern KZN near Mozambique. Good thing I have the malaria pills and net. Details to details still need to be worked out but I'm thinking about doing a few case studies about personalhood in medicine-a practictioner, a patient, a patient's family member(s), community health worker, maybe a chief (isikosi). Really loving the challenges though starting to recongize how trying and tiring it is.
Days are as follow:
530 wake up by a neighbor across the street's radio. Today it was Bob marley. Enjyoable but not at 530. And always accompanied by roosters. Chickens and roosters roam around freely though seem to know where they belong. Strict unwritten rules about who has rights to them. Very valuable property-for some, the only access to meat; not for my family though.
“Run” at 545 with my ‘brothers’ Lloyd and Keleo. Lloyd lives 2 houses down and is 15; Kelelo is my Mama’s grand-niece and is 13. My personal bodyguards around “town.” This age group internationally and cross-culturally is annoying at times, sweet, obsessed with farting noises and ready to please. The run is actually a sprint up the hill (paved) that the house is on, walk until Kelelo gets his breath, sprint on his command. Then walk. That’s all. Yesterday I introduced the idea of running at a constant pace, which was met by light bulbs going on.
Breakfast, sometimes a bath. 7 or 730 pick up outside my house. Class-Zulu, Community Health lecturer, usually a UKZN professor, a school princpal, a nutritionist, etc. We sit in the same seats all day with lunch breaks and others until r430 or 500.
Then home to Mama. Play in the streets, help with dinner. Eat with her and whatever other kids are around at the time. Clean up. Start “Rebecca’s Library”-about 2-3 hours every night where kids from the neighborhood come and hang between my house and the next hosue (where mama’s family lives 8-10 in the same size house literally 3 steps away) to do school work. I get help with Zulu and teach maths (yes with an s-short for mathematics), physics (for physical science), English spelling. Teachers use rote education tactics so even Lloyd, as a sophomore in high school, can’t read something and rephrase it in his own words. None of them know their multiplication tables. I’ve made one for everyone out of cereal boxes.
Don’t get any of my work done until the kids leave, so that brings me to about 11-12 or 9 when the days catch up to me. Noise pollution is everywhere so concentration is difficult.
Lots of love and thanks for this amazingly challenging experience. Always learning, always absorbing and considering naming my future daughter mbali (mmm like when humming ba as in ball lee as in lizzie’s last name) it means flower. My 21 year old “sister” is named mbali and she is beautiful and strong and empowered.
Salani kuhle Stay-you all well salani sounds like salami but with an n. kuhle is goo-shlay. K are a hard g/k mix that’s very hard to master.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Here I Go!
Hello all!
Those reading this hopefully know me and my paranoia about putting my information out into cyperspace. Hence, no background info-you all know me already :)
I'll be updating this every so often, though probably not as often as my padre would prefer-I'll be without Internet at different periods throughout the semester.
Enjoy reading! I look forward to hearing about all your adventures as well!
Those reading this hopefully know me and my paranoia about putting my information out into cyperspace. Hence, no background info-you all know me already :)
I'll be updating this every so often, though probably not as often as my padre would prefer-I'll be without Internet at different periods throughout the semester.
Enjoy reading! I look forward to hearing about all your adventures as well!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)