Meditation Retreat, about and around Cape Town

At the start of July, I ventured to Cape Town, where I celebrated a very special time-my one year anniversary for living in South Africa. I attended a 10 day, silent meditation retreat and explored the big city on the coast.

Once my flight arrived in Cape Town, I took a scenic drive in the mountains. With baboons passing the roadside, I relaxed into my usual self chatting with a new friend, who volunteered to lift me to the Vipassana Meditation center located in Worcester, a rural setting 2 hours from city center.

That evening segregated by sex in our eating quarters, new students nervously giggled in groups over our first prepared vegetarian dish. One woman questioned whether she was, “the only oldie” of our bunch. 75 years wise, Ida and I immediately bonded. That evening, at the sound of the 9pm gong, we all began our vow to live in noble silence without voice, gesturing or making eye contact with other participants. Reading, writing, exercise, or activity in other hobbies was also not permitted. At the female entrance to the meditation hall, I boldly smiled to myself, unaware what exactly was this something new, I then sauntered into the dark, subtle lighted room and took my seat legs crossed on the royal blue cushions. Ahead of me nobly sat the two assistant teachers that would guide our learning’s. After our sessions we followed the moonlit sky to our chalets. I choose a cot next to Ida, and nightly I fastened myself in my sleeping bag and slowly drifted off to sleep after thoroughly pondering the lifestyle I had accepted.

The next 10 days, I would follow a rigorous routine beginning with a morning wake at 4:30a for a meditation session, then after: breakfast, a short rest, group meditation session in hall, own meditation session, lunch, short rest, own mediation session, group meditation, own meditation, dinner, group meditation, night discourse, and then a final meditation closing at 9:30p. Bells and gongs signify time elapse and the start and close of the 2 hour meditation sittings.

With our living spot surrounded by miraculous nature, I negotiated devoting my days to the draining activity as it would be rewarded with walking the outdoors for a few hours anonymous (a rarity in the village). As we dished our meals of stew and salad spiced just right, I found it difficult holding back from a second helping. Served breakfast, lunch, and then 5p last meal of popcorn and fruit, I savored the flavors and sitting by myself either inside or by mid day ogling the multicolored land and sky.

With each day’s sensations, peace, tears, and teaching, the inner learning became more apparent. I know that I have surely gained a valuable tool that is helping me to be a more reflective and less reactive person. At the closing of our 10 days, participants were given time to talk with each other before leaving the center. Our group of women from all walks of life, giggled over the weeks challenges and obsessions to the extent of headache.

The next morning, I received transport from a group of Capetonian girls to my Cape Town central backpackers and quickly returned to a world of sound and first-world normalcy. The girls blared old-school tunes and we sang along to Alanis Morsette and Little Mermaid, stopping at the nearest Shell gas station to grab junk snacks, cold drink and chow down on all our cravings.

With the news of my parents visit to South Africa in December, I was under little pressure to attend to all the gobs of touristy activity the area breathes, and rather traipsed the city shops by day with coffee in hand and hanging out with the new friends I had met from the retreat in the eve. Venturing around Cape Town the next few days was invigorating.

An afternoon at Ida’s waterfront flat, listening to French music and eating quiche, engaged in heavy genuine conversation with new friends, and then Mexican eats, Mojito drinks, live music, and dancing nights. A celebration of all sorts!

guavas and swine

With the cold comes a golden tasty treat. South Africa is located in the southern hemisphere, our seasons are just opposite of U.S.A. and since the start of May we have entered the winter months. My home and stretched green grass yard provide me with plenty of fine gifts like room for yoga with my girls group or my favorite- morning fruit bites. With the passing of another cold night , I can waken to a new ripe Guava to sink my teeth into. Either yellow with a yellow center or green with a pink center, these pear necked fruits are just delightful.
When a different fruit tree has begun its blossoming, then I wait in anticipation for what delicious snack I will be able to pull from its limbs. With arrival usually comes a stomach ache as I snack on too many leaving me finished for the day only to grab a hold again tomorrow. In addition to stomach pains the guavas arrived with something else- a bit of diarrhea. Please excuse my t.m.i (too much information), travelers don't seem to have difficulty sharing these facts.

I should mention that the pulpy center of the guava is nutty. Having never eaten this fruit before, I began my self-diagnosis, heredity pointed to diverticulitis (digestive disease found in the large intestine). With all this talk of swine flu and my host sister off in the hospital ill, my mind has been wandering. But with a bit of Googling, I am left feeling just right as I discover how much greater this Guava fruit really is. Not only is it an excellent source of Vitamin C, far more than most fruits but it promotes a healthy colon, and rids bacterial infections, therefore it is rather normal that it would be cleaning me like so. Could it be that this winter wonder has been keeping my freezing toes and nose in good health? Well, in any case I have increased my hand-washing and sanitizing as recommended. So pick yourself up some Guava juice! Don’t waste your taste with a sugared version, take a swig of 100% fruit and join me in soaking up some Vitamin C!


Lungile, my sister and I help each other pull Guavas

Sepedi wedding

In need of a little cultural activity, I attended the wedding for my primary school principal’s daughter. In the village, traditionally everyone is invited to attend the wedding celebration which is usually held out of the church and a lebola of cattle gifted to the ladies family is absolutely required. Lebola is a price that the groom marrying pays to the bride’s family. A mutual respect is gathered between the two families, because the exchange helps the bride’s family cope from the loss of a daughter. My host-family hosted a wedding for their daughter last year and 4 cows were given for lebola. This ancient tradition of gifting cattle is being challenged as families move to the suburbs and instead lebola is being gifted in the form of money, televisions, or anything the bride’s family requests.

For most South African black’s weddings, the money put toward feeding all that attend is rather grand (at least two of the lebola cattle is killed for the event, in addition goats and chicken are usually served). The dinners are usually self-catered by the family who is hosting the celebration. The mother depends on their “women’s society” or neighbors and colleagues to assist them in the preparation and waiting of the meal made of plenty salads-one always being a delicious beet salad, and then other combinations, I don’t think I’ve seen the same salad twice! A mix of cubed cheese, apple, corn, and mayo was my favorite at this occasion!

With sometimes 2 or 3 days of celebrating, everyone in the wedding party and immediate family is found exhausted. Families travel from afar, staying up all night to celebrate and dance, crashing finally on a woven mat, warmed by a lush blanket (usually provided by the family hosting). These gatherings take place at the communities of both the bride and groom’s parents, following one another. A White wedding (where the bride is dressed in white with modern wedding traditions that most Americans are familiar with) is usually followed by a Traditional wedding, when the bride, groom, and wedding party change attire to do another grand entrance. The look of the tented area is also transformed, center pieces are exchanged and draping on the chairs and walls are all changed into the “traditional” theme.

I stay in the land of the isNdebele people and so I am fairly familiar with our traditions and clothing customs. On this occasion the ceremony was that of Sepedi people who have their own traditions unique to their culture. The Sepedi language is closely connected to the Setswana and Sesotho languages and I greeted the elders with the small bit I learned in pre-service training. Sepedi attire is drastically different from that of the isNdebele and I was most interested in seeing their “traditional” vibrant colored outfits. Women wear a baby-doll style dress with lace and pattern and complete the crafty masterpiece with stringing beads around their neck that are usually large and colorful an absolutely fabulous accessory to their already breathtaking outfits. The mix of colors is miraculous on the dark skin and for sure a white girl could not pull it off quite so beautifully.

The traditional wedding entrance involves a wedding couple and party costume change and dance alteration. Attending to detail each lady and man can be seen sporting a unique Sepedi number. The men dressed in these loud colors are especially full of pride. This wife and husband resemble the African Queen and King I have dreamed about.

Sepedi dancing I filmed

From headwrap to shoes they are adorned in their wedding theme print.

With the wedding party entry, guests hover to see and shout. This is about the time I get teary, realizing I am really here actually present in all this beauty.

firsts

April and its’ holiday break was very eventful as I participated in the Long Tom half-marathon and went hiking in the Drakensberg Mountains. Both activities were firsts and absolutely amazing!

With support from stateside friends and family I was able to qualify and raise $150 to put towards the KLM foundation and participate in the Longtom half-marathon. The KLM foundation funds a scholarship program for very talented South African learners coming from disadvantaged homes. It was very moving to be involved in such a large event and our group of 50 Peace Corps Volunteers all running for KLM was really impressive. The most amazing long legged South Africans were in abundance and I felt honored to be in the presence of such talented athletes. Sabie and this marathon attracts a great number of participants because of the glorious Long Tom Pass, one of Mpumalanga Province’s most scenic areas. All but two of our PC bunch participated in the Half-marathon: 21 km, rather than the Ultra-marathon: 56 km, and were bused to our starting point. The almost hour drive up and across the mountains, I was blown away by the beauty and overjoyed to begin. It is really grand to have received support from back home for this event and been able to give to this worthy project. I am most definitely participating next year!

PC SA 16,17,18 Long Tom marathon participants

Afterwards our group cleaned and gathered for delicious brai eats and to catch up with volunteers from other programs. Catering to our minor aches and pains we had no idea what was in-store for us the next morning and week. 6am, our group of 15 climbed aboard a hatchback and set off to a taxi rank, where we negotiated with a gentleman to take our tired, sore and cranky butts to Sani. After 10 hours of sitting in a vehicle we had arrived.

With backpacks jammed pack with travel snacks (various trail mixes, guava strips, the popular: Rusks, mouth-watering tuna packets, and peanut butter), water bottles, and thankfully first-aid kits we set off for the Giant’s Cup Trail, a self-guided, 3 day hike, that extends across the Drakensberg Mountains, the Zulu name, Ukhahlamba means “Battlement of Spears”. We passed through tall grasses, over rushing rivers, stepping this way and that through rains and sun shining days. Quite the interesting bunch, our group moved at varying paces but cared and encouraged each other as we all had our own mix of ailments. I moved along the way thinking of nothing other than how I love first times and being out in nature, venturing through this beautifully preserved land. We took water from the streams that are said to be safe despite the recent Cholera outbreaks in Zimbabwe. Rinsing my face in the cool traveling water and grasping a friend’s helpful hand, out with nature for a few days apart from lively culture; I felt cleansed by the physical activity and thoroughly enjoyed my time.

The first night, warming up to a chimney fire, eating roasted marshmallow with chocolate, we listened to favorite tunes on portable itunespeakers. The 2nd day of our hike we were lost for sometime and I was convinced we would be staying outside in the cold being unable to reach our nightspot before sun down. It was within the first 30 minutes of our day’s hike that we had lost our way. Navigating back to our trail was deemed impossible once we took to a course assumed to be ours requiring that we scale a mountain. However, we rather rewardingly discovered some fabulous San art.

The San people and their rock-art is said to be 8,000 years old and depicts all sorts of traditional survival activity-hunting, historical events-coming of the white man, and traditional gender roles. The San, already under pressure from the tribes that had moved into the Drakensberg foothills, were finally destroyed with the coming of white settlers. The San art is found in caves all around the mountains in over 500 locations. The small paintings are only able to be seen by those that take the hikes out to the areas and were only discovered within the last 50 years. By far one of the coolest historical artifacts I have ever seen.

our map-readers

After those shining moments things got a bit rough. Staring at our Topographic map, our 5 map-readers determined that our stay stop was just over the way down in the valley. However, we had no path to get down from the cave location and with having already stopped far too many times, we knew it was time to move on if we were going to get to our sleep spot in time. For 4 hours-real team work was in action, we helped one another slide down the hills, held hands and bags in support and ran ahead to ensure passage possible. Thankfully, one of the girls found the site we would stay at for the night tucked under a little place in the valley. How? I have no idea, it was dark and getting cold, I was prepared to open my sleeping bag. I had been praying to my Saint Christopher that I wore around my neck, he for sure had been watching over us.

Jo, best friend, nurse and travel planner

In all this fun, I forgot to mention that I had been suffering. Our half-marathon run, prior to our hike had been fabulous and all but rather rough on my feet. My lousy shoes and continuous on-the-go travels only added to the uncomfortable situation. My dancer-feet have been worn down before but not like this. I am very thankful for the imitation nurses in our group, pulling together all the med equipment, assisting me with mending my wounds. On our travels back, I returned to headquarters for medical care and was told that my feet and their sores were both infected and was placed on antibiotics. I am well-recovered and running almost everyday. As the rain starts to pour down, I suppose an indoor yoga session will do just fine for today.

a love for reading

I found out that there was a Shopaholic movie out only a week ago; I don't get to see many advertisements. When I heard about it, I immediately made a timeline as to when I could see it (movies are one of my new found favorite first world activities). My sister, Carly and I had a very serious obsession with the series when we were in University.

I figured I could find time when I am in the capital in two weeks time for a literacy conference at headquarters. Then I ran into my buddy Mjama and he had just got a visit from his American mother, who brought him a few movies. So I watched Confessions of a Shopaholic a bit ago.

I totally annoyed my host-sister Lungile reminiscing about my love affair with the books. Lungile is a big reader, so totally got it! I now feed her a chapter book a day, very healthy grade 5 habit. I proudly steal (liberate) books from wherever I find them, my school libs or friend's libs. She giggles when she reads, I love it. One of my favorite things is to see young children laugh when they are listening to a story read by educators in home-language or like Lungile have something to read alone. So into the moment they irrupt with emotion. When I am observing educators and assisting in the classroom at my one school, I can be discouraged for most of the morning but once the educator grabs a book to read to the learners and their smile finally turns on, I am back in the present and happy to be a part of their day and its learning.

Grade 1 Educator, N.V. reading to learners

Recently, in searching my comp for old education files, I discovered a most talented Tess Leyser's paper about read-alouds. It reminded me how very valuable the skills I am teaching educators here are. The first skill I teach educators during one-on-one sessions is reading to their learners. Unfortunately, I don't find that flashing research helps to influence educators. Instead, the educators and I discuss why reading can be valuable and what resources we have available to us. I have gained their faith and trust, although I may be 30 years younger and 30 years less experienced than them. They humor me and attempt my peculiar requests and perform fabulously. My encouragement and continued review reassure them and we have another success story.

What I can do

I have agreed to start a resource room for learner intervention in Literacy. Educators have identified learners to receive special attention in English language, reading and writing. The room identified as a library, in which I had organized textbooks in, had also acted as a staff lounge for two educators. The educators have agreed to graciously move (quite a change for them, I am very pleased they are willing) and the room is being cleared for me to begin my work with learners following Easter holiday.

It was in last year September that I first entered this very room. What I found was a room stacked to the ceiling with text, their spines to the wall. I think any American would have jumped for joy in discovering this mess of black and white, crisp, untouched pages. The librarian in me and forever-organizer dressed in a long skirt would daily climb the high book cases, throw the boxes down and begin to toss books around the room, what I swore to room-owners was actually order. The dust kicked up and I was accused of turning the room into a mess. I tried to quickly skim books, find their copyright and recognize what would have to be removed (despite Educator preference) because their date told me they were from the Apartheid Era, a time when learner materials would designate the whites as the superior race or present ineffective techniques to teaching(recite and repeat, also known as bantu education). Many Educators prefer using the teaching manuals they had followed for the last 20+ years and I had come in and declared these items as useless. This here is my first PCV mistake, I should have had educators sort with me, but I am pretty sure that the same disagreements would have still occurred. Oh well, lesson noted.
untouched Library room once organized, new cupboard units fixed on ground,soon to come..pic of room decorated

It took much time for me to realize the work I had ahead of me, the books and me. Months since, I now understand that it is more than correct placement and ridding of historically-inappropriate reading material. I find there to be a divide in our appreciation and interest for these items. The educators did not have text in their classrooms when they were students, nor did their teacher trainings include an introduction to these items (thank you previous regime). I have since been holding workshops and working one-on-one with Educators about the benefits of using print in the classroom and providing techniques for using the text. I explain that 2nd language English learners are in need of more visual representation and overall stimulation in the classroom. Some of the books are at a much-too-high level for English 2ndlanguage learners and so it is also suggested that Educators use a text sometimes two grade-levels below that they are teaching. I recognize that organizing a room of books doesn’t increase educator curiosity or book value and am now moving towards helping what can be helped.

In addition to telling the Educators about classroom practices, I will start to model a few for them in the resource room. I am pleased that Educators seem enthusiastic to learn more, Educators are curious to see how I teach and will be encouraged to visit my room daily. Don’t worry, I am not naïve in recognizing that this work will be very complicated for me(a non-native speaker) and that Educators may still not care to adapt the techniques I demonstrate. As in any situation, it is much simpler to blame others and have someone do it for you then to take on the act of changing or improving one’s self. Educators may have a tendency to over-identify learners with barriers-so that I can take care of their problems, but I will try my best to use a variety of self-made assessments to designate learner need. It is hoped that further identification will allow some learners to return to their typical classroom learning and then educators can use effective educating practices of their own.
grade 1 learners in inclusive setting
SA is unique in that it has supported so many fabulous policies since it became a new nation. Inclusive education along with equal rights for gays and lesbians are just some of the promises their new constitution holds. However because the democracy is still young and resources are limited, some implementation is only beginning in some of the rural school districts or underserved areas during the Apartheid era. Teacher training including methods of identifying learners with special needs has been introduced this year. The extent has been one training, one educator attended and a booklet examining their SIAS system that imitates our system. I am very pleased to have had completed my Masters in Inclusive Strategies for General Education, have a fairly good understanding of work in this field and have the ability to assist educators.

I originally wasn't interested in working one-on-one with learners with special needs here since the system is so pre-mature. Especially since it is hoped our projects will be sustainable beyond our service and training educators would allow for this type of impact. However, I have decided I can still hold my weekly workshops to explain effective educating and one-on-one intervention with educators, in-addition to having my own room for practice and educator observations.
an educator created visual :Bithdays chart
I knew I wasn't interested in teaching because having my own class in Ghana was much too difficult, little respect to be gained from learners that are disciplined by only corporal punishment, doesn't matter what the classroom management you present, you are still an outsider and the only one sometimes (in most schools) working with a new discipline system. A classroom of 60 learners with limited English is also just a sticky situation for a non-native speaker. Instead I will take in 15-20 learners at a time and provide help and attention. We will see what comes of it all.

I am excited to have my own space and be able to give these learners the attention they absolutely rarely receive. Learners usually with any sort of disability are found in the back of the room, completely ignored (I have seen grade 6 learners that only write the number 1 because that was all that was required of them). I was shocked to see that some educators would just avoid communicating at all with some learners. There are some "special schools" (as they are called) where the severely disabled learn (however these sometimes are in very poor condition and equally unfair to learners). It is hoped that record keeping of learner progress may ensure that the learners receive services appropriate to their abilities, hopefully someone that is qualified in the area of learners with special needs, can come to our school and work permanently and replace me.
learners in a que to wack a pole at numeracy assignment on the board
My room will possibly hold a bit of music, as well as use of technology, (if our computer lab ever comes about-comps are 10 years old and have been in a store room because the strong room hasn't been built). We have a copy machine and books though, so I will use resources to work out the challenges, like it is thought will answers our problems in the rural villages. Little do the providers know that for now it is the American girl that strongly values text and resources?

The lands of Africa

Hot, dry, and so much suffering, is that what comes to mind when you hear Africa?

Just like North America, Africa is a large and a diverse continent. Some parts of Africa are very lush with vegetation and the rainy seasons give way to a great deal of harvesting opportunity too. In SA this income-generating partnership is set and well, the demand in the western world is so grand for fruits and veg, and there is potential to expand what is already a flourishing business. So what is stopping it? In my opinion, there is a great amount of opportunity held in the areas formerly titled, “home lands”. Some of these lands are already prospering with grand farms. However other lands, due to the strategic nature of the past’s segregation are located in areas without road ways with adequate transport or a secure passage of water and lands are therefore barren.

Roads and Water
I am seeing some development/construction (although that which is in working progress is found in large cities to prepare for the 2010 World Cup). In other lands there are only billboards promising development. Incomplete tar roads are the norm and everyone rationalizes that the large rock/boulder prevents such work to continue. Water turns off sporadically. But frequent enough that a resident may be able to find some likeness in the schedule (rumor has it-that the heavy rains cause a lyme build-up preventing water-passage). Because the rains also have an odd schedule, even resident home-gardens suffer. And so begins the cycle of suffering.

It is these smaller villages that have a high unemployment rate due to their distant proximity from more developed cities (notice that it appears the Apartheid regime has made an impression out-living its’ fall). Transport to the large cities can be small, unreliable, and expensive. Few are able to make their way out to work or attend school in these areas where it is located and therefore stay as they are, sometimes unable to provide for themselves or families. This link of suffering is true in several other African countries too. Transport in SA is substantially better off than any other African countries, but then we are the country with the highest HIV/AIDS rate, and that is affecting, causing a decline in labor productivity.

first world collides with third world,
electricity but lack of water,
street outside my place

If Struggling to Survive then Low Motivation
People can live a simple life, sometimes with a small garden, and this is accepted by their community anyways. Unless it is a community-wide overhaul, a decision to jump into a large scale money-making business-such as farming, will then be looked down upon because individualism just isn't a wide-accepted concept in the rural villages. And most community members are not aware of the outside support available for these types of projects.
There is this African potato that health officials have identified as a fighting agent against AIDS, however there are too many stories that end like this...some help was provided in the growing of a new crop in an area, but the crop died off and nothing came of it because the community never accepted it. Why no interest in knowing something new? ..but you say AIDS is their lives...Actually, no it is not....few use the phrase and no one has a death certificate directly stating it. Why should this African potato have any value. What I have been told is that South Africans have strong family values which protect sharing personal information such as so-in-so died and had been living with AIDS, even if this means helping a community. And introducing such an outside item (in this situation-African potato) may be taking away from "culture". Something many fought for, and what for many lost their lives. Culture is what we may say defines South African’s existence (especially since cultural segregation, was meant to ultimately defy growth). Food is traditional and meals for the most part are not to be altered, because then the act may be misinterpreted as correcting rather than helping. Doesn't matter the age, people are “grandma and pap”-set in their ways, as they rightly should be since it has been a challenging journey.

Helping
But ask the people what they need most, and while you pass through a dozen ridiculous needs (that closely resemble wants), somehow cast your own perceptions aside, and you will find where the need is and only then can you begin to plan with the community what you can do to help this effort. In training, two men presented to our group about their work surrounding the issue of HIV/AIDS. They told us how they had gone to villages and had condoms blessed by Insongas (traditional healers) to help with community acceptance. And they had provided condoms to villages who said their needs were held in water transportation and that is exactly how they then advised community members to use the condoms, and they did just that, and successfully.

Another story of What is GRASSROOTS DEVELOPMENT..someone came into a community and built a well for easier access to water. But the women of the village ignored well and continued on their daily routes to the river, way, way down the way. Why? Because the travel to the river was their social hour. It was the one activity that provided them time away from their homes, husbands, and children, an opportunity to chat with their friends, something they looked forward to, and cherished. The well would be unable to provide such a thing.

History is still a bit near. But one day, with equal distribution of whatever is needed, then the good, will grow and help all this suffering.

look out from my house

Note on gifting Haley in SA:

I have received several inquiries concerning items to be sent this side. If you are interested in sending me something or advising someone of what can be sent, I’ve noted a list of items that I would like, but really, I would most appreciate some LETTERS/EMAILS and or your support in funding the LONGTOM half-marathon I will participate in at the closing of March.
The race benefits learners in need of financial support, Peace Corps South Africa annually supports by participating in the event and I will be required to raise the 100 USD to support the KLM Foundation. I have posted below the link to follow and place your support payment via PayPal. I promise the means of contributing are easy and legit.
(Please visit www.KLM-FOUNDATION.ORG)

But otherwise there is a list of my likes to the RIGHT.

in motion

bus stop at my place

Interterm-service training took place at the closing of January, marking a completed 6 months in South Africa. Within this time we have been sworn in as official volunteers, have had 11 Peace Corps Volunteers early terminate service in our cohort, I have traveled to two other Provinces of SA, PC has gained a new Country director, and I have met dozens of new people and made even more friends. The list will continue to grow within the next coming 20 months, but already it is apparent how really grand this time is and will continue to be even once I return. I am exhausted most days, from giving my very all. Communicating is tiresome but I think continuing to push my self whether in target language (IsiNdebele) or English, to build relationships and really understand the persons I am serving, the better my work is and the larger an impact I really can make.




Meet Molly Murphy
It is even within this months training alongside PC Volunteers that I realize how fortunate I am to call these Americans my friends. I appreciate our close conversations and their willingness to open up to further my growth. The assistance and support we offer one-another is like nothing I have ever experienced. I know that these will be life long friends.

Traveling back from a visit to Pretoria (capital) where I can enjoy an Italian cuisine, a bottle of wine with American friends, and a warm shower, I fall exhausted into my bus seat after standing at the bus station for 6 hours, waiting for a bus to arrive.

A large duffel bag packed to its capacity, a plastic bag that is double-bagged to hold the 10 books brought from the Peace Corps office library, and a Shop-Rite environmental initiative cold bag filled with great food (chedder cheese, tuna, broccoli, cucumber) all of which are difficult to find so close to home sit on my lap, provide a great cushion for my worried mind to relax and breath for the moments that seem to pass so quickly from first world to third world. 15 minutes into the drive, I am tapped on the shoulder by a friend. Many of the people I am driving with work or stay in Pretoria and so have never seen me in their village nor have heard of me and so it is this depart home that can be particularly frustrating as no one understands why I (a white) am choosing to wait and travel to the “other side” down the way. My friend is Nhlanhla and she is the head of the School Governing Body of the primary school I work at. She is 18 and is the head chair board member. She has a compassion for leading and helping others and having only just completed her Metric (12th grade graduating tests) she is determined to begin a life in nursing or the police force(she ventured to PTA to look for work that afternoon). Evidently, I just woke from a short nap and my voice is horse from all the excited time with friends during training, but I know it must be done- I am ready to use this opportunity to get to know this talented young person. This opportunity placed next to me will make for easy conversation rather than sought out, and formal guest appearance at her parent’s home. We are both relaxed and I know that our conversation will be able to meet such deep subjects as love and areas of opportunity in SA. She slides in next to me and our conversation graces the topics of the best persons in her life, her thoughts on increased rape rates in SA, and her tendency to mother her younger sister.

Two of my community counterparts (Laurence and Nhlanhla)
performing a drama at a Lifeskills training conference

The connection I am able to make with her is based on our similar home lives( yes a suburban from Ohio and a South African can both love their mothers and have big dreams) and our 5 year age difference matters very little. Nhlanhla desire to go after her dreams despite barriers, displaying her true maturity which is beyond what I ever held at her age. Realizing that this is not an ordinary teen and that the compassion this lady holds for development in her community is aligned with the empowerment a leader of any one of the programs I which to begin must hold, I am quick to figure what I can do with this information, now. Recently, I had spoken with a PCV at the backpackers about her work in lifeskills and peer educator training. She left me with two manuals she is using and only moments early waiting in the bus line, I had flipped through them. And it was in the heat of our discussion, that I pulled one of the manuals back out and handed it over to Nhlanhla. Informing her that I was interested in involving some youth in this project and I thought she would be the perfect person to work on it with me. There are rare opportunities that just hand themselves to you. However, at those moment, you must tell yourself to leap forward even if it is influenced by the seconds flighty feeling. There is enough time spent in your room pondering the answers to the worlds problems, this moment is worth missing an opportunity of processing. That is a successful moment, in this journey, and there are many more like it, and I am confident this is how this “development work” plays out. These small opportunities usually lend themselves to a full day of difficulties, and why being here and doing this is worth all the tiredness and strain your brain faces each day.

holiday and arrival of 2009

Many months since my last blogging, I want to apologize, I just received my lovely lap top from super friend Erin Gannon, you all have this beautiful Ohio lady to thank for strengthening our communication!

Within the last months, I have had the extraordinary opportunity to vacation coastal Zululand of South Africa(KwaZulu-Natal Province) and Swaziland, have attended further PC training, and returned to site for the start of another school year.

VACATION
Our east coast tour using Baz-bus(a hop-on hop-off door to door bus service)picked us from Pretoria (capital city in Gauteng Province, 70k from my permanent site) and we traveled to the following over 14 days.
1.)Ezulwini Valley, SWAZILAND(one of the smallest countries in Africa, relaxing, rich in culture, it has now surpassed Botswana as the country with the world’s highest HIV infection rate in the world-around 39% of the adult population in Swaziland is HIV positive, reasons include: more Swazis work in SA and those left behind wives or gf are particularly at risk, cultural practices-widow inheritance, decline in polygamy has led to more ‘informal’ relations outside marriage, stigma attached to AIDS hindering flow of communication and hampering prevention efforts)

2.)St. Lucia, SOUTH AFRICA and it’s wetland park(Lake St Lucia itself is Africa’s largest estuary(what is an estuary? We asked the same thing; check out this def. estuary=),
3.)Hluhluwe Park, SOUTH AFRICA( where we spotted giraffe, rhino, zebra, wart hogs, and etc.),
4.)Durban(South Africa’s third-largest city, with beachfront, and home to the largest concentration of people of Indian descent in the country)

Some small vacationing details:
During our stay we visited a Swazi ceremony-Incwala(first fruit ceremony). Kings have played a leading role in the Swazi tradition since the countries beginning. The Incwala, or first fruits ceremony is the most sacred of all the Swazi rituals. The king places the dominate role in the 4 day event. A date for the event is chosen by astrologers in conjunction with the phase of the moon and sun (usually in December or January).
Most males in attendance dressed appropriately in animal skin and held a tall stick. Given you were a member of the royal family you wore a crown of red feathers in your head signifying your relation to the King. The lourie is a clever and cunning bird; its red wing feathers symbolize intelligence and royalty. Elders also wore some sort of hairy over top that made their shoulders appear very broad. Some males also held the traditional shield and spear. The shield depicts racial harmony and is also part of the weaponry of the soldiers from World War II.

At first during the new moon, the “Bemanti” (people of the water) journey to the Indian Ocean to collect water. At the full moon, youths from all parts of the kingdom travel to collect sacred branches of the “lusekwane” shrub, a species of acacia. A bull is slaughtered by the youths on the third day to instill solidarity among them and spirit of valour. It is the fourth day when the King gathers in full ceremonial dress, joining his warriors in traditional dance. The Swaziland King entrance was grand and involved the nations instrumental band and army presentations. Even the policemen on duty were dressed in traditional garb with gun holster at waist. Positioned every couple yards the policemen faced attendants and did not break their stern stares. Entering a special sanctuary the King participates in further rituals and then finally eats the first fruits of the season. Following the Kings greeting, men shuffled inside the tall thatched gathering circle for traditional dance. Women were ushered through earlier at a side entrance, most of which would be the dance entertainment prior to fruit feasting. Of the 2,000 person crowd only about 200 were permitted to gather inside. Certain parts of the Incwala may not be witnessed by outside people and it is vital to have a permit to take photographs within the proximity of the royal cattle byre.

Adventure Caving in Swazi. Geared in our white jumpsuits, hard hats and hip held battery powered head lamps we ventured up to the site at 5pm for night caving. Once we reached our destination, (an hour hike up hill), we were given our precautionary talk and I quit my incessant conversing. Fortunately, our guide sensed my nervousness and placed me directly behind him for our cave travels. Bending this way and that way, I had to mimic his acrobatic movements to get myself through the tight squeezes. Diving into shallow cold waters and rock climbing in the dark, I did my share of screams and complaining about the need for knee pads and hand coverings. When told that we had a choice between the easy exit and the challenging one, I was peer pressured into the challenge. I am sure my crew that followed enjoyed my interpretation of the guide’s moves. I had trouble following his technique for each nose dive. I called on my buddies to rotate my hip holster for me and push my behind through the crevices, as I advised them of the fearful left side they must beware of when passing. We concluded our caving and then headed down the hill in the dark, I felt much more comfortable in my footing having survived the caving and not fallen into the deep unknown of the cave.
Meeting with fellow PCV’s for Christmas in St.Lucia and New Years in Durban was among the many highlights of this vacation. I have returned with a hand weaved basket that the Zulu people are known for, a musical instrument from the Indian market, and a beaded bracelet. I felt the fullness of a neighboring country that wasn’t subject to apartheid evilness, and the joy accompanied with moving freely after 4 months of sedentary living.