Undoubtedly, this has been my second best week of my semester in South Africa so far.
My week of travelling began at 6AM on Saturday when I took a taxi to the Cape Town airport. I had gotten to the airport a tad too early, but I did get through the security check very quickly. On the plane heading to Jo’burg, I leafed through the in-flight magazine and read an article on the lexicon of South African English. Currently, I’ve more or less taken this as a sign that, if I ever come back to South Africa for research purposes, I would indeed come back to study just that. Thesis-wise, I posit that South African English will one day become a national identifier in saying what makes a South African a South African, as exemplified by such words as ‘né,’ ‘bra/bru,’ and ‘braai.’ Moreover, I believe that words from both Afrikaans and the Nguni languages are infused through the lexicon (dictionary) of South African English, thus preserving the cultural nuances of these ethnic languages. Should these languages ever die out (which I would never hope for), they would to some extent still exist within the resistant-dominant English used in South Africa.
Within two hours, I arrived at the airport at Jo’burg and was picked up by Willy (pronounced ‘Villy’) from Diamond Diggers and returned to Diamond Diggers, the orientation site for our SIT programme. It was great to be back there, and I definitely felt accustomed to South Africa enough that I had very little fear in walking around the streets by Diamond Diggers by myself. That first night, I met two girls from London (who seemed to have brought potentially their entire DVD collection with them), a guy from London who has great plans for helping out kids either in Zimbabwe or South Africa (maybe both), and a guy from Paris. Due to the long day of travelling around (plus the incredible heat of Jo’burg), I just spent the day relaxing at Diamond Diggers, after taking a grocery trip at the nearby mall.
On Sunday, I went by myself to SOWETO to revisit Regina Mundi, a historically famous Catholic church. My only complaint of the day was the unset prices from Kensington (suburb of Jo’burg where Diamond Diggers is located) to SOWETO; as a result, it ended up being the second most expensive travel expense (the plane ticket cost about 200 rand more). Despite that, it was quite a moving experience, even more so than the first time I went there with our SIT group. I had expected the Mass to be in English, and was thus surprised to find myself at a completely Xhosa service. Thankfully I had been to Xhosa services before and was ready for the long service; thankfully the order of Mass is more or less standardised so I was able to follow along. After the service, I looked for the priest with the hope I could interview him; unfortunately he had a Zulu Mass to get ready for, so our interview will have to be via telephone. I was quite intrigued at that point what Regina Mundi as a parish is all about, as neither Xhosa or Zulu are mentioned on the Mass schedule on-line. In any case, I took a quick look around the church as Xhosa-speakers were leaving and Zulu-speakers were entering. Finally, I got to see the three things I had hoped to see the first time we went to the church: the Black Madonna up-close, the bullet holes in the ceiling and the handless Christ statue (the last two of which I had read about over the summer). [Towards the latter half of the apartheid years, gatherings of 10+ blacks were considered as conspiracies against the government and therefore banned. The only groups that were exempt from this were churches. Thus, people met in churches to talk politics, but under the guise and safety of spiritual gatherings. One day, out of contempt for God, etc., police forces stormed Regina Mundi, releasing tear gas canisters, shooting bullet holes in the ceilings and cutting off Christ's hands as if to say 'your God has no hands... who can save you now?' After the reconstruction of the church, people still continue to visit this historic site. You can still see bullet holes in the ceilings, left behind to remind people of what happened there. (ref. Yaw Perbi)] As I went closer to the statue of Christ, arms outstretched, I felt myself getting smaller and shrinking in the statue’s presence. It was indeed a chilling experience, but one that I had anticipated since I knew I would be coming to South Africa.
The next day, I planned to go to Pretoria and for 400 rand, was able to do so. By far, this was my most important research day, as I only had a span of about six hours to get to everything I wanted to do. Mandla, a Diamond Diggers driver got me safely to Pretoria and pointed out a few sites, especially given that he ‘s also a tour guide. My day in Pretoria started off with an interview with Archbishop George Daniel (he confirmed that he’s the same archbishop mentioned in the book I’m reading on the Sharpeville Six, They’re Burning the Churches; this book is perhaps the single text that steered me toward my current research topic). After the interview, I checked my voice recorder and one of the second worst things that could happen happened: my recorder stopped recording. Luckily, a good majority of the interview was on there. Leaving the Chancery, I headed for the Khanya House, the site of the South African Catholic Bishops Conference. There, I met a very friendly and helpful woman, Anne, who invited me to come back and look through the archives should I need anymore information. I purchased the current collection of The Bishops Speak, which should have a lot of the ‘official’ opinions of the Catholic church on such issues as apartheid and language policy. Finally, I concluded my day in Pretoria with a visit to the National Cultural History Museum. The adult entrance fee is R20; the student entrance fee is R12, the difference of which I used to buy a very good ham and cheese grilled sandwich in the café. The museum was very easy to navigate and their was quite a bit to see for being a relatively small museum. The first exhibit I saw reminded me very much of my art history research last semester. Back at Diamond Diggers, I met the first wave of Americans outside the SIT programme, and ended the night watching a 90s version of Romeo and Juliette.
Tuesday morning, Emmanuel (the French guy) and I went to Sandton, the site of Nelson Mandela Square. We spent a good part of the day walking around Sandton and the nearby city of Sandowne?, checking out the architecture. All over the cities, snake-light sculptures could be found; it must be a great sight to see at night. Within our four-ish hours there, we went through three malls and an open-air market; the only thing I bought was food and airtime. J As I was cooking my dinner, I met the second wave of Americans. Later that evening, S.J. came to visit me at Diamond Diggers, as he lived nearby, ‘across the valley.’ After catching up over the past few days and talking about some of the most random things, I met his mom and they both went back home. As I was leaving Diamond Diggers the next day, I decided to sleep a bit early.
On Wednesday, I decided rather late to visit the cathedral in Jozie and got to the Catholic Cathedral of Christ the King just in time. Afterwards, I went to the chancery and spoke to a few people about the language question and what this meant for the Church, particularly in Johannesburg. I was able to purchase an explanation of the Roman Missal and the response to it by the South African Catholic Bishops Conference. I find it quite important that there is indeed a great deal of work put into enculturation and inclusion of the ethnic communities within the standardized English service. I also saw, for the first time in-person, an Africanised crucifix, in the chancery. I then went to Park Station, where I soon got on the bus heading for Bloemfontein. The bus left for (and reached) Bloemfontein on-time (a six hour ride); at the station, I was greeted by taxi drivers ready to go; Gertjie drove me to the cathedral presbytery. I was greeted at the door by Fr. Leo, who showed me to my room (which was marked as reserved for Mark Arceno). Apart from my room in Stellenbosch, I think this may have been one of the biggest rooms I’ve had to myself. After a long day of activities and travelling, I slept quite well that night.
There was, however, a period of time when I couldn’t sleep and by the time I got back to sleep and woke up again, I realised I had missed breakfast. I eventually decided to get up and walk downstairs. In the dinner room, I met Carmel, a retired teacher from Ireland who came to South Africa with her family to volunteer to teach English at a Catholic school in Bloemfontein. I then met the cook and the parish secretary, followed by Carmel’s husband, Joe, who invited me to join them to see some lions. As I had nothing else to do that morning, I gratefully joined them. I met their youngest daughter, Aoife (a French and music major), and we went with one of the school drivers to pick up two Belgian priests, a young priest from Germany and the principal of the grade school, all of whom would be joining us on the mini-safari trip. It truly was a multilingual group! At the reserve park, we received the unfortunate news that the lions weren’t being fed that day. Nevertheless, we were able to see the three lionnesses relatively close-up (but still within our combi), followed by three cheetahs in a separate portion of the park, which were having a field day chowing down on some animal’s insides. After the ride, I got dropped off at the Waterfront, yet another mall I’ve come across during my journey. It was quite overwhelming and aside from food, I think I only spent R60. I then aimed to find the movie theatre but by the time I walked around the Rose Garden and picnic areas, I realised the theatre was only a few steps away from where I ate lunch and I was late for all of the movie showing. From there, then, I made my way back to the presbytery and took a bit of a nap when I got back. Later, I joined the Irish family, Fr. Leo and Fr. Nolan for dinner. Following the dinner, I was finally able to meet with Ananja, the youngest daughter of two of the host parents back in Stellenbosch. Maureen and I were supposed to have stayed with them, but eventually got resifted to different families. When I told them I would be Bloemfontein, they suggested I try and get in contact with Ananja and luckily everything worked out. Guided by Tommie, they found the presbytery and from there, Ananja and I went to the Euro Caffé at Mimosa Mall. It was quite an interesting experience going to a mall at night when all of the other shops were closed. Mimosa is closer in proximity to the University of the Free State, and thus the majority of the people in the mall were university students. Apparently, the mall itself is open from 9am to ‘late.’
On my last big day of travelling alone, I interviewed Fr. Leo and talked about religion, language, academia, and the like, for quite a bit of time. Of all the days, I would peg this one as the most informative days of research thus far. At half-12, Ananja and Tommie picked me up at the presbytery and took me to Oliewenhuis, perhaps the only art museum in the Free State of its kind. After looking through the galleries, we went to Vida E Caffe, where I had a great chilled chocolate drink and some dark chocolate. I then made it back in time for my interview with Mr. Brislin, S.J.’s uncle. I had another wonderful interview with him and now find myself having quite a bit to transcribe. Luckily, both of the day’s interviews were saved in their entirety. After doing a little packing following the interview, I went to the dining room to find that there wasn’t any actual dinner at the presbytery that evening. I came across the Irish family again, and they invited me to join them. As soon as we got out of the taxi, I found out that it was Joe’s birthday. They definitely were too kind to let me join in on his celebratory day. We ended up eating at Spur, and talked about religion, identity, ethnicity, nationalism, language, and the rest of that lot, inevitably coming to the decision that it’s all so very complicated. Indeed, it is, and that’s why I love research in those areas! At the end of the dinner, two further signs of Irish generosity came through my meal being paid for as an Irish treat (despite the fact that it was Joe’s birthday to begin with), followed by the luck of the Irish in finding a ring that I had dropped during dinner. Back at the presbytery, we exchanged e-mails and then I was off to the bus station to head back to Cape Town. While I waited for the bus to arrive, Gertjie, the guy who drove me to the presbytery two nights ago, found me sitting in the indoor café, remembered me, and after a few (positive) verbal exchanges, was off to wait for another taxi run. I’m now back at Cape Town at Kolbe House, nearly fifteen hours later, finishing up this blog entry.
This has been one of my best weeks so far this semester.
samedi 22 novembre 2008
samedi 15 novembre 2008
Hyuu! It's work time!
I'm quite frustrated with myself that I wasn't able to keep up a set of proper journal entries, but these past few weeks have flown by so fast! We had spent a week in the Bo Kaap with the so-called "Coloured" population and, unfortunately, much of my time was spent studying and writing up my capstone assignment on monolingualism and the Catholic Church. Coincidentally (?), my ISP research is on multilingualism and the Catholic Church. At the end of our stay, we mvoed to our new ISP homes, for me, the first of many homes.
It's been an awesome experience for this first week, though I must say that much of it has felt more like a time of retreat than anything else. My first location was Kolbe House, the Catholic Chaplaincy at UCT, where I met some of the most amazing people I've come across so far in South Africa. Many aren't originally from here, so it was cool to learn about their cultures and how they try to navigate their identities within South Africa. I really formed some great friendship there that I hope to continue for a while; I feel that my connections with Kolbe are currently so strong that a return to South Africa in the near-future doesn't feel to be out of the question. When I go back home, there'll definitely be many stories to share about Kolbe, among some of them being my attempt at dredlocks, my voyage to Rhodes Memorial, my alien encounters and Hillsong.
It's been an awesome experience for this first week, though I must say that much of it has felt more like a time of retreat than anything else. My first location was Kolbe House, the Catholic Chaplaincy at UCT, where I met some of the most amazing people I've come across so far in South Africa. Many aren't originally from here, so it was cool to learn about their cultures and how they try to navigate their identities within South Africa. I really formed some great friendship there that I hope to continue for a while; I feel that my connections with Kolbe are currently so strong that a return to South Africa in the near-future doesn't feel to be out of the question. When I go back home, there'll definitely be many stories to share about Kolbe, among some of them being my attempt at dredlocks, my voyage to Rhodes Memorial, my alien encounters and Hillsong.
lundi 3 novembre 2008
A LLOONNGG UPDATE
4 October 2008
Well, we’ve now reached the point in the journey when it’s time to leave Langa. Yesterday, I said a temporary good-bye to my host family (as we’ll be returning for two nights in mid-October) and left with the rest of my classmates and Nomawethu to Tschabo, a rural village near the cities of Berlin and East London. As we drove past the cities and began getting deeper and deeper into wooded areas, it really hit me that we’re really in South Africa. We passed the hills to our left and those in our van began to sing and dance to African/spiritual music. With this in mind, we pulled in front of Nowawe High School and were enthusiastically greeted by our homestay mamas, their hands waving in the air and giant smiles on their faces; for me, at least, it was a rather emotional experience of utter joy and happiness. They were definitely as excited (if not even more so) as us to begin the rural homestay.
After introducing ourselves and meeting the homestay mamas, we soon departed to our new homes for the upcoming week. Rather than go into the homestay alone, we were all told that we would sign ourselves up in pairs. Back in Rondebosch, Collin and I sign up as a homestay pair and I couldn’t be happier with the way things have worked out so far. Of the many things to get used to, language communication has perhaps been one of the most difficult yet most important. In the rural villages, especially, families are highly proficient in one language, and in our case, Xhosa. When we got to the house, we met one of Mama’s grandsons, Thembi. To my amazement, he spoke to us in very good English and was able to show us around Tschabo and help us to get oriented with daily life in Tschabo. One of the things I quickly had to get oriented to was the use of the outhouse, a cultural experience on its own special level. In actuality, it’s not too bad; it also doesn’t hurt that the cattle and goats are nearby. We also met Luto, a nearby neighbour who has been equally helpful with the transition to Tschabo.
On our walk around Tschabo, the four of us (Collin, Luto, Thembi and I) stopped by the houses of many of our classmates and after about an hour or so of walking, we made our way to an open field for a pick-up game of soccer. When we got back, around 6:30p, we went back outside to help bring in the cattle and goats. The sun was getting ready to set and it gracefully illuminated the surrounding villages; it was such a wonderful sight. It was equally as cool to see Thembi directing the cattle back to the house. With a single word and a few hand gestures, as if mechanically, the cattle made their way back home without further instruction to do so. Back into the house, perhaps a little after 7pm, we all ate dinner, with Thembi’s grandfather and his grandfather’s cousin. (Some time before then, Collin, Luto, Thembi and I watched sang some songs and watched a few Mariah Carey music videos, one of which Collin and Luto danced to). After dinner, Collin and I presented our homestay gifts, the response to one of the gifts (a boxed set of fifty games) being a request to teach them how to play the games (Mama really liked the Target bag). We soon got ready for bed and brushed our teeth outside. Back in the house, Collin went to sleep as I taught Thembi how to play Bingo in the kitchen. We were all asleep by 11-ish.
At 6:30am, the rooster began to crow… and crow he did for about an hour and a half, signalling me to finally get up. For the first time, I tasted porridge, the consistency of which I seem to be having some trouble getting down. After, I washed up in a basin (something I can’t recall ever doing), but faced the question as to how I should wash my hair. I finally decided to go outside and wash my hair directly under the tap; Maureen and Hayley just happened to walk right on by as I was getting ready to wash my hair, and as I was doing so, Maureen took pictures of « An American Washing His Hair » (or something to that effect). The pictures turned out pretty well. After I finished getting ready for the day, I went into the kitchen and found Mama kneading some dough. She was making fat cakes and pan cakes. I finally figured out how to properly say Ndingakunceda?, and in response to my inquiry, she let me help her cook the fat cakes. Unsurprisingly, the fat cakes reminded me of the States, as they tasted just like beignets, only without the powdered sugar on top.
Everyone met at the school at 10a to talk to Mr. Yaka, our homestay coordinator in Tschabo. For about two hours fifteen, we asked him various questions regarding rural life in Tschabo. Afterwards, we walked down to Dongwe, a neighbouring village, and the homestay site for four of our group. We went to one of the houses and greeted everyone in the one-room, six-cornered house. After stepping out for a bit to visit a pair of our classmates’ house, we returned to watch a ritual that was part of a continued ceremony for the slaughtering of an ox (the meat of the ox hadn’t finished cooking when we first got there). We sat on a hill overlooking the kraal, which was later explained to me that the kraal was considered holy ground and accessible to only the immediate members of the family that owned the house. We sat next to a group of women, a few of which were amagqirha, as denoted by their face paintings, and who sang as part of the ritual out of the house to the kraal. There, we joined in on the feast and (I didn’t expect to say this, but) the ox tasted REALLY good; it was perhaps the best tasting meat I’ve had since I’ve been here, and I’ve had some great-tasting meat in South Africa.
On the way back home, I found myself trailing behind and talked with Mr. Yaka about the bit of ceremony we witnessed, Xhosa spirituality and Christianity, and his faith. It was such a wonderful discussion that what was a 20-30 minute walk from Dongwe ended up being a personal, one hour-ish long question-and-answer session. Tomorrow, I’m planning on visiting him to continue our discussion of the parallels between African (though, specifically Xhosa) spirituality and Christianity (interesting how this fits nicely into my research, eh?).
When we got back, Collin and I watched Gremlins, which is perhaps one of the weirdest movies I’ve ever seen, while Mama did her beadwork. Yesterday, she had been working on it and said that we would be making our own on Monday (can’t wait!). While we watched the movie, we tried the pan cakes that Mama made earlier in the day which seriously tasted like pan de sal. It was so good and once again reminded me of home; we ate the bread with creamy peanut butter that added to its overall goodness. We then watched the end of Survivor and began playing chess. Midway through our game, Amy, Jenny and Jess came over for a brief visit with their sisis. We ate more pan cakes and after they left, Collin and I finished our game. In the end, I won the first game and he the second game. We then took a bit of a break and, listening to songs from American Idol and Across the Universe, got caught up with our journals. After a while, Mama told us that dinner was ready and we ate some great tasting umngqusho. As we attempted to finish the huge bowl of it, we watched a great Bernie Mac movie. Collin also received his Xhosa name, Zolani (« guy with no troubles »).
Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what’ll happen. Still on the agenda are a church service and potentially getting my hair braided.
5 October 2008
Well, I suppose I shall cut away the suspense and say that I was unable to get my hair braided today. However, I was able to attend a church service.
Today, Brittney, Ebony, Hayley, Kelsi, Lara, Maureen, Mike, Nate and I, along with Mike and Nate’s Mama, went to Tschabo 1 to celebrate a Zionist service. To get there, our Tata drove all of us, as well as a few others, (15 in total - I ended up sitting on Mike’s lap) to Tschabo 1. The service was a very interesting and welcoming experience for me, one which I really got into. (The ride over wasn’t so bad either, haha.)
We all got there about twenty after ten, and the service started about a quarter after eleven. The service was held within a single-roomed house structure, and the light blue traditional uniforms worn by the Church members signalled that they’re Zionist, the church of which blends African spirituality and Christianity. In total, the Zionists made up a little over fifty percent of us that were present. They prayed and read in Xhosa and interestingly enough (as noted in my first interview for my mini-ISP), they spoke in English in order to make sure that we understood what was going on and that we felt comfortable and welcome. From what I gathered, they read three readings followed by a gospel reading, each one distinguished by a different song/response. There were essentially three major symbols constantly present: a lighted candle, a large drum, and a circle (kept in tact as we circumscribed the house). We were later explained that, after the gospel reading (which I think was from Luke’s writing), different people from the church were taking turns explaining the meaning of the gospel (the story of which was the tax collector who climbed the tree to see Jesus), rather than having one person interpreting the story’s meaning. After the first hour, I was getting quite tired and, soon, I recognised that the music was taking over my body. This got me thinking about the notes I had written about in terms of the power of music I experienced both in the Catholic and Methodist churches in Langa. At 2pm, the service finished and we went outside where most (if not all) asked different people to take their photos. They offered us some refreshments and, by 2:30, we left. However, instead of Tata picking us up, we found ourselves walking back to Tshabo 2. It was a scenic walk, but one that took us an hour to complete.
Afterwards, Collin and I went to Dyana’s house to see if I could get my hair braided. They were finishing Elisabeth’s hair, but were then off to go back home to a neighbouring (but relatively far) village. We played « cellphones » (as opposed to Spoons) and, as the light rain came down, Collin and I left to get back home.
When we got home, we met Mama’s sons and daughters, as well as their children.
Before we all went to sleep, our new sisi, Zandile (who also has a three-month-old baby) asked Collin and I questions about our lives in the States.
10 October 2008
I’m currently writing from Buccaneers, a backpacking resort existing in a world highly separated from Tshabo. Before I continue writing about this place, here’s a brief summary of our remaining time in Tshabo:
Monday: Standing in light rain and cold wind (it really felt like I was back in the States experiencing usual weather for the this time of the year), Mr. Yaka talked to us about the paprika cooperative in place in Tshabo. In the afternoon, we all met at Brittney and Lara’s house (to be soon called the « Bead House ») to bead with our host mamas. At 8pm, Collin and I joined the rest of the family in watching Generations. Collin and I played a tie-breaker game to our chess series, which eventually ended up in a stalemate.
Tuesday: We were divided into two groups to visit different schools. The group I went with went to Nowawe High School. The nine of us there further split ourselves up into three groups of three, allowing us to collectively see more of the school. Our biggest challenge, however, was the fact that our timing brought us to the school a day after its opening from holiday and the end of a marking period. With that said, we were unable to really witness how teachers actually teach their students. Instead, we were able to speak to students about their daily life in school and within the rural setting. In one classroom, Amy, Yana and I found ourselves teaching economics to one of the classes (bearing in mind that I was the only one out of the three of us that actually took an economics class). Amy and Yana utilised logic and patterns while I tried to figure out what the acronyms on a problem we were working on stood for. In the end, all three of us worked together to fill in a part of a problem that looks as if it was part of an AP Economics exam. What confused me, however, was why it seemed that none of the stuff in the problem appeared in the text the students were using. This specific problem, as well as the others in the set, were from the East London mathematics matric preparation booklet; the resource materials the students have do not appear to really help the students with their final exam. With that said, I can only hope that it’s the teachers that make up for what the texts lack. After the schools visit, we went back home for lunch, followed by a school debriefing, which in turn was followed by a good-bye dinner cooked by all of the host mamas. The food was excellent as always and it was such a great way to end our rural homestay experience. The kids danced and sang for us while we waited for the food to be done cooking and, towards the end, they sang the National Anthem.
Right before the school debriefing, one of Zandile’s friends came to the house saying she was there to braid my hair. Unfortunately, I had to ask her to come back later, as I needed to be at the debriefing session. When we got home after the dinner and 8pm rolled by, I didn’t think she would come. We all watched Generations and, at 8:30pm, I heard someone say « I’m here to braid your hair now ». I was a little surprised that she was there; there was no turning back. I sat in the chair and she immediately got to braiding. I must say that the pain wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, except for whenever she would have to braid shorter strands (she had to pull tight in order to make sure they would braid correctly). While she was braiding my hair, Tata was explaining some Xhosa family history to Collin and every now and then Collin would distract me from the dulling pain I was feeling. After one and a half / two hours, Zandile’s friend finished. Although I wasn’t in pain, it felt as though either my entire scalp was bleeding or a hand was resting on my head tightly. In actuality, neither was true, and it looked pretty cool, especially as the hair wasn’t in straight, parallel cornrows.
Wednesday: We said our first set of final good-byes by 10 o’clock and made our way over to the Bead House (which also happened to be the site of our good-bye dinner) for an oral rural homestay debriefing, followed by a few rounds of good-byes to the families that have taken such wonderful care of us over these past few days. We then got on the road to Vincent to see a paper-making cooperative that was slowly but surely becoming its own business. After a brief explanation of the paper-making process, many of us took turns sieving and pressing some paper pulp into A4-size sheets of paper (some of which ended up looking as thick as cake bases). Next, we went to a mall where we were able to get some shopping done (I finally found a rain jacket I liked, but let’s see how much I use it now that it’s beginning to feel like summer here). At 3:30pm, we made our way to Buccaneers.
Buccaneers really is a world apart. When the guide books said this was one of the best backpackers’ lodges, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What we got was an awesome location for what we would soon find out is our « vacation ». I’ve been on this adventure with my classmates for six weeks now and so SIT thought it best for us to really have some downtime before getting back into the groove of academia. While this certainly has been a wonderful experience, I still can’t help but remain cognisant of the world we left a few days ago. Very few, if any at all, from Tshabo will ever get to experience this place.
For me, Buccaneers reminds me a bit of the Philippines landscape (whether this is true or not is up to interpretation), but in any case, I really do like it here. On our first night, we all had a burger night dinner and Ebony, Elisabeth and I watched Generations together, as well as the copious amount of news surrounding the worldwide economic crisis. Before all of that, eleven of us played tag football on the beach; prior to that, Mike decided it would be a fun idea for him to swim in the Indian Ocean for a bit. After dinner, I was able to get online and found out that I am accepted to the Paris internship programme for next semester; now all I need to do is just balance my life in SA with preparation for France… that’ll be fun.
Yesterday, I woke up at 6am without an alarm clock and went outside hoping to catch the sunrise. To my surprise, however, the sun was already fully up. I ran on the beach for a bit and went back to the lodge to sleep. At 8:30am, I had a wonderful breakfast, soon followed by what I hope to be a successful final oral exam in Xhosa. For lunch, Ebony, Elisabeth and I made our way across the beach to a tucked away restaurant where I had a chicken Caesar salad and one of the best milkshakes I have had in South Africa to date. Apparently, though, we didn’t follow the usual path to get to the restaurant but thankfully we were able to utilise our Xhosa to ask some women how to get there. We made our way back to Buccaneers after lunch when I soon began to not feel so well (I’m thinking it may have been because of some jelly beans I ate, as the others who had salad were perfectly fine). I took what I think was an hour and a half long nap, only to find myself still not feeling that great. Last night was Mexican night and I barely ate anything (though the dessert was excellent), while watching Generations with an even bigger group of us (Collin, Dyana, Ebony, Elisabeth, Kelsi, Jenny and I, if I remember correctly). I went to sleep shortly thereafter.
Today, I woke up feeling great and ready to tackle the day. I started off with an Internet update, followed by a yoga class with Elisabeth. I definitely found myself not as flexible as yoga would like me to be, but thankfully I was able to get some yoga time in. Annie, the yoga instructor, really helped me out in getting the form as correct as my body would allow, and explained each step well. Apparently, though, the horseback riding that was scheduled for quarter to ten was actually scheduled for quarter to nine. With me not feeling so good yesterday, I didn’t catch the time change and held back the others from riding. The horseback riding leader, Penny, finally found me at the yoga class at 9:30am, and she drove me and Ebony to where the others (the volunteers and another rider) were waiting for us. With everything then settled, I « signed my life away », was given a helmet and told I would be riding Fat Freddie. Today, however, Fat Freddie isn’t so fat, as he has lost a little over 50kgs. Given this was my first actually riding lesson, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, regardless of how fat my horse was.
As I would soon find out, there’s a lot of drama amongst the horses, to the point that Freddie can’t be next to certain horses or would prefer to be by others. At one point, he didn’t want to be by any horses. I was also told that Freddie likes to go off the regular path, so I would be getting a lot of practice with steering. Freddie also happened to be apparently constipated the first half of the ride so it was difficult to steer him. With all of this, plus his later temper tantrums, this was to be a horse ride I don’t plan on forgetting for a while.
One of the first things I learned was how to steer, especially given Freddie’s condition. For what I think was about forty-five minutes, the horses slowly walked their way to the beach. At one point, we went down a steep decline and began walking on slabs of rocks to get to the beach. As we walked along the beach, we were able to see some wonderful views of the water and I felt comfortable enough to take my camera out for some pictures while riding. We then switched over to trotting and I soon found the importance of having proper form while doing so. With no one in sight, we attempted to cantor, yet with Freddie’s weird behaviour, he refused to do so. Penny said that while other horses were behind him, he wouldn’t cantor. Soon with no one behind me, Freddie broke into a trot and then a cantor and I quickly found the rhythm I needed. (Haha, now I just needed to find the courage to go along with that.) On our way to the half-way point, we saw some of the girls relaxing on the beach, and on our way back, we saw the guys getting ready to do some canoeing.
Passing the guys, we made our way up a huge hill and at one point had to trot in order to get up a steep incline. Towards the very end, we all broke into a final cantor up the hill. Throughout the whole portion of the second half, I had to fight the fear of looking down and realising that one slip of Freddie’s foot could potentially send us down the hill. Yet, in the end, it was a wonderful experience to be able to have traversed the beach and get up the hill on horseback. I wasn’t as scared as I thought I would be, especially not knowing what to expect. Penny was a really great guide, and Rachel and Pauline, two of the visiting volunteers, were wonderfully supportive.
After Penny and the others put all of the equipment away and brought the horses to their different pastures, Penny drove Ebony and I back to Buccaneers. (On a side note, Penny, her sister and their mother currently take care of 37 horses.) I went back to the lodge and took a shower, and then went to have lunch, where I soon met Joe. He had driven from Cape Town since yesterday and arrived a few hours prior. Tonight is braai night and surely another good episode of Generations awaits. Tomorrow, we begin our trek for Durban.
15 October
We finally arrived in Durban a few days ago, after two days on the road from Cintsa. A little over midway through the van ride, we stopped at an off-the-road inn outside of Kokstad’s city center. We had a wonderful spaghetti dinner and a great breakfast (with lots of bacon) in the morning. After dinner, a group of us watched the fifth Harry Potter movie and then went to bed. The guys ended up shoving all of our beds into one room, one that reminded me so much of my godparents’ home.
On Sunday, we got to Surf ‘n Dreams, our home lodge while in Durban. After a group of us helped Tabisa do the grocery shopping for the days to follow, the group dropped me off at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. The Mass was amazing-- multiculturalism at its best. I think I was particularly excited for the service for two reasons, reasons I discovered as soon as I stepped into the Church. First, I found out that the 5:30pm service was the teen service (I later found out that a basis of the service comes from the States, via Life Teen). Undoubtedly with the aid of a worship band, it ended up having a rather contemporary feel to it and reminded me of services back home. Second, I noticed the multiculturalism right off the bat and further realised that my experiences in previous churches over the past few weeks have been almost exclusively mono-ethnic, mono-linguistic. Of the entire Mass, I really enjoyed the priest’s homily, in which he incorporated elements of basic Catholic teaching surrounding aspects of the Bible. He asked the congregation how many books of the Bible exist in each testament (46 in the old, 27 in the new), and stated that the purpose of the Bible is to provide commentary on values and instructions on living morally, not to act as a scientific text nor as a concrete historical timeline. Following the priest’s homily was an interesting presentation by the youth minister of the parish. Following the service, I went to Debonair’s pizza for dinner and came back to the lodge.
The following day, we left to go to the same building that the SIT Durban class has their courses. We had a seminar on the basic history of Indians in South Africa and then visited the Cato Manor memorial. Afterwards, we went to a family-run Hindu temple, then had a bunny chow (extremely spicy, by the way) at an Indian restaurant, and made our way to what used to be (since last year) the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere. After an excellent tour of the mosque and explanations of Islamic practice in South Africa and around the world, we were introduced to the Indian market across the street. While everyone checked the market out, Tabisa walked with me to what I found out to be Emmanuel Cathedral, the cathedral of the archdiocese of Durban. It was a beautiful cathedral and reminded me of cathedrals and churches back home. I went to the main office, where I received contact information for my projects and later research. Following our day’s travels, we went back to Surf ‘n Dreams. Soon after, Collin and I went to Spar to get some dinner.
On Tuesday, we went to Howard College, a division of the University of KwaZulu-Natal. There, we had a great lecture discussion on race and how it plays out in terms of Indian and Black identity, particularly given the KZN context. We had lunch on campus and then made our way back to the Durban classroom. Unfortunately, our guest lecturer who was to talk to us about Bollywood and its influences in South Africa could not make it to the lecture (as a result of some miscommunication). Instead, we went to perhaps one of the worst places for me to go (in actuality, it was so great): the Pavilion, one of the largest mall complexes I have ever seen. Naturally, I did quite a bit of spending, but really got items that I had already planned on getting (somewhat surprisingly at a cheaper price!). We returned to Surf ‘n Dreams afterwards. Collin, Ebony, Elisabeth and I then went to a place called Something Fishy where we had an enjoyable dinner. At the Pavillion, I bought a travel chess set for R10, and Collin and I followed up dinner with a game. At the conclusion of the game, Collin ended up tying our series 2-2-2.
Wednesday hit and so too did I really feel the mosquito bites I had accrued over the past few days. Thanks to my anti-itch cream purchase the evening prior, I feel quite a bit better for a consistent period of time. Today, we went back to the Durban classroom where we had an amazing lecture discussion, followed by another spicy lunch at Bayflats. There, we spent the afternoon discussing community activism. When we got back to the backpackers’, Tabisa and I convinced each other to go to the African market at the Stables; essentially, this particular timing was an outdoor, evening market, with individual shops located within old horse stables. I found a few things on my list of must-bring-back-home-things. When I thought I had finished shopping, Tabisa came up to Joe, Martin and I and very enthusiastically told us about a great find on her part: past curriencies both in bill and coin form. Martin, Tabisa and I took a look at the great collection, and I ended up getting a first issue apartheid one rand note and a set of three franc notes. After the market, we all went to a place called Spur’s where we ordered some take away (or rather, take-out in the States). Today’s been a great day.
22 October
Oh my goodness! I LOVE Stellenbosch! And, haha, I’ve been here for less than 24 hours. But first, a bit of an update on days prior:
After our stay in Durban, we made our way a few hours north to Isinkwe, which greatly reminded me of a set from Survivor. Collin and I stayed in a blue-box-type room in the middle of the Isinkwe backpacker grounds. Everyone had great meals and saw five bush babies which we consequently named after each of the guys, and continued our animal sightings on our safari ride at Isinkwe National Park. Along the way, we saw, among others, white rhinos, giraffes, springbok, zebra, etc.… Unfortunately, we didn't see any elephants (but we smelled and heard them!).
The following day, we made our way back down to Durban where we flew back to Cape Town. Upon landing, we collected our bags and travelled to Langa to stay with our homestay families for the weekend. On Monday, we went back to our Rondebosch classroom and, after a group 2 processing session, we had the rest of the day to ourselves. Within that free period, I finally got the chance to meet with my ISP advisor, Neville Alexander. He was immensely helpful and I’m excited to work with him on my project. Back at home, I tried cooking crêpes for my host family and, after about an hour and a half of trying, finally got them to work. Tuesday, we then made our way to the beautiful town of Stellenbosch.
23 October
Yesterday, I met my Stellenbosch family, at the wine and cheese party that followed a day of orientation to Stellenbosch. I have a host mom and dad, as well as five host siblings, each of whom have wonderfully bright and enthusiastic personalities. They’re also more of a organic/as raw-as-possible family so I can already tell that I’ll really be able to see (and hopefully get used to) how healthy eating and living is played out in reality.
After the initial meet-and-greet, we drove to the house where I was introduced to the family dog (a golden retriever) and then shown my room (which seems more like a one-person flat, and in so many respects, better than most hotel rooms in the States). As Liesl (the mom) was preparing dinner, I continued my long day of chess games by playing a game with Paul (the middle child). After the family prayer (which unlike I’ve seen in the States the children were eager to be the one who prayed--weird English sentence construction, I know), we enjoyed a very colourful garden salad with lettuce fresh from their garden (the space of which I must say I’m a tad bit jealous) and couscous with even more vegetables for dinner. This evening, we had salad again, along with spaghetti with fresh basil, tomatoes and cheese. Pietr (the dad) and Andre (the second to youngest and perhaps the one with the cutest mischievous smile I’ve ever seen) had a good helping of garlic to go along with their pasta.
In the morning, I left the house at quarter past 8 with Pietr; he dropped me off at the University of Stellenbosch’s Botanical Garden on his way to work. Unfortunately, our « classroom » got double booked, so we then moved to a classroom in the U.S. (i.e. Univ. of Stellenbosch) art department. There, we had two sessions (totalling a combined period of about 3-3.5 hours) on Afrikaner history. Following the lectures, I made my way to the student centre to find a fax machine; the rest of the afternoon was ours for lunch, research, exploring and so forth. I luckily found a great Internet centre and spent about two hours, most of the time spent catching up on life abroad, as well as checking up on my e-mails.
When I got back home from classes, Daniel (the eldest) greeted me and showed me all of the stuff he built (with some extra help here and there), which included a wooden canon, the start of a chariot and a ladder. He’s also got a garden and is finishing up a door to it. As he and the others rarely watch TV, he definitely shows many signs of huge potential and awesome imagination. He’s also very entrepreneurial (he bakes his own bread on Fridays to sell at the markets the following day; he’s saving up money for, among other things, three horses and wood so that he can build his tree house). Along the tour of the backyard and garden plots, Nikola (the only daughter and second eldest) showed me her ballet moves. Neil is the youngest and is five months old. Before dinner, we watched what I think is The Swan Princess, part 2. I didn’t know such a movie existed. Unfortunately, we had to stop halfway for dinner, and between breaks as I was talking to Pietr and Liesl (and obviously not finishing my food as quickly), Paul kept telling me in Afrikaans to eat quickly. Even more unfortunately, I didn’t finish in time and so, the kids finished the movie without me. I’ll have to see the end some time; I missed out on it but in exchange, saw how Pietr makes homemade, healthy chocolate (more of an experimental approach) and how Liesl makes rusk (quite scientific and exact)… not too bad of a trade-off.
2 November 2008
HYUU! I was thinking I was going to sit down and write a short entry, but then I saw that it’s been more than a week since I’ve written anything. So, first a very brief summary of some Stellenbosch highlights:
1) I went with one of my homestay family’s neighbours to St. Mark’s, one of three area Catholic churches (two in Stellenbosch, one in the neighbouring township, Kayamundi). Later in the evening, I went with another neighbour to the University of Stellenbosch student service of the Dutch Reformed Church. As students were gearing up to write their exams and would not be in school over the Christmas holiday, the service was focused on Advent. In some respects, it was a bit of a sad service, as it reminded me of the shortening time I have in South Africa. Beyond that, however, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The student service was run half-way between a Cru and Chapel service, and the contemporary music undoubtedly brought me back to great times at Albion. Though the service was majority Afrikaans-spoken/-sung, the songs were rather familiar to me, as they were Advent/Christmas-related. After the service, I interviewed our neighbour on his involvement in the DRC.
2) We visited the Taal Memorial, a monument dedicated to the Afrikaans language. It was built in 1975, just one year prior to the SOWETO uprisings. There has been some controversy surrounding it, but the reality remains that it stands as a testament to the power of the Afrikaans language, given South Africa’s history.
3) Following a trip to an organic farm, perhaps one of the biggest highlights of our Stellenbosch visit was our visit to a local wine estate. Though it isn’t one of the more well known estates, it’s nevertheless huge and gorgeous. We tried many of the estate’s wines coupled with a great lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon sipping our wines and sitting under the shade overlooking the grape trees.
4) Nicola turned 7 and had a carrot cake birthday cake in the shape of a mouse (think « Angelina Ballerina »). Liesl also made a delicious chocolate cake for the adults.
5) I played chess with Daniel, Nicola and Paul, each at least once a day every day I was in Stellenbosch; Daniel beat me once. I was told by the kids on my last night there that I must play many games with all of them, as it was indeed my last night there. Following this day of games, I spent about 1,5 hours showing my host family pictures and sharing stories of my journey so far in South Africa.
I’ll be visiting my Stellenbosch host family again around Thanksgiving time.
Following our week in Stellenbosch, we spent a night at Sunflower and then two nights at Mountain Manor, both of which are backpacker lodges. At Mountain Manor, I met and spoke in French to the Cameroonian employee, who also happened to graduate from the same university as one of my French professors. I also watched Rafael Nadal beat Gael Monfils on the tele- excellent match.
After moving out of Mountain Manor, we made our way to the Bo Kaap, the traditionally Muslim area comprised of the ‘so-called Coloured’ population (during the apartheid era). My host family here is great, bringing me to 4/4 wonderful families throughout this period of travelling. I also feel fortunate to have even more cultural integration here, as there is also a student from Saudi Arabia and two from Brazil, all of whom are here to study English. On my first night at the Bo Kaap, my host family and Faisal (the one from Saudi Arabia) went to the District 6 Reunion, a three-day event principally sponsored by the Muslim radio station that especially welcomes all those who used to live in District 6, before the government forced everyone to move out. It was a great experience as people across racial and lingual lines gathered together in this space in Epping. There were numerous market-type stalls, company booths, music venues and food stands. Today, I made my way over to the Catholic cathedral in Cape Town, St. Mary’s Cathedral; twelve students celebrated their First Holy Communion and the choirs and singers were especially great additions to the service.
And now, perhaps two of the most exciting things (that perhaps only I may think are exciting) that have happened recently:
1) I saw ‘High School Musical 3: Senior Year’ today! And AAAAAAAAGGGHHH! I think it’s absolutely amazing. Just enough cheeziness and wonderful music, singing and dancing to go along with it. There were multiple times when I forgot I was in a movie theatre and not watching a live play; my host brother also told me that I laughed too much. Oh, and ps/ the movie ticket only cost 29,5 ZAR and my popcorn-pop-Astro kiddie combo was only 20 ZAR. Hmmm… a movie and treats for about 5 USD? Yeah, I wouldn’t mind going again, haha.
2) On Friday, we had our two ‘heavy hitters’ to end our formal lecture series. The second lecturer was Zimitri Erasmus, a senior UCT lecture; the first was my ISP advisor, Neville Alexander. After the lectures, I went to UCT to have my second meeting with NA. My interview questions are currently undergoing revision following his suggestions, and am very glad that he took to liking my introduction. We continued talking about different contacts for interview purposes and, with only a few days to go until the ISP portion of this study abroad experience begins, I feel quite comfortable in the position I’m in, as well as how this all fits into my Honors thesis. Following my meeting with him, I went down to check out my accommodation site for the first third of my ISP, the Catholic chaplaincy at UCT. At this point, I have much of my itinerary and logistics settled, am currently finishing off my ISP proposal and will soon begin writing up my capstone assignment. Hyuu, so much to do now!
Until next time,
MA
Well, we’ve now reached the point in the journey when it’s time to leave Langa. Yesterday, I said a temporary good-bye to my host family (as we’ll be returning for two nights in mid-October) and left with the rest of my classmates and Nomawethu to Tschabo, a rural village near the cities of Berlin and East London. As we drove past the cities and began getting deeper and deeper into wooded areas, it really hit me that we’re really in South Africa. We passed the hills to our left and those in our van began to sing and dance to African/spiritual music. With this in mind, we pulled in front of Nowawe High School and were enthusiastically greeted by our homestay mamas, their hands waving in the air and giant smiles on their faces; for me, at least, it was a rather emotional experience of utter joy and happiness. They were definitely as excited (if not even more so) as us to begin the rural homestay.
After introducing ourselves and meeting the homestay mamas, we soon departed to our new homes for the upcoming week. Rather than go into the homestay alone, we were all told that we would sign ourselves up in pairs. Back in Rondebosch, Collin and I sign up as a homestay pair and I couldn’t be happier with the way things have worked out so far. Of the many things to get used to, language communication has perhaps been one of the most difficult yet most important. In the rural villages, especially, families are highly proficient in one language, and in our case, Xhosa. When we got to the house, we met one of Mama’s grandsons, Thembi. To my amazement, he spoke to us in very good English and was able to show us around Tschabo and help us to get oriented with daily life in Tschabo. One of the things I quickly had to get oriented to was the use of the outhouse, a cultural experience on its own special level. In actuality, it’s not too bad; it also doesn’t hurt that the cattle and goats are nearby. We also met Luto, a nearby neighbour who has been equally helpful with the transition to Tschabo.
On our walk around Tschabo, the four of us (Collin, Luto, Thembi and I) stopped by the houses of many of our classmates and after about an hour or so of walking, we made our way to an open field for a pick-up game of soccer. When we got back, around 6:30p, we went back outside to help bring in the cattle and goats. The sun was getting ready to set and it gracefully illuminated the surrounding villages; it was such a wonderful sight. It was equally as cool to see Thembi directing the cattle back to the house. With a single word and a few hand gestures, as if mechanically, the cattle made their way back home without further instruction to do so. Back into the house, perhaps a little after 7pm, we all ate dinner, with Thembi’s grandfather and his grandfather’s cousin. (Some time before then, Collin, Luto, Thembi and I watched sang some songs and watched a few Mariah Carey music videos, one of which Collin and Luto danced to). After dinner, Collin and I presented our homestay gifts, the response to one of the gifts (a boxed set of fifty games) being a request to teach them how to play the games (Mama really liked the Target bag). We soon got ready for bed and brushed our teeth outside. Back in the house, Collin went to sleep as I taught Thembi how to play Bingo in the kitchen. We were all asleep by 11-ish.
At 6:30am, the rooster began to crow… and crow he did for about an hour and a half, signalling me to finally get up. For the first time, I tasted porridge, the consistency of which I seem to be having some trouble getting down. After, I washed up in a basin (something I can’t recall ever doing), but faced the question as to how I should wash my hair. I finally decided to go outside and wash my hair directly under the tap; Maureen and Hayley just happened to walk right on by as I was getting ready to wash my hair, and as I was doing so, Maureen took pictures of « An American Washing His Hair » (or something to that effect). The pictures turned out pretty well. After I finished getting ready for the day, I went into the kitchen and found Mama kneading some dough. She was making fat cakes and pan cakes. I finally figured out how to properly say Ndingakunceda?, and in response to my inquiry, she let me help her cook the fat cakes. Unsurprisingly, the fat cakes reminded me of the States, as they tasted just like beignets, only without the powdered sugar on top.
Everyone met at the school at 10a to talk to Mr. Yaka, our homestay coordinator in Tschabo. For about two hours fifteen, we asked him various questions regarding rural life in Tschabo. Afterwards, we walked down to Dongwe, a neighbouring village, and the homestay site for four of our group. We went to one of the houses and greeted everyone in the one-room, six-cornered house. After stepping out for a bit to visit a pair of our classmates’ house, we returned to watch a ritual that was part of a continued ceremony for the slaughtering of an ox (the meat of the ox hadn’t finished cooking when we first got there). We sat on a hill overlooking the kraal, which was later explained to me that the kraal was considered holy ground and accessible to only the immediate members of the family that owned the house. We sat next to a group of women, a few of which were amagqirha, as denoted by their face paintings, and who sang as part of the ritual out of the house to the kraal. There, we joined in on the feast and (I didn’t expect to say this, but) the ox tasted REALLY good; it was perhaps the best tasting meat I’ve had since I’ve been here, and I’ve had some great-tasting meat in South Africa.
On the way back home, I found myself trailing behind and talked with Mr. Yaka about the bit of ceremony we witnessed, Xhosa spirituality and Christianity, and his faith. It was such a wonderful discussion that what was a 20-30 minute walk from Dongwe ended up being a personal, one hour-ish long question-and-answer session. Tomorrow, I’m planning on visiting him to continue our discussion of the parallels between African (though, specifically Xhosa) spirituality and Christianity (interesting how this fits nicely into my research, eh?).
When we got back, Collin and I watched Gremlins, which is perhaps one of the weirdest movies I’ve ever seen, while Mama did her beadwork. Yesterday, she had been working on it and said that we would be making our own on Monday (can’t wait!). While we watched the movie, we tried the pan cakes that Mama made earlier in the day which seriously tasted like pan de sal. It was so good and once again reminded me of home; we ate the bread with creamy peanut butter that added to its overall goodness. We then watched the end of Survivor and began playing chess. Midway through our game, Amy, Jenny and Jess came over for a brief visit with their sisis. We ate more pan cakes and after they left, Collin and I finished our game. In the end, I won the first game and he the second game. We then took a bit of a break and, listening to songs from American Idol and Across the Universe, got caught up with our journals. After a while, Mama told us that dinner was ready and we ate some great tasting umngqusho. As we attempted to finish the huge bowl of it, we watched a great Bernie Mac movie. Collin also received his Xhosa name, Zolani (« guy with no troubles »).
Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what’ll happen. Still on the agenda are a church service and potentially getting my hair braided.
5 October 2008
Well, I suppose I shall cut away the suspense and say that I was unable to get my hair braided today. However, I was able to attend a church service.
Today, Brittney, Ebony, Hayley, Kelsi, Lara, Maureen, Mike, Nate and I, along with Mike and Nate’s Mama, went to Tschabo 1 to celebrate a Zionist service. To get there, our Tata drove all of us, as well as a few others, (15 in total - I ended up sitting on Mike’s lap) to Tschabo 1. The service was a very interesting and welcoming experience for me, one which I really got into. (The ride over wasn’t so bad either, haha.)
We all got there about twenty after ten, and the service started about a quarter after eleven. The service was held within a single-roomed house structure, and the light blue traditional uniforms worn by the Church members signalled that they’re Zionist, the church of which blends African spirituality and Christianity. In total, the Zionists made up a little over fifty percent of us that were present. They prayed and read in Xhosa and interestingly enough (as noted in my first interview for my mini-ISP), they spoke in English in order to make sure that we understood what was going on and that we felt comfortable and welcome. From what I gathered, they read three readings followed by a gospel reading, each one distinguished by a different song/response. There were essentially three major symbols constantly present: a lighted candle, a large drum, and a circle (kept in tact as we circumscribed the house). We were later explained that, after the gospel reading (which I think was from Luke’s writing), different people from the church were taking turns explaining the meaning of the gospel (the story of which was the tax collector who climbed the tree to see Jesus), rather than having one person interpreting the story’s meaning. After the first hour, I was getting quite tired and, soon, I recognised that the music was taking over my body. This got me thinking about the notes I had written about in terms of the power of music I experienced both in the Catholic and Methodist churches in Langa. At 2pm, the service finished and we went outside where most (if not all) asked different people to take their photos. They offered us some refreshments and, by 2:30, we left. However, instead of Tata picking us up, we found ourselves walking back to Tshabo 2. It was a scenic walk, but one that took us an hour to complete.
Afterwards, Collin and I went to Dyana’s house to see if I could get my hair braided. They were finishing Elisabeth’s hair, but were then off to go back home to a neighbouring (but relatively far) village. We played « cellphones » (as opposed to Spoons) and, as the light rain came down, Collin and I left to get back home.
When we got home, we met Mama’s sons and daughters, as well as their children.
Before we all went to sleep, our new sisi, Zandile (who also has a three-month-old baby) asked Collin and I questions about our lives in the States.
10 October 2008
I’m currently writing from Buccaneers, a backpacking resort existing in a world highly separated from Tshabo. Before I continue writing about this place, here’s a brief summary of our remaining time in Tshabo:
Monday: Standing in light rain and cold wind (it really felt like I was back in the States experiencing usual weather for the this time of the year), Mr. Yaka talked to us about the paprika cooperative in place in Tshabo. In the afternoon, we all met at Brittney and Lara’s house (to be soon called the « Bead House ») to bead with our host mamas. At 8pm, Collin and I joined the rest of the family in watching Generations. Collin and I played a tie-breaker game to our chess series, which eventually ended up in a stalemate.
Tuesday: We were divided into two groups to visit different schools. The group I went with went to Nowawe High School. The nine of us there further split ourselves up into three groups of three, allowing us to collectively see more of the school. Our biggest challenge, however, was the fact that our timing brought us to the school a day after its opening from holiday and the end of a marking period. With that said, we were unable to really witness how teachers actually teach their students. Instead, we were able to speak to students about their daily life in school and within the rural setting. In one classroom, Amy, Yana and I found ourselves teaching economics to one of the classes (bearing in mind that I was the only one out of the three of us that actually took an economics class). Amy and Yana utilised logic and patterns while I tried to figure out what the acronyms on a problem we were working on stood for. In the end, all three of us worked together to fill in a part of a problem that looks as if it was part of an AP Economics exam. What confused me, however, was why it seemed that none of the stuff in the problem appeared in the text the students were using. This specific problem, as well as the others in the set, were from the East London mathematics matric preparation booklet; the resource materials the students have do not appear to really help the students with their final exam. With that said, I can only hope that it’s the teachers that make up for what the texts lack. After the schools visit, we went back home for lunch, followed by a school debriefing, which in turn was followed by a good-bye dinner cooked by all of the host mamas. The food was excellent as always and it was such a great way to end our rural homestay experience. The kids danced and sang for us while we waited for the food to be done cooking and, towards the end, they sang the National Anthem.
Right before the school debriefing, one of Zandile’s friends came to the house saying she was there to braid my hair. Unfortunately, I had to ask her to come back later, as I needed to be at the debriefing session. When we got home after the dinner and 8pm rolled by, I didn’t think she would come. We all watched Generations and, at 8:30pm, I heard someone say « I’m here to braid your hair now ». I was a little surprised that she was there; there was no turning back. I sat in the chair and she immediately got to braiding. I must say that the pain wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, except for whenever she would have to braid shorter strands (she had to pull tight in order to make sure they would braid correctly). While she was braiding my hair, Tata was explaining some Xhosa family history to Collin and every now and then Collin would distract me from the dulling pain I was feeling. After one and a half / two hours, Zandile’s friend finished. Although I wasn’t in pain, it felt as though either my entire scalp was bleeding or a hand was resting on my head tightly. In actuality, neither was true, and it looked pretty cool, especially as the hair wasn’t in straight, parallel cornrows.
Wednesday: We said our first set of final good-byes by 10 o’clock and made our way over to the Bead House (which also happened to be the site of our good-bye dinner) for an oral rural homestay debriefing, followed by a few rounds of good-byes to the families that have taken such wonderful care of us over these past few days. We then got on the road to Vincent to see a paper-making cooperative that was slowly but surely becoming its own business. After a brief explanation of the paper-making process, many of us took turns sieving and pressing some paper pulp into A4-size sheets of paper (some of which ended up looking as thick as cake bases). Next, we went to a mall where we were able to get some shopping done (I finally found a rain jacket I liked, but let’s see how much I use it now that it’s beginning to feel like summer here). At 3:30pm, we made our way to Buccaneers.
Buccaneers really is a world apart. When the guide books said this was one of the best backpackers’ lodges, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What we got was an awesome location for what we would soon find out is our « vacation ». I’ve been on this adventure with my classmates for six weeks now and so SIT thought it best for us to really have some downtime before getting back into the groove of academia. While this certainly has been a wonderful experience, I still can’t help but remain cognisant of the world we left a few days ago. Very few, if any at all, from Tshabo will ever get to experience this place.
For me, Buccaneers reminds me a bit of the Philippines landscape (whether this is true or not is up to interpretation), but in any case, I really do like it here. On our first night, we all had a burger night dinner and Ebony, Elisabeth and I watched Generations together, as well as the copious amount of news surrounding the worldwide economic crisis. Before all of that, eleven of us played tag football on the beach; prior to that, Mike decided it would be a fun idea for him to swim in the Indian Ocean for a bit. After dinner, I was able to get online and found out that I am accepted to the Paris internship programme for next semester; now all I need to do is just balance my life in SA with preparation for France… that’ll be fun.
Yesterday, I woke up at 6am without an alarm clock and went outside hoping to catch the sunrise. To my surprise, however, the sun was already fully up. I ran on the beach for a bit and went back to the lodge to sleep. At 8:30am, I had a wonderful breakfast, soon followed by what I hope to be a successful final oral exam in Xhosa. For lunch, Ebony, Elisabeth and I made our way across the beach to a tucked away restaurant where I had a chicken Caesar salad and one of the best milkshakes I have had in South Africa to date. Apparently, though, we didn’t follow the usual path to get to the restaurant but thankfully we were able to utilise our Xhosa to ask some women how to get there. We made our way back to Buccaneers after lunch when I soon began to not feel so well (I’m thinking it may have been because of some jelly beans I ate, as the others who had salad were perfectly fine). I took what I think was an hour and a half long nap, only to find myself still not feeling that great. Last night was Mexican night and I barely ate anything (though the dessert was excellent), while watching Generations with an even bigger group of us (Collin, Dyana, Ebony, Elisabeth, Kelsi, Jenny and I, if I remember correctly). I went to sleep shortly thereafter.
Today, I woke up feeling great and ready to tackle the day. I started off with an Internet update, followed by a yoga class with Elisabeth. I definitely found myself not as flexible as yoga would like me to be, but thankfully I was able to get some yoga time in. Annie, the yoga instructor, really helped me out in getting the form as correct as my body would allow, and explained each step well. Apparently, though, the horseback riding that was scheduled for quarter to ten was actually scheduled for quarter to nine. With me not feeling so good yesterday, I didn’t catch the time change and held back the others from riding. The horseback riding leader, Penny, finally found me at the yoga class at 9:30am, and she drove me and Ebony to where the others (the volunteers and another rider) were waiting for us. With everything then settled, I « signed my life away », was given a helmet and told I would be riding Fat Freddie. Today, however, Fat Freddie isn’t so fat, as he has lost a little over 50kgs. Given this was my first actually riding lesson, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, regardless of how fat my horse was.
As I would soon find out, there’s a lot of drama amongst the horses, to the point that Freddie can’t be next to certain horses or would prefer to be by others. At one point, he didn’t want to be by any horses. I was also told that Freddie likes to go off the regular path, so I would be getting a lot of practice with steering. Freddie also happened to be apparently constipated the first half of the ride so it was difficult to steer him. With all of this, plus his later temper tantrums, this was to be a horse ride I don’t plan on forgetting for a while.
One of the first things I learned was how to steer, especially given Freddie’s condition. For what I think was about forty-five minutes, the horses slowly walked their way to the beach. At one point, we went down a steep decline and began walking on slabs of rocks to get to the beach. As we walked along the beach, we were able to see some wonderful views of the water and I felt comfortable enough to take my camera out for some pictures while riding. We then switched over to trotting and I soon found the importance of having proper form while doing so. With no one in sight, we attempted to cantor, yet with Freddie’s weird behaviour, he refused to do so. Penny said that while other horses were behind him, he wouldn’t cantor. Soon with no one behind me, Freddie broke into a trot and then a cantor and I quickly found the rhythm I needed. (Haha, now I just needed to find the courage to go along with that.) On our way to the half-way point, we saw some of the girls relaxing on the beach, and on our way back, we saw the guys getting ready to do some canoeing.
Passing the guys, we made our way up a huge hill and at one point had to trot in order to get up a steep incline. Towards the very end, we all broke into a final cantor up the hill. Throughout the whole portion of the second half, I had to fight the fear of looking down and realising that one slip of Freddie’s foot could potentially send us down the hill. Yet, in the end, it was a wonderful experience to be able to have traversed the beach and get up the hill on horseback. I wasn’t as scared as I thought I would be, especially not knowing what to expect. Penny was a really great guide, and Rachel and Pauline, two of the visiting volunteers, were wonderfully supportive.
After Penny and the others put all of the equipment away and brought the horses to their different pastures, Penny drove Ebony and I back to Buccaneers. (On a side note, Penny, her sister and their mother currently take care of 37 horses.) I went back to the lodge and took a shower, and then went to have lunch, where I soon met Joe. He had driven from Cape Town since yesterday and arrived a few hours prior. Tonight is braai night and surely another good episode of Generations awaits. Tomorrow, we begin our trek for Durban.
15 October
We finally arrived in Durban a few days ago, after two days on the road from Cintsa. A little over midway through the van ride, we stopped at an off-the-road inn outside of Kokstad’s city center. We had a wonderful spaghetti dinner and a great breakfast (with lots of bacon) in the morning. After dinner, a group of us watched the fifth Harry Potter movie and then went to bed. The guys ended up shoving all of our beds into one room, one that reminded me so much of my godparents’ home.
On Sunday, we got to Surf ‘n Dreams, our home lodge while in Durban. After a group of us helped Tabisa do the grocery shopping for the days to follow, the group dropped me off at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. The Mass was amazing-- multiculturalism at its best. I think I was particularly excited for the service for two reasons, reasons I discovered as soon as I stepped into the Church. First, I found out that the 5:30pm service was the teen service (I later found out that a basis of the service comes from the States, via Life Teen). Undoubtedly with the aid of a worship band, it ended up having a rather contemporary feel to it and reminded me of services back home. Second, I noticed the multiculturalism right off the bat and further realised that my experiences in previous churches over the past few weeks have been almost exclusively mono-ethnic, mono-linguistic. Of the entire Mass, I really enjoyed the priest’s homily, in which he incorporated elements of basic Catholic teaching surrounding aspects of the Bible. He asked the congregation how many books of the Bible exist in each testament (46 in the old, 27 in the new), and stated that the purpose of the Bible is to provide commentary on values and instructions on living morally, not to act as a scientific text nor as a concrete historical timeline. Following the priest’s homily was an interesting presentation by the youth minister of the parish. Following the service, I went to Debonair’s pizza for dinner and came back to the lodge.
The following day, we left to go to the same building that the SIT Durban class has their courses. We had a seminar on the basic history of Indians in South Africa and then visited the Cato Manor memorial. Afterwards, we went to a family-run Hindu temple, then had a bunny chow (extremely spicy, by the way) at an Indian restaurant, and made our way to what used to be (since last year) the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere. After an excellent tour of the mosque and explanations of Islamic practice in South Africa and around the world, we were introduced to the Indian market across the street. While everyone checked the market out, Tabisa walked with me to what I found out to be Emmanuel Cathedral, the cathedral of the archdiocese of Durban. It was a beautiful cathedral and reminded me of cathedrals and churches back home. I went to the main office, where I received contact information for my projects and later research. Following our day’s travels, we went back to Surf ‘n Dreams. Soon after, Collin and I went to Spar to get some dinner.
On Tuesday, we went to Howard College, a division of the University of KwaZulu-Natal. There, we had a great lecture discussion on race and how it plays out in terms of Indian and Black identity, particularly given the KZN context. We had lunch on campus and then made our way back to the Durban classroom. Unfortunately, our guest lecturer who was to talk to us about Bollywood and its influences in South Africa could not make it to the lecture (as a result of some miscommunication). Instead, we went to perhaps one of the worst places for me to go (in actuality, it was so great): the Pavilion, one of the largest mall complexes I have ever seen. Naturally, I did quite a bit of spending, but really got items that I had already planned on getting (somewhat surprisingly at a cheaper price!). We returned to Surf ‘n Dreams afterwards. Collin, Ebony, Elisabeth and I then went to a place called Something Fishy where we had an enjoyable dinner. At the Pavillion, I bought a travel chess set for R10, and Collin and I followed up dinner with a game. At the conclusion of the game, Collin ended up tying our series 2-2-2.
Wednesday hit and so too did I really feel the mosquito bites I had accrued over the past few days. Thanks to my anti-itch cream purchase the evening prior, I feel quite a bit better for a consistent period of time. Today, we went back to the Durban classroom where we had an amazing lecture discussion, followed by another spicy lunch at Bayflats. There, we spent the afternoon discussing community activism. When we got back to the backpackers’, Tabisa and I convinced each other to go to the African market at the Stables; essentially, this particular timing was an outdoor, evening market, with individual shops located within old horse stables. I found a few things on my list of must-bring-back-home-things. When I thought I had finished shopping, Tabisa came up to Joe, Martin and I and very enthusiastically told us about a great find on her part: past curriencies both in bill and coin form. Martin, Tabisa and I took a look at the great collection, and I ended up getting a first issue apartheid one rand note and a set of three franc notes. After the market, we all went to a place called Spur’s where we ordered some take away (or rather, take-out in the States). Today’s been a great day.
22 October
Oh my goodness! I LOVE Stellenbosch! And, haha, I’ve been here for less than 24 hours. But first, a bit of an update on days prior:
After our stay in Durban, we made our way a few hours north to Isinkwe, which greatly reminded me of a set from Survivor. Collin and I stayed in a blue-box-type room in the middle of the Isinkwe backpacker grounds. Everyone had great meals and saw five bush babies which we consequently named after each of the guys, and continued our animal sightings on our safari ride at Isinkwe National Park. Along the way, we saw, among others, white rhinos, giraffes, springbok, zebra, etc.… Unfortunately, we didn't see any elephants (but we smelled and heard them!).
The following day, we made our way back down to Durban where we flew back to Cape Town. Upon landing, we collected our bags and travelled to Langa to stay with our homestay families for the weekend. On Monday, we went back to our Rondebosch classroom and, after a group 2 processing session, we had the rest of the day to ourselves. Within that free period, I finally got the chance to meet with my ISP advisor, Neville Alexander. He was immensely helpful and I’m excited to work with him on my project. Back at home, I tried cooking crêpes for my host family and, after about an hour and a half of trying, finally got them to work. Tuesday, we then made our way to the beautiful town of Stellenbosch.
23 October
Yesterday, I met my Stellenbosch family, at the wine and cheese party that followed a day of orientation to Stellenbosch. I have a host mom and dad, as well as five host siblings, each of whom have wonderfully bright and enthusiastic personalities. They’re also more of a organic/as raw-as-possible family so I can already tell that I’ll really be able to see (and hopefully get used to) how healthy eating and living is played out in reality.
After the initial meet-and-greet, we drove to the house where I was introduced to the family dog (a golden retriever) and then shown my room (which seems more like a one-person flat, and in so many respects, better than most hotel rooms in the States). As Liesl (the mom) was preparing dinner, I continued my long day of chess games by playing a game with Paul (the middle child). After the family prayer (which unlike I’ve seen in the States the children were eager to be the one who prayed--weird English sentence construction, I know), we enjoyed a very colourful garden salad with lettuce fresh from their garden (the space of which I must say I’m a tad bit jealous) and couscous with even more vegetables for dinner. This evening, we had salad again, along with spaghetti with fresh basil, tomatoes and cheese. Pietr (the dad) and Andre (the second to youngest and perhaps the one with the cutest mischievous smile I’ve ever seen) had a good helping of garlic to go along with their pasta.
In the morning, I left the house at quarter past 8 with Pietr; he dropped me off at the University of Stellenbosch’s Botanical Garden on his way to work. Unfortunately, our « classroom » got double booked, so we then moved to a classroom in the U.S. (i.e. Univ. of Stellenbosch) art department. There, we had two sessions (totalling a combined period of about 3-3.5 hours) on Afrikaner history. Following the lectures, I made my way to the student centre to find a fax machine; the rest of the afternoon was ours for lunch, research, exploring and so forth. I luckily found a great Internet centre and spent about two hours, most of the time spent catching up on life abroad, as well as checking up on my e-mails.
When I got back home from classes, Daniel (the eldest) greeted me and showed me all of the stuff he built (with some extra help here and there), which included a wooden canon, the start of a chariot and a ladder. He’s also got a garden and is finishing up a door to it. As he and the others rarely watch TV, he definitely shows many signs of huge potential and awesome imagination. He’s also very entrepreneurial (he bakes his own bread on Fridays to sell at the markets the following day; he’s saving up money for, among other things, three horses and wood so that he can build his tree house). Along the tour of the backyard and garden plots, Nikola (the only daughter and second eldest) showed me her ballet moves. Neil is the youngest and is five months old. Before dinner, we watched what I think is The Swan Princess, part 2. I didn’t know such a movie existed. Unfortunately, we had to stop halfway for dinner, and between breaks as I was talking to Pietr and Liesl (and obviously not finishing my food as quickly), Paul kept telling me in Afrikaans to eat quickly. Even more unfortunately, I didn’t finish in time and so, the kids finished the movie without me. I’ll have to see the end some time; I missed out on it but in exchange, saw how Pietr makes homemade, healthy chocolate (more of an experimental approach) and how Liesl makes rusk (quite scientific and exact)… not too bad of a trade-off.
2 November 2008
HYUU! I was thinking I was going to sit down and write a short entry, but then I saw that it’s been more than a week since I’ve written anything. So, first a very brief summary of some Stellenbosch highlights:
1) I went with one of my homestay family’s neighbours to St. Mark’s, one of three area Catholic churches (two in Stellenbosch, one in the neighbouring township, Kayamundi). Later in the evening, I went with another neighbour to the University of Stellenbosch student service of the Dutch Reformed Church. As students were gearing up to write their exams and would not be in school over the Christmas holiday, the service was focused on Advent. In some respects, it was a bit of a sad service, as it reminded me of the shortening time I have in South Africa. Beyond that, however, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The student service was run half-way between a Cru and Chapel service, and the contemporary music undoubtedly brought me back to great times at Albion. Though the service was majority Afrikaans-spoken/-sung, the songs were rather familiar to me, as they were Advent/Christmas-related. After the service, I interviewed our neighbour on his involvement in the DRC.
2) We visited the Taal Memorial, a monument dedicated to the Afrikaans language. It was built in 1975, just one year prior to the SOWETO uprisings. There has been some controversy surrounding it, but the reality remains that it stands as a testament to the power of the Afrikaans language, given South Africa’s history.
3) Following a trip to an organic farm, perhaps one of the biggest highlights of our Stellenbosch visit was our visit to a local wine estate. Though it isn’t one of the more well known estates, it’s nevertheless huge and gorgeous. We tried many of the estate’s wines coupled with a great lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon sipping our wines and sitting under the shade overlooking the grape trees.
4) Nicola turned 7 and had a carrot cake birthday cake in the shape of a mouse (think « Angelina Ballerina »). Liesl also made a delicious chocolate cake for the adults.
5) I played chess with Daniel, Nicola and Paul, each at least once a day every day I was in Stellenbosch; Daniel beat me once. I was told by the kids on my last night there that I must play many games with all of them, as it was indeed my last night there. Following this day of games, I spent about 1,5 hours showing my host family pictures and sharing stories of my journey so far in South Africa.
I’ll be visiting my Stellenbosch host family again around Thanksgiving time.
Following our week in Stellenbosch, we spent a night at Sunflower and then two nights at Mountain Manor, both of which are backpacker lodges. At Mountain Manor, I met and spoke in French to the Cameroonian employee, who also happened to graduate from the same university as one of my French professors. I also watched Rafael Nadal beat Gael Monfils on the tele- excellent match.
After moving out of Mountain Manor, we made our way to the Bo Kaap, the traditionally Muslim area comprised of the ‘so-called Coloured’ population (during the apartheid era). My host family here is great, bringing me to 4/4 wonderful families throughout this period of travelling. I also feel fortunate to have even more cultural integration here, as there is also a student from Saudi Arabia and two from Brazil, all of whom are here to study English. On my first night at the Bo Kaap, my host family and Faisal (the one from Saudi Arabia) went to the District 6 Reunion, a three-day event principally sponsored by the Muslim radio station that especially welcomes all those who used to live in District 6, before the government forced everyone to move out. It was a great experience as people across racial and lingual lines gathered together in this space in Epping. There were numerous market-type stalls, company booths, music venues and food stands. Today, I made my way over to the Catholic cathedral in Cape Town, St. Mary’s Cathedral; twelve students celebrated their First Holy Communion and the choirs and singers were especially great additions to the service.
And now, perhaps two of the most exciting things (that perhaps only I may think are exciting) that have happened recently:
1) I saw ‘High School Musical 3: Senior Year’ today! And AAAAAAAAGGGHHH! I think it’s absolutely amazing. Just enough cheeziness and wonderful music, singing and dancing to go along with it. There were multiple times when I forgot I was in a movie theatre and not watching a live play; my host brother also told me that I laughed too much. Oh, and ps/ the movie ticket only cost 29,5 ZAR and my popcorn-pop-Astro kiddie combo was only 20 ZAR. Hmmm… a movie and treats for about 5 USD? Yeah, I wouldn’t mind going again, haha.
2) On Friday, we had our two ‘heavy hitters’ to end our formal lecture series. The second lecturer was Zimitri Erasmus, a senior UCT lecture; the first was my ISP advisor, Neville Alexander. After the lectures, I went to UCT to have my second meeting with NA. My interview questions are currently undergoing revision following his suggestions, and am very glad that he took to liking my introduction. We continued talking about different contacts for interview purposes and, with only a few days to go until the ISP portion of this study abroad experience begins, I feel quite comfortable in the position I’m in, as well as how this all fits into my Honors thesis. Following my meeting with him, I went down to check out my accommodation site for the first third of my ISP, the Catholic chaplaincy at UCT. At this point, I have much of my itinerary and logistics settled, am currently finishing off my ISP proposal and will soon begin writing up my capstone assignment. Hyuu, so much to do now!
Until next time,
MA
mardi 30 septembre 2008
Update B
Sunday, 28 September 2008
Oh my word! It seems like forever since I’ve been able to just sit down and type some thoughts… my ability to write by hand pales in comparison to my ability to type fast enough to keep up with the thoughts that have been stored over the past days. Yuuh! Certainly, much has happened over the past week or two.
First and foremost, the biggest thing that has impacted me since my visit to Bishop’s to see the one-act plays was the downfall of my old laptop, or rather, just the fact that I dropped my computer a few inches from the ground as I was putting it away for the night. Long story short, the LCD component was damaged in the fall and after going back and forth to Cape Town and Clairemont from Rondebosch by myself over the course of the past week or two, it ended up costing me just a bit more to purchase a new laptop than to replace the LCD of the old one. I must say I’m quite happy with the new computer I bought. The one I had intended to buy was half the size of this one, very light, and portable. It also had a built-in camera and a built-in card reader. Unfortunately, due to its size, there was no CD/DVD drive. For R700, I could buy an external drive, but would have to carry it everywhere with me (which I have been told is quite a hassle). For R500-ish more, however, I was able to buy this current laptop. It has its own issues, the biggest for me of which is the lack of a card reader. It was relatively inexpensive to rectify that situation (i.e., by buying an external card reader, which is quite easy to transport); the only thing left to purchase for this is a cover for the front of the computer, as the material seems to hold onto the fingerprint/oil residue. Okay, so enough talk about the laptop. From this point on, I’m going off on memory as to some things that have happened since I last wrote in my blog (before the fall).
Well, the week after my visit to the Langa Methodist Church, my classmates, Tabisa, and I, went to Simon’s Town to relax from the hustle and bustle of study abroad life. Thankfully we had beautiful weather for the weekend. We stayed at Topsail House, which was really a renovated Benedictine nun convent. The girls stayed where the nuns used to live; the guys stayed in the Chapel. Everyone was so hospitable and friendly both at Topsail, as well as in Simon’s Town itself. Naturally, we had wonderful food throughout the weekend, my favourite of all meals thus far at Bertha’s, a sushi and oyster grill. I ended up not getting sushi; I did, however, order my dessert to come at the same time as my entrée. I’ll have to remember to post a photo of it soon. Right next door to Topsail (conveniently) is the Catholic church in Simon’s Town. On Sunday, Amy and I went to the 9am Mass (which ended at 9:40am). The church is small, but the beautiful pieces inside it made the room bigger than it probably is. The majority of the people at this particular service were older, and definitely English-speaking (there were most likely some Afrikaans-speaking folk, too), which perfectly fit the demographics of Simon’s Town. There are evening services both on Saturday and Sunday, so I can only assume that the congregations itself is relatively large for that area. The organist was celebrating her 80th birthday, and the priest gave her a bouquet of flowers in celebration. I didn’t know either of them, but I feel it necessary to write here that it certainly felt like I had known each of them my whole life. After Mass, Amy and I went to the parish hall (the building of which I had somehow mistaken as the actual church) where we talked to a few parishioners, as well as the priest. He’s Dutch and studied some years in France before coming to South Africa, at which time he didn’t speak any English. Aside from his regular pastoral duties, he teaches history at a nearby university. He was quite enthused to tell us of his past research and visits to his research areas whereby he has concluded that the Old Testament is one of the most accurate pieces in all of history. One example he gave was of the harvesting of manna. Afterwards, and as per his suggestion, we concluded our visit to the parish with a visit to the memorial garden, which had replaced a swimming pool which in turn replaced a tennis court (or is it the other way around?).
On Thursday, the 25th, we were all divided into groups of five, with each group visiting two NGOs. Carrie, Collin, Jess, Willie and I, first went to the Institute for the Healing of Memories. In one view, it may be seen as a contemporary, small-scaled version of the TRC. In another, its primary role is to facilitate a retreat-style setting whereby, over the course of a 2.5-day period, people are invited to share their stories of the apartheid days and release and emotions (pent-up or otherwise) to those within the group. The NGO first began as a chaplaincy programme for those who underwent torture (now the primary group is focused on trauma-related incidents). The Institute for the Healing of Memories is staffed by eight people and the work that they do is life-changing. Equally life-changing on another part of the spectrum is the work that stems out from Ikemva Labantu, a sector of which we visited: Hoops 4 Hope. In partnership with the NBA, Hoops 4 Hope puts together programming that incorporates education and life skills with sport (i.e., basketball; there’s also another group known as Soccer 4 Hope). After speaking with our contact person in the main office, we went with two others to Philippi, where we all met some kids that participated in the after-school programme. We also met the head coach of that region who talked to us about his involvement in with Hoops 4 Hope. One of the cool things is that those that he coaches as youngsters eventually grow up to become coaches, as well, under his guidance. Also cool (well, at least for me) is the fact that among his multilingual background is a bit of French.
On Friday, the 26th, was my 20th birthday and one of the longest birthdays that I can remember. We were picked up at quarter to 8 in the morning and got home at half past 9 in the evening. Within that period, we all became part of the Journey of Remembrance. Together, we traveled from the main office to District 6 to Langa, followed by Athlone, Gugulethu, and finally Philippi (where we spent the rest of the day, in Victoria Ngxeshe - pretty sure I spelled that incorrectly). We traveled either by minibus or on foot (mainly minibus) and upon stopping at a particular memorial, we listened to our guides’ stories about the apartheid era and their experiences at that particular time. Their stories and the stories of the memorials came alive in a way that textbooks and non-interview research can never reach. At Victoria Ngxeshe, we found ourselves interacting with very energetic kids. I believe it was Brittany and Lara who had stickers with them; many of us had our cameras and took pictures of stickered kids, kids smiling and laughing with us, kids who are living in a world that none of us (I feel safe to say) have never really experienced.
Somewhere within all of this, everyone was at one point divided into groups of four, with each group visiting a different school. Alana, Amy, Carrie and I went to Zimasa, a school highly regarded for its well attended students and faculty, school behaviour, and academics. Throughout the day, I was amazed at the pride the students had for their uniforms, much like what I saw at Bishop’s (if I didn’t have an ISP subject in mind, I probably would have taken this somewhere…), as well as the notion that one teacher told us: Zimasa is a school run by Blacks for Blacks. As such, Zimasa is very much a product of the community and, therefore, there is no fear of vandalism, etc. For me, Zimasa brought me back to my days at St. Michael’s, (though St. Mike’s definitely had a smaller building).
This upcoming week is really our last week of Xhosa before we get to the Eastern Cape and our rural homestays (where we have been forewarned is predominately Xhosa-speaking). Before leaving for our NGOs, we all presented our group Xhosa presentations with much enthusiasm and energy. Amy, Kelsi and I tried giving directions to Emma with varying levels of complexity and speeds, with her having the right directions in the end. Today, I gave a speech in 95 percent Xhosa and 5 percent audible nervousness at our Langa homestay party. I heard some reactions of understanding as I clicked and made my way through the speech, so I assume that it was understandable. My homestay family told me I got it right, and thankfully I recorded it, so I was able to share it with Vuvu, as she was unable to make it. Mama, Sasa and Siya were there, along with the other students and their families. After Nomawethu and Shane spoke, we all had either a very late lunch or a very early dinner (Nomawethu simply called it a meal, especially as we were running on South African time, and thus lost the original taste of lunch). Instead of us being served--as we had been these past three weeks--it was our turn to serve our host families. Following the meal, was my speech, after which some of the girls danced in African, American and freestyle forms. Another group presented two skits, one regarding minibus rides to Cape Town and the other reenacting Nomawethu’s first Xhosa lessons with us. Since my slideshow couldn’t be shown as there was too much natural light in the room, we concluded our programme with our attempt at singing the South African national anthem. Shortly thereafter was dessert and dancing. I danced a bit with Mama and then we all left the party, in time to hear the new South African president address the nation.
Before I continue writing about today, my brain has switched to yesterday’s events, so I feel as though I must follow it. Since I hadn’t found my computer yet, Vuvu was kind enough to take me to a few computer centres to do some comparison shopping. Unsuccessful at either location, Bayanda, Siya and I went to Clairemont to check the computers there. Thankfully I had enough money in my account and was able to finally purchase my laptop in one of the Cavendish stores (the mall of which is amazing, btw). When we got back home, I took a nap and upon waking up began playing with my new toy. We went to Alana’s house shortly thereafter, as her host family was having a bit of a ceremony/celebration in regard to the good fortune that God had bestowed on them. The ceremony itself was rather short, but still quite meaningful. After people said some prayers and others added praises to the success and the like, they blessed their new cars. Earlier in the week, they had been making African beer (the consistency of which is relatively thick, though perhaps just a slight level higher than regular liquid drinks, if that makes any sense at all; and the taste of which is barely, yet recognizable, alcoholic) and it was the remnants of the beer that they sprinkled onto the cars. Afterwards, we all ate dinner and then Bayanda, Siya and I made it back to the house.
On a huge tangent, I would like to briefly make note of TV in South Africa, as I don’t recall ever already posting anything to that effect. In terms of basic channels, there are four in South Africa: SABC 1, SABC 2, SABC 3, and an « E » station, which I believe just stands for entertainment (I think it may even be called E4). In any case, the majority of the programmes can be divided into three main groups: American reality tv shows, soapies (at least one for every official language in South Africa, if not a combination of these languages within a single soapie, i.e., soap opera, if it wasn’t clear already), and the news (seemingly, at least one for every official language in South Africa). The usually line-up when I get home from school is the news in Zulu, « the Bold and the Beautiful », « 7 de Laan » (my favourite) (on that station, the news in Afrikaans follows), the news in English, and then the news in Xhosa, and then « Generations » (my classmates‘ favourite). I’ve been able to watch « Suvivor: Fiji » (I have no clue as to whether or not it’s finished in the States; if so, don’t tell me who wins!) and the South African version of « So You Think You Can Dance? ». One evening, during the English news broadcast, I surprisingly caught the American accent of the weather anchorman.
I suppose the last thing I want to conclude with was today’s homily message. (FYI: At 10 TNR, I am now about halfway down page three in Word.) When I first came to Langa, I went to St. Anthony’s knowing relatively little Xhosa, and I find it fitting that I went there on my last Sunday in Langa before heading off to the Eastern Cape. This time around, I got a better grasp of what was being said throughout the Mass; my only difficulty was trying to follow along with the readings in my Xhosa bible (perhaps mine’s simply a different version of the one they use?). Unfortunately, they didn’t have any songbooks, so Vuvu told me I should easily be able to find it in the Eastern Cape, especially since that’s where the songbooks they order come from. In any event, the priest concluded his homily by describing three Catholics (this also applies to Christians). The first group are those who are like kites: you need to hold onto the string, or else you lose the kite. The second are those that need to be pushed in order to believe or even participate in the Mass, just as you’d have to push a wheelbarrow. The final group are like donkeys, and are generally the best group. If a master ties a carrot to the end of a pole and dangles it in front of the donkey, the donkey moves, trying to get at the carrot. It may seem like an arduous task and perhaps near impossible to get the carrot, but the donkey will do anything for it, just as Christians follow Christ. Fr. Bafana also began his homily in a way that ties nicely to the end of his homily, referencing AA: no matter the difficulties/challenges, we must all take life one day at a time.
Until the next day I write,
MA
Update A
Following the previous entry:
Friday night, I came home from our first week of classes in Rondebosch. After putting away my things, Siya invited me to go to Bishops to see a performance of one-act plays. When we got to Bishops, he showed me around his dormitory and a bit of the campus, including their cricket field and tennis courts. Bishops is divided into seven houses (yes, think Harry Potter) and each house plays against each other. The students also have to go to Chapel every morning, as well as wear uniforms (both during the school day and at functions where the school is being represented, such as the Bishops Play Festival). Siya told me that, for them, the uniform is a symbol of the school and it is a matter of pride to wear it. The uniform consists of formal slacks, shoes, buton-down shirt, tie, and jacket. Seriously, it felt like I was at UDJ on Albion’s campus.
The evening’s performances consisted of seven parts, three dances, three plays and supposedly a professional dance group (we didn’t stay for the last bit). Of interesting note was the all-girls schools that did plays, and how they played male roles. It felt like men were clumped into a very stereotypical portrayal that worked, but was a bit awkward to watch. The dances were very beautiful and meaningful, full of form and a storyline. Most of them were cross sections of ballet, jazz, African beat, and at times, hip-hop. (Je dois écrire, malheureusement, que la première pièce que j’ai vu était le pire de tout des pièces que je verrais.) I should also note that all of these acts (minus the last one) were all done by high school students. Bearing in mind this fact, as well as the religious affiliation attached to all of them, I was quite surprised that much of the content and context of the plays, especially, were allowed to be performed (as in, I would be surprised if I saw this in the States): drugs, alcohol, rape, murder, abortion, suicide, as well as language, culture, ethnicity, history. In reality, the plays did portray just that: the historical and contemporary realities that South Africans have had to (and still do) face on a constant basis. The strongest performance was titled “Voices,” one that spoke for those who did not have a voice. At one point, one girl said “I will speak the language that I prefer. It is my right.” Another play, performed by students from Bishop, titled, “Waiting for the Storm,” was extremely good. Spoken with the obvious air of Shakespearian influence, the writing was masterfully written and could perhaps be seen as controversial yet entirely real. It followed a Muslim father and his son and the stereotypes attached to them, particularly within the context of being in the airport. Also cool was the fact that a single student provided the music for the entirety of the play (rather than having a recording).
After we got back home from Bishops, Siya and I tried watching a movie on my laptop, but to no avail as we were tired after the play. So, I packed up my things to bring back to my room and then it happened… I dropped my laptop about five inches from the ground. The battery popped out and bent a piece of the computer that I believe transports information from the CPU to the main computer screen. Mon coeur a brisé pendant mon ordinateur est tombé.
On Saturday, we aimed to go to Green Market Square and Sea Point. We took a van from Langa to Cape Town and got dropped in the vicinity where our drop-offs were the week prior. Everything didn’t look too out of place, and the group of us trekked to the open-air market. There were many vendors… many persistent vendors. Naturally, I ended up spending more than intended. Yet, overall, I was happy with the experience. I made the second of my three must-purchase purchases: my djimbe. In retrospect, though, it’s a bit too small for me, and so I’m in the process of finding a place where I can trade it in and upgrade it for a bigger size. Oh yeah, and I also have to figure out how in the world I’m going to transport it back to the States, especially if I manage to find a bigger one. In the meantime, it fits not-so-snugly into my backpack.
From Green Market Square, we headed for Sea Point. Midway through the van drive over (when we were supposed to get off), we unknowingly bypassed our stop and instead moved in the direction of Camp’s Bay. Finally agreeing that we weren’t too sure where were (and were getting hungry by this point), we got out of the van and walked to what ended up being Clifton Beach no. 4. The water was beautiful and the beach small, yet it was densely packed. After an hour or so, we continued heading on in search of Camp’s Bay and, ten minutes later, made it to our destination. We had lunch at Kuaui (sp?) and I took a bit of a catnap on the beach. The water was extremely cold, yet only took about five minutes to adjust to (okay, perhaps it wasn’t “extremely” cold). We then made our way back to Langa by 17h.
Overall, it was a highly enjoyable day, and of the many things to enjoy, the sun and heat was the rarest and best. It certainly felt like summer.
Before we got to Langa, Tabisa invited me to go to her church. This weekend, I was able to go. Tabisa goes to the Methodist Church in Langa, and now that I had this chance in South Africa, was ready for the experience; this was my first visit to a Methodist Church. The church seemed to be a bit bigger than the one at St. Anthony’s, yet by the time the service started, it was just as packed. To end the thoughts to this entry, following are some extracts of the observations written in my mini-ISP journal:
"A little girl played the djimbe (as did an even younger boy) and I noticed the djimbe I originally bought a few days prior was about the same size; definitely time for an upgrade. I also noticed that, just as at St. Anthony‘s, music played a very important role during the service. Moreover, that front, central floor space was reserved for soloists, instrumentalists and the occasional dancers. Indeed, it seemed that the room got brighter as they continued to sing.
vendredi 12 septembre 2008
La vie est belle
Life in South Africa is great. It's warm and sunny and now really feeling as it should be: spring. My health has continued to improve and I'm now sounding like myself again (as in, I can hear my own voice correctly).
Until my next great adventure here,
MA
Until my next great adventure here,
MA
I can finally update! Part 3
10 September 2008
Well, what can I say? I can say two things, really: the weather down here is so unpredictable and I’m sick. Actually, I’ve been sick since Monday and decided to see the doctor today. Before I get to that point though, I would like to mention that we’ve had so much Xhosa thrown at us, that it’s interesting how much we (collectively) have retained after only five lessons. Today was our sixth lesson, where we focused much on pronunciation, including clicks. The teacher told me that it seems as though I’ve been here in South Africa for a long time (since I can pronounce the words correctly). I’m quite glad that the practice is noticeable in my speech. In any case, after the lesson, we had a lecture on Langa history and development; on Monday, we had a lecture on the educational system in South Africa. After the lecture, we went to Lelape Restaurant, in Langa. The food was so good; I keep thinking that wherever I eat is the best place I have eaten, yet it seems to be getting better with each new place. I haven’t been disappointed with the food at all. Last night, we ate umngqusho, which is samp with beans; it’s very good. However, perhaps it was because I was sick, but I thought it was very spicy. In actuality, it’s quite tasteless unless you add spices to it. Sasa told me she didn’t add any spices.
So, anyway, I went to the doctor’s after lunch; Martin drove me to Rondebosch. On the way, I checked my temperature with the thermometer I brought. He said that the particular one I have is brilliant. It’s a very simple one to use, with a digital reader. What’s really cool is that it illuminates with a different colour, depending on the temperature: a good reading is green, a cautionary-high reading is yellow, and a high, you-better-go-to-the-doctor kind of reading is red. I got to the office about half an hour earlier than my scheduled appointment, so I had to wait around for a bit. However, I saw him on time, went through the checkup and was out the door in about ten to fifteen minutes. Prescriptions in hand, Martin and I walked to Clicks, a pharmacy store, and got my prescriptions filled within about five minutes. We were on our way back to Langa around 4pm; my appointment was at 3:30pm. Try going through all that in the States!
Part B:
For dinner, we had chicken (which, if my parents are reading this tastes just like the chicken you cook with that light green vegetable and the sabow (probably spelling that wrong); usually cooked with small dark green leaves of some kind, too…), and rice with a soup with tomato soaked into the rice, and some cabbage with carrots. I would have taken a picture of it (naturally), but I had given my camera to Elisabeth to take photos of Langa, as I was at the doctor’s office during the tour. Thanks Elisabeth!
Siya came back from his leadership camp today and told me that he’s got a field hockey game coming up, and will be starting with cricket soon. Hopefully I can see him play either/both sometime before I leave. He taught me how to play Crazy 8’s with a normal deck of playing cards, and he, Bayanda and I played many rounds before dinner. It was cool to see their interaction with each other.
One of the most fascinating things I’ve noticed is the use of the word “Preach.” Hopefully I can understand its use better; it seems like one can use it both when you’re hearing something you know is good for you but you just don’t want to hear it, almost like a broken record, or when you support what the other is saying, sort of like a “keep going” type of encouragement.
After dinner, Bayanda, Siya and I watched Epic Movie. That’s all I’ve got to say about that. Pfft.
Sobonana ngomo.
MA
Well, what can I say? I can say two things, really: the weather down here is so unpredictable and I’m sick. Actually, I’ve been sick since Monday and decided to see the doctor today. Before I get to that point though, I would like to mention that we’ve had so much Xhosa thrown at us, that it’s interesting how much we (collectively) have retained after only five lessons. Today was our sixth lesson, where we focused much on pronunciation, including clicks. The teacher told me that it seems as though I’ve been here in South Africa for a long time (since I can pronounce the words correctly). I’m quite glad that the practice is noticeable in my speech. In any case, after the lesson, we had a lecture on Langa history and development; on Monday, we had a lecture on the educational system in South Africa. After the lecture, we went to Lelape Restaurant, in Langa. The food was so good; I keep thinking that wherever I eat is the best place I have eaten, yet it seems to be getting better with each new place. I haven’t been disappointed with the food at all. Last night, we ate umngqusho, which is samp with beans; it’s very good. However, perhaps it was because I was sick, but I thought it was very spicy. In actuality, it’s quite tasteless unless you add spices to it. Sasa told me she didn’t add any spices.
So, anyway, I went to the doctor’s after lunch; Martin drove me to Rondebosch. On the way, I checked my temperature with the thermometer I brought. He said that the particular one I have is brilliant. It’s a very simple one to use, with a digital reader. What’s really cool is that it illuminates with a different colour, depending on the temperature: a good reading is green, a cautionary-high reading is yellow, and a high, you-better-go-to-the-doctor kind of reading is red. I got to the office about half an hour earlier than my scheduled appointment, so I had to wait around for a bit. However, I saw him on time, went through the checkup and was out the door in about ten to fifteen minutes. Prescriptions in hand, Martin and I walked to Clicks, a pharmacy store, and got my prescriptions filled within about five minutes. We were on our way back to Langa around 4pm; my appointment was at 3:30pm. Try going through all that in the States!
Part B:
For dinner, we had chicken (which, if my parents are reading this tastes just like the chicken you cook with that light green vegetable and the sabow (probably spelling that wrong); usually cooked with small dark green leaves of some kind, too…), and rice with a soup with tomato soaked into the rice, and some cabbage with carrots. I would have taken a picture of it (naturally), but I had given my camera to Elisabeth to take photos of Langa, as I was at the doctor’s office during the tour. Thanks Elisabeth!
Siya came back from his leadership camp today and told me that he’s got a field hockey game coming up, and will be starting with cricket soon. Hopefully I can see him play either/both sometime before I leave. He taught me how to play Crazy 8’s with a normal deck of playing cards, and he, Bayanda and I played many rounds before dinner. It was cool to see their interaction with each other.
One of the most fascinating things I’ve noticed is the use of the word “Preach.” Hopefully I can understand its use better; it seems like one can use it both when you’re hearing something you know is good for you but you just don’t want to hear it, almost like a broken record, or when you support what the other is saying, sort of like a “keep going” type of encouragement.
After dinner, Bayanda, Siya and I watched Epic Movie. That’s all I’ve got to say about that. Pfft.
Sobonana ngomo.
MA
I can finally update! Part 4
11 September 2008
A short entry for today: As people back home commemorate 9/11, I just wanted to note that South Africans are commemorating the death of Steve Biko, an important figure in the struggle against apartheid. After classes, we went to the University of Cape Town’s upper campus and listened to what I consider to be an eloquent lecture that brought forward the realities of living in South Africa. I shall not write about what others thought, but I will write that it certainly got us talking afterwards.
For dinner, I had beef (which, once again, reminded me about Filipino cooking back home in Michigan) along with pap and many “soft” vegetables—pumpkin, potato and another one I couldn’t quite tell in its cooked state. The meat was great (I even had tomato sauce with it!). As for the other foods, they were great on their own. However, try eating a bunch of that at once and eh… but still very good!
MA
Ps/ I’m feeling extremely better than the past few days, and the weather has been cooperating much more!
A short entry for today: As people back home commemorate 9/11, I just wanted to note that South Africans are commemorating the death of Steve Biko, an important figure in the struggle against apartheid. After classes, we went to the University of Cape Town’s upper campus and listened to what I consider to be an eloquent lecture that brought forward the realities of living in South Africa. I shall not write about what others thought, but I will write that it certainly got us talking afterwards.
For dinner, I had beef (which, once again, reminded me about Filipino cooking back home in Michigan) along with pap and many “soft” vegetables—pumpkin, potato and another one I couldn’t quite tell in its cooked state. The meat was great (I even had tomato sauce with it!). As for the other foods, they were great on their own. However, try eating a bunch of that at once and eh… but still very good!
MA
Ps/ I’m feeling extremely better than the past few days, and the weather has been cooperating much more!
I can finally update! Part 2
7 September 2008
Well, just as I thought, I have so much to say about my first South African Mass, and as always, I hope I write down everything I wish to write.
After my breakfast of cornflakes with sugar (which definitely tasted like Frosted Flakes) and leftover chocolate chip muffin from Cape Town, I headed off to Mass at the Catholic church in Langa. Siya, Bayanda and I left ahead of everyone else and through the cold wind, which definitely made me feel as though I wasn’t experiencing a Michigan fall after all, we made it to St. Anthony’s. The structure of the church looked like a quaint little building, but I had eventually witnessed that it holds a lot more than I thought. In any case, there was a raised pulpit with a bit of an enclosure (which I hadn’t expected) and instead of being separate, the choir was a part of the congregation in the front of the church. I didn’t see any choir books in the pews and soon found out that everyone brings their own copy. (Side note: I need to buy a copy.)
The Mass opened up with two songs, both in Xhosa and the second one welcoming the altar servers and priest. Then, I sat in my seat following the order of the Mass, but still equally lost, as everything was said almost entirely in Xhosa. As I was toward the back of the Church, it was a little difficult to hear, but I eventually heard (often too late) a language I recognised and could actually participate in. Seamlessly, the readers, priest and congregation transitioned from Xhosa to Latin to English back and around again. Each section wasn’t translated into each of these languages, but rather, different sections were basically monolingual. For example, the opening greeting was in Xhosa, as well as the first reading, and the second reading was in English. I also caught the Gloria, a few Sanctus, some Ave Marias, a Thixo (God) now and again, Molweni (Hello), many enkosi’s (thank you), and so forth. Luckily I remembered the order of Mass pretty well to follow along. The priest’s homily was delivered in both English and Xhosa; I was able to laugh along with the rest of the congregation to his English stories and jokes, yet remember feeling lost when everyone laughed at a statement said in Xhosa. A statement the priest said stuck to me when he said it: “No one can make you angry. You choose to be angry.” This got me thinking; we all certainly have so many choices to make, and likewise, we may choose to be happy and enjoy life, whether we face good or bad. From the vibe of the crowd, everyone was so lively and happy to be at Mass. I even saw many kids from the community attending and sitting by themselves (at the end of Mass they also went to school; perhaps a Sunday school type of thing?). Though I didn’t know enough Xhosa, the music still very much filled me. As I heard what felt like Gospel/praise music, I was emotionally charged to see everyone swaying and perhaps semi-dancing in the music to the beat of the sounds, a beat that brought to mind a single, controllable heartbeat for the community. Even the priest was quite enjoying the music. Perhaps this may all seem like an odd image, but simply taking it from the context that I couldn’t understand the words, the musical component to it was simply amazing. Cognisant that there is a theological meaning to it, the experience was awe-inspiring. Much more than what we sing at Mass in the States was definitely sung today at Mass here in Langa; unsurprisingly, the Mass in total was two hours long.
For those environmentalist friends of mine who may be reading this, I’d also like to point out that, in the front of the Mass guide, was a very well written article entitled “Environmental Ethics Needs Reverence and Gratitude,” which is part of a larger series called “Greening the Liturgical Green Season: Faith and the Environment” (currently, Catholics are celebrating “Ordinary Time,” a period in the Church calendar that is represented in colour by the colour green).
There are a few things that I’d like to close with. First, during the shaking of hands portion of the Mass, many people moved around to shake hands and share a greeting of peace to fellow congregants. In contrast to what I see as a more or less robotic greeting back in the States, this certainly acted as a confirmation of an observation that I have been seeing regularly here: a great sense of family. In Xhosa culture, one often uses Mama, Tata, Sisi and Bhuti. Regardless of how many people are in a family, or how you’re related to someone else, you’re still basically recognised as one of the aforementioned titles. So, one’s aunt may still be considered as Mama; Cousins interact more closely as siblings. Moreover, there is a holistic sense of community involvement. The priest talked about those coming to St. Anthony’s becomes not one person’s responsibility, but the whole community’s responsibility. Within a Xhosa household, relatives or friends may drop by on a whim and many times without letting you know ahead of time; regardless, they are still welcomed in and are taken care of. This sort of community similarly reminds me of Filipino culture in so many respects. In terms of a sense of “home,” I was also moved to see that each of the altar servers wore the Coptic cross that also is represented of my home parish, the Church of the Transfiguration. Finally, a woman sitting next to me must have seen that I was a bit lost during the responsorial psalm and pointed out to me that the Xhosa version (which was being said, though the English translation was also on the Mass guide) was inside the Mass guide. It reads “Njengokuba namhlanje niliphulaphula ilizwi lakhe! Musani ukuzenza lukhuni iinhliziyo zenu.” I tried to get it right and at the right speed; by the time I was getting the hang of it, the responsorial was finished. I am entirely determined to learn this language as quickly as possible so I can work on speeding up my Xhosa.
Peace,
MA
PART B:
For dinner, we had rice, potatoes, cabbage, beans (as in pork and beans, sans pork), and chicken. As I ate the food, as has been the case with many other things here in Langa, I was reminded of home. The chicken, to me, tasted like adobo, one of my favourite foods, and the national dish of the Philippines. I explained this to Mama, Sasa and Vuvu. Vuvu, in turn, told me how she prepared the food and mentioned Worster sauce. I then followed up by explaining briefly how my mom cooks it; when I said that the chicken is usually cooked in vinegar, the reaction of the three confirmed my tasting ability. Worster sauce, apparently, is majority vinegar.
As a brief aside, Sasa wanted me to try fat cakes after Mass and so we went to a local food stand (although a better explanation on my part is that it looked more like an outdoor cooking stand with an overhung roof, much like what one may find at a sporting event. In any case, this reminded me of the stands I remember seeing in the Philippines as we walked around the neighbourhood. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get the fat cakes (Sasa told me these are very similar to our American doughnuts), but we did get some great rolls (they also top it off with what seemed like a fish paste).
Anyway, after dinner I was given my Xhosa name: Ntsikelelo (Nasal N-tsee-keh-LAY-loh), the shortened version sounding something like ‘Nasal N-tsee-Kay.’ In Xhosa, ntsikelelo means “blessed.” Mama followed up by saying that they feel blessed to have me as their first Catholic home stay student. I certainly feel equally blessed to have such a caring home stay family, as well as this amazing opportunity overall. This has been such an amazing journey so far. It’s only day 10.
Well, just as I thought, I have so much to say about my first South African Mass, and as always, I hope I write down everything I wish to write.
After my breakfast of cornflakes with sugar (which definitely tasted like Frosted Flakes) and leftover chocolate chip muffin from Cape Town, I headed off to Mass at the Catholic church in Langa. Siya, Bayanda and I left ahead of everyone else and through the cold wind, which definitely made me feel as though I wasn’t experiencing a Michigan fall after all, we made it to St. Anthony’s. The structure of the church looked like a quaint little building, but I had eventually witnessed that it holds a lot more than I thought. In any case, there was a raised pulpit with a bit of an enclosure (which I hadn’t expected) and instead of being separate, the choir was a part of the congregation in the front of the church. I didn’t see any choir books in the pews and soon found out that everyone brings their own copy. (Side note: I need to buy a copy.)
The Mass opened up with two songs, both in Xhosa and the second one welcoming the altar servers and priest. Then, I sat in my seat following the order of the Mass, but still equally lost, as everything was said almost entirely in Xhosa. As I was toward the back of the Church, it was a little difficult to hear, but I eventually heard (often too late) a language I recognised and could actually participate in. Seamlessly, the readers, priest and congregation transitioned from Xhosa to Latin to English back and around again. Each section wasn’t translated into each of these languages, but rather, different sections were basically monolingual. For example, the opening greeting was in Xhosa, as well as the first reading, and the second reading was in English. I also caught the Gloria, a few Sanctus, some Ave Marias, a Thixo (God) now and again, Molweni (Hello), many enkosi’s (thank you), and so forth. Luckily I remembered the order of Mass pretty well to follow along. The priest’s homily was delivered in both English and Xhosa; I was able to laugh along with the rest of the congregation to his English stories and jokes, yet remember feeling lost when everyone laughed at a statement said in Xhosa. A statement the priest said stuck to me when he said it: “No one can make you angry. You choose to be angry.” This got me thinking; we all certainly have so many choices to make, and likewise, we may choose to be happy and enjoy life, whether we face good or bad. From the vibe of the crowd, everyone was so lively and happy to be at Mass. I even saw many kids from the community attending and sitting by themselves (at the end of Mass they also went to school; perhaps a Sunday school type of thing?). Though I didn’t know enough Xhosa, the music still very much filled me. As I heard what felt like Gospel/praise music, I was emotionally charged to see everyone swaying and perhaps semi-dancing in the music to the beat of the sounds, a beat that brought to mind a single, controllable heartbeat for the community. Even the priest was quite enjoying the music. Perhaps this may all seem like an odd image, but simply taking it from the context that I couldn’t understand the words, the musical component to it was simply amazing. Cognisant that there is a theological meaning to it, the experience was awe-inspiring. Much more than what we sing at Mass in the States was definitely sung today at Mass here in Langa; unsurprisingly, the Mass in total was two hours long.
For those environmentalist friends of mine who may be reading this, I’d also like to point out that, in the front of the Mass guide, was a very well written article entitled “Environmental Ethics Needs Reverence and Gratitude,” which is part of a larger series called “Greening the Liturgical Green Season: Faith and the Environment” (currently, Catholics are celebrating “Ordinary Time,” a period in the Church calendar that is represented in colour by the colour green).
There are a few things that I’d like to close with. First, during the shaking of hands portion of the Mass, many people moved around to shake hands and share a greeting of peace to fellow congregants. In contrast to what I see as a more or less robotic greeting back in the States, this certainly acted as a confirmation of an observation that I have been seeing regularly here: a great sense of family. In Xhosa culture, one often uses Mama, Tata, Sisi and Bhuti. Regardless of how many people are in a family, or how you’re related to someone else, you’re still basically recognised as one of the aforementioned titles. So, one’s aunt may still be considered as Mama; Cousins interact more closely as siblings. Moreover, there is a holistic sense of community involvement. The priest talked about those coming to St. Anthony’s becomes not one person’s responsibility, but the whole community’s responsibility. Within a Xhosa household, relatives or friends may drop by on a whim and many times without letting you know ahead of time; regardless, they are still welcomed in and are taken care of. This sort of community similarly reminds me of Filipino culture in so many respects. In terms of a sense of “home,” I was also moved to see that each of the altar servers wore the Coptic cross that also is represented of my home parish, the Church of the Transfiguration. Finally, a woman sitting next to me must have seen that I was a bit lost during the responsorial psalm and pointed out to me that the Xhosa version (which was being said, though the English translation was also on the Mass guide) was inside the Mass guide. It reads “Njengokuba namhlanje niliphulaphula ilizwi lakhe! Musani ukuzenza lukhuni iinhliziyo zenu.” I tried to get it right and at the right speed; by the time I was getting the hang of it, the responsorial was finished. I am entirely determined to learn this language as quickly as possible so I can work on speeding up my Xhosa.
Peace,
MA
PART B:
For dinner, we had rice, potatoes, cabbage, beans (as in pork and beans, sans pork), and chicken. As I ate the food, as has been the case with many other things here in Langa, I was reminded of home. The chicken, to me, tasted like adobo, one of my favourite foods, and the national dish of the Philippines. I explained this to Mama, Sasa and Vuvu. Vuvu, in turn, told me how she prepared the food and mentioned Worster sauce. I then followed up by explaining briefly how my mom cooks it; when I said that the chicken is usually cooked in vinegar, the reaction of the three confirmed my tasting ability. Worster sauce, apparently, is majority vinegar.
As a brief aside, Sasa wanted me to try fat cakes after Mass and so we went to a local food stand (although a better explanation on my part is that it looked more like an outdoor cooking stand with an overhung roof, much like what one may find at a sporting event. In any case, this reminded me of the stands I remember seeing in the Philippines as we walked around the neighbourhood. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get the fat cakes (Sasa told me these are very similar to our American doughnuts), but we did get some great rolls (they also top it off with what seemed like a fish paste).
Anyway, after dinner I was given my Xhosa name: Ntsikelelo (Nasal N-tsee-keh-LAY-loh), the shortened version sounding something like ‘Nasal N-tsee-Kay.’ In Xhosa, ntsikelelo means “blessed.” Mama followed up by saying that they feel blessed to have me as their first Catholic home stay student. I certainly feel equally blessed to have such a caring home stay family, as well as this amazing opportunity overall. This has been such an amazing journey so far. It’s only day 10.
I can finally update! Part 1
6 September 2008
Wow. I feel as though I have so much to catch up on since I last wrote of my South African journey. I have decided to write in both French and English, so I apologise ahead of time if you can’t read in the language I write in; I have truly begun to recognise the importance and meaning behind practicing in a language of comfort. For now, it’s the language I can think most clearly in at the time I decide to write. Soon enough I shall translate, should the demand really exist. In any event, here is the continuation of my journey, starting from three nights ago:
We had moved from the backpacker lodge in Jo’burg, and after about a two hour flight, which included a wonderful dinner (I believe I had beef with pasta), we arrived in Cape Town, where we were greeted by Tabisa (the student liaison who will be travelling with us on our journey) and Fika (the third of our daily drivers and the one in charge of arranging transports). We made our way to Sunflower (Backpackers’) Lodge, in Cape Town, by the Waterfront. After a good night’s rest, we were introduced to our home for the next month or so: the SIT classroom and facilities.
The SIT office and classroom is situated in Rondebosch, about a 5-10 minute’s walk from the University of Cape Town’s lower campus. There, we were greeted by Maggie (the Office Manager), Shane (our Academic Director who has been with us throughout our orientation week), and a few messages from previous South Africa: MSC students. We signed a few pieces of paperwork to open up our accounts while in South Africa and had a medical briefing with the programme doctor. Following lunch (I had a wonderful pizza sub and chocolate milkshake at St. –’s… the name eludes me at the moment), we had our third Xhosa lesson, the first course taught in the new classroom (SIT transferred the classroom location, as well as a few offices). After a lengthening of our introductory Xhosa base, we went to a shopping centre; we have our first formal Xhosa class (i.e., with our text book) on Monday.
At the shopping centre, I perhaps bought more than I absolutely needed, but I was very happy with what I found. Among the items is a 2010 World Cup jacket that was very much discounted (I’m guessing it’s because much of the apparel has been produced, but there’s still a bit of time before the World Cup actually takes place). If I’m not mistaken, South Africa is the first African nation to host the World Cup, and everywhere I go the World Cup has a visible presence—from the building of stadiums to renovations and additions of shopping centres to posters. Looking at my list of things I really, really, really want to get, I noticed that I neglected to include something (which I ended up purchasing at the shopping centre): a Xhosa Bible. It’s so cool but there’s no translation, so perhaps I’ll have to read it along with an English Bible; heck, I better throw in my all-French Bible too while I’m at it. Anyway, I also bought a pocket Xhosa phrasebook. Emma, Lara, Jenny, Brittney, Amy, Dyana, Elisabeth and I went to a fabulous Thai restaurant that overlooked the Waterfront. The sky was dark, but the surrounding lights reflected against the water. I ate California rolls and Satay chicken (or is it chicken Satay?). In any event, it was delicious. Dyana and I also got Shirley Temples that ended up tasting like a fruit punch sherbet with Sprite/7-Up type of drink.
On Friday, we all took part in a “drop-off”. I don’t mean to spoil it for anyone that eventually goes on the programme, but this was one of my favourite experiences so far while in South Africa. Basically, imagine “the Amazing Race” crossing “the Mole” multiply it by twenty and realise you’re actually in it, rather than just watching it. That’s how great it was. I ended up having to find my way to the Bo-Kaap Museum. As I approached the cobblestone, I realised that things looked just a bit different. I ended up asking three people for directions, and they helped me without thinking twice about helping. (Ethnographic note: people who seemed to have a better grasp of English were more easily able to help me—obviously—but if I threw in a little bit of the Xhosa I knew, those people were just as keen to helping me.) The Bo-Kaap is the Muslim area of Cape Town, once known as the Malay Quarter during the apartheid era. In retrospect, it took me a while to realise that the Bo-Kaap is where we’ll be having one of our home stays. I can’t wait to go back, primarily for the following events.
I walked to the front of what looked like a house, rather than what I would expect to be a museum, and was greeted by a woman dressed in traditional Muslim clothing. Upon entering, I paid the entrance fee and began the self-guided tour. There was so much interesting information that I shan’t write about all of it here, but in any case, I did come to learn that this museum is meant to represent what life was like for Cape Malays in the 19th century, which would explain why I walked up to a house. As I continued on, I realised that perhaps there was more to this drop-off than met the eye. It was certainly convenient that my research interests and potential direction for my ISP/thesis is on ethnolinguistics and religion. In short, I began formulating questions about the museum itself, but started to frame my thought processes around the sort of work I will soon be doing in a few month’s time. At the end of the tour, I began asking my questions and the lady who had first let me into the museum was so kind as to answer them. Even more so, I began feeling the kind of personal connections that makes me feel as though I really do have a purpose here in South Africa, that I belong here. I suppose semi-unexpectedly, I have truly begun to fall in love with South Africa. In any event, the museum worker told me about her family and the importance of Islam in her life and within the context of South Africa. I also shall not inundate my blog with my research findings per se, but I would like to mention that this first “interview” certainly built up confidence in my research and the direction I plan on taking with it. After our conversation, another museum worker took a great picture of the two of us, and the former provided me some contact info for a city tour guide. Have I mentioned already that South Africans are wonderful resources and so caring and helpful?
After I left the museum, I talked to a black South African sitting on some steps near the museum and briefly talked to her about life in the area. I’m not so sure how much we understood each other, but just sitting next to her and seeing her in her current state moved me. With that said, as I was walking down to try and find a nearby café, I stopped into a shoe shop and asked a guy in there if it was okay to ask him a few questions about life in the Bo-Kaap. He told me that his family is the only Hindu one in the area, and that during apartheid, his family was forced to move out under the laws and regulations; luckily, the business itself was allowed to stay there, and to this day, it is still in operation (and he plans on keeping it open). From what I gathered between him and the museum worker, it seems as though there is a sentiment of sadness/concern that those in the Bo-Kaap may be witnessing the encroachment of wealth and prosperity for those not originally from the Bo-Kaap, especially since that area is considered as “prime” territory. At one point, I heard a phrase that caught me by surprise: “selling one’s heritage”. How true is that today?
Along my way to finding a café, I stopped by an African music store and saw djimbes (at least I now know a price to which I can compare future djimbes). I did buy another Xhosa CD and a really sick bracelet. (I feel I must insert that I’ve recently heard/read the following terminology in the past few days: “sick”=cool, “chick”=girl, “paw paw”=papaya, “relieved”=stolen, “shame”=an expression of sympathy, “okay!”(varying tones)=you’re welcome, it’s nothing.) With that money spent, I then realised that I didn’t have that much money with me, as we were told not to bring our backpacks with us. (I had also been seeking out the Long Street Café for about an hour, with about half a dozen to a dozen people pointing me in so many directions.) After finding a bank and waiting in line for about 20 minutes, I was told that their exchange bureau wasn’t up and running. Pressed for time, I retreated to a nearby café, and ordered from the menu with the exact cost in mind (tax is already included in the prices, which makes for easier math). And that’s when it happened… two guys walked in quietly speaking in a language I thought I recognised. I quietly ate my mocha muffin and drank my fruit cocktail juice as I tried to pick out the accent and random words. I gathered up some courage and after the suspense, I was right… they were FRENCH! French flew out of my mouth so quickly I wasn’t sure if I sounded nervous or just really confident. In the end, they commented that my French is very good (who knows in actuality), which in any case comforted my fears that I would lose my French as I learned Xhosa. After our conversation, it was time to pay the bill and that’s when I found out that it was three rands more than I expected, and ordering based on exact amounts, I didn’t know what to do. Well, I explained my situation and one of the workers (perhaps even manager) explained why the costs were different (a matter of updating the menus); instead of the expected accosting and frustration, she kindly pointed me out to the nearest bank and trusted I would return to pay the bill after I exchanged my money (which I ended up doing). South Africans are so kind here! I can’t stress this enough. With time closing in on me, I decided to head over to my final destination. Along the way, two things happened. First, I came across a Methodist church and realised that it was on the same street as the Bo-Kaap, but just on the other end. Second, I walked upon an outdoor market, which means only one thing: I had to stop and look around. The first and only stall I ended up visiting had a variety of necklaces. For one necklace in particular (one for myself), the vendor took particular time for me and helped me choose a necklace that I ended up fitting me perfectly. The last act of kindness I experienced on this particular journey was on the last leg of my “mission”. I asked a street vendor where the destination was and he told me that he didn’t know where it was, but brought me to a public safety officer because he would be more likely to know. It turns out he didn’t know, but told me to wait a minute while he radioed the other public safety officers, ensuring that he would get me to where I needed to be. Eventually, he got a confirmation as to its location and walked me directly to the destination.
Everyone then met up at the classroom and debriefed this spectacle (okay, perhaps not that extravagant). Nevertheless, we all learned something from this experience and heard amazing stories as to what others experienced. Of the many things I learned, one holds much importance: in South Africa, look right, left, right, when crossing the street, rather than left, right, left, as in the States.
While I’m thinking of it, I’d like to mention that while in Jo’burg, we visited Museum Afrika, the Market Theatre (where Collin bought a bag of caterpillars, and I stumbled upon an office of the Institut de la République Française), the Constitutional Court, Regina Mundi, the Hector Pieterson Memorial and the Apartheid Museum—al of which were excellent, but not of them which I remember mentioned 1984 and/or the Kairos document (both being aspects that are important to my research).
Back to the rest of the story, after the debriefing, we all dressed up and went out to Marco’s, an African-themed restaurant. We met with many staff members and their families, including Martin’s son, and the three Xhosa tutorial leaders. After an AMAZING meal (the pasta and especially the lamb were superb), we all decided to check out Long Street and the night life. Eventually, Elisabeth, Jessica and I broke off from the rest of the group went to Tonic before settling in Jo’burg (the club, NOT the actual city two hours away by plane). We were soon joined by Brittney, and the four of us went to the adjoining club, Pretoria. There, we danced to hip-hop music (though house music is very popular) and met four local guys who were SO nice to us. One of them does stand-up was hilarious and the eight of us formed a dancing circle and had tons of fun (they even got me to dance in the middle a few times). We got a taxi afterwards and the driver (accidentally dropping us off a few buildings away) stayed close by until he was sure we got back to the lodge. I think I need not reiterate again…
Then, it happened: the day all of us were anticipating the most—the day we meet our host families. Today, we had a debriefing session with Mama (Nomawethu) and after checking out of our rooms, went to lunch. Elisabeth and I went to a nearby store and chose our meals (it’s still taking some getting used to the fact that a complete meal costs no more than ten American dollars). I, naturally, also bought some chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin (a common reaction of this being a normal thing for me was finally established within the group). We then drove to Langa and were greeted by a police officer, who filled us in on Langa, the township that is to be our home for the next month-ish. Following this, we went back to our vans (grouped just as we would be during our morning pick-ups), and one-by-one were dropped off at our home stay locations.
Prior to this, we recently (before lunch) received letters from our host families. On the way to Langa, I constantly re-read my letter from Siya, and continuously checking just to make sure that this was really happening; it certainly was. With open arms (just as Siya had told me), his family welcomed me as one of their own. I met Vuvu, Siya’s mother and soon met Mama (Nomalizo), Vuvu’s mother. I chatted with them briefly and easily transitioned to the area I was quite excited about: we (the family and I) are all Roman Catholic. I was so happy at the reaction that followed (not to say I wouldn’t be equally happier elsewhere). I then left the house just as quickly as I had come in, as Sasa, Bayanda and Siya came to fetch me, as we were all to go grocery shopping. Along the way, I spoke with Siya (of whom I had known for just a brief hour or so, based on a single letter), and began getting to know him. Sasa is his aunt, Bayanda being Sasa’s son; both Sasa and Vuvu are Mama’s daughters. Siya just recently turned 17, and though he is younger than me, I certainly look up to him—not only literally—but more so in the sense that he knows the area a lot more than I do. He speaks English, Xhosa and Zulu, and has a wonderfully deep, South African accent, undoubtedly influenced by the fact that he also recently returned from London about a month ago; he’ll be going to Argentina next year. He plays hockey and cricket, and goes to an all-boys boarding school. After our grocery stops, I visited his campus, which to me seems about as big, if not bigger, than Albion’s campus. Bayanda is certainly like a younger brother to me, and is full of so much energy it’s amazing. I also met Victor, one of Mama’s two sons.
When we got home, I helped Sasa cook dinner (and by the time she plated it, she mentioned that I should have had a picture taken of me cooking my first meal in Langa; I at least took a photo of my first meal in Langa). As we awaited the potatoes to be done cooking, Mama, Sasa, Vuvu and I talked about many things: life in Langa, the different priests in the area, languages during any given Mass, families, and so forth. I feel so lucky to be here, especially as reality is certainly matching (and exceeding) any expectations I may have had. Of the things we talked about, two things seemed to surprise them most: the number of guys in this particular group and the fact that I’m Catholic. As Shane had mentioned earlier in the week, guys are always in the minority, with two or three guys in the group; this time around, we have five. I also feel confident in saying that the five of us have bonded quite well in the past week, and I certainly hope we continue to do so. Moreover (and especially good news), of the 15 or more students Mama and her family have hosted, none of them have been Catholic. Apparently, then, I’m the first one, and I’m so excited to go to Mass tomorrow. It’s about midnight as I write this, and will have to end shortly. Mass is at 9:30am, and goes on for about two to two-and-a-half hours. It’s said in multiple languages (including Xhosa and English), and there’s to be a lot of singing. Afterwards, Siya and I are supposed to walk around Langa.
I then presented my gifts for the family. Alongside the book of Michigan that I got for them, I shared some dark chocolate with Mama and the family, and they quite enjoyed it. Moreover, they seemed to be impressed with the Target zip-up red pocket bags I got and gave each of them (Mama, Sasa and Vuvu) their own bag. I then showed them pictures from my surprise birthday party. (They said I look like my mom and my sister looks like my dad.)
After eating dinner (pasta with a homemade sauce that was of Sasa’s creation), Siya, Bayanda and I watched a movie before heading off to bed. I then commenced writing to catch all of you up with what’s been going on here in South Africa. I think I shall read a bit from my Izibhalo Ezingcwele and practice some new Xhosa phrases before I sleep.
Until next time, sala kahle!
M.A.
Wow. I feel as though I have so much to catch up on since I last wrote of my South African journey. I have decided to write in both French and English, so I apologise ahead of time if you can’t read in the language I write in; I have truly begun to recognise the importance and meaning behind practicing in a language of comfort. For now, it’s the language I can think most clearly in at the time I decide to write. Soon enough I shall translate, should the demand really exist. In any event, here is the continuation of my journey, starting from three nights ago:
We had moved from the backpacker lodge in Jo’burg, and after about a two hour flight, which included a wonderful dinner (I believe I had beef with pasta), we arrived in Cape Town, where we were greeted by Tabisa (the student liaison who will be travelling with us on our journey) and Fika (the third of our daily drivers and the one in charge of arranging transports). We made our way to Sunflower (Backpackers’) Lodge, in Cape Town, by the Waterfront. After a good night’s rest, we were introduced to our home for the next month or so: the SIT classroom and facilities.
The SIT office and classroom is situated in Rondebosch, about a 5-10 minute’s walk from the University of Cape Town’s lower campus. There, we were greeted by Maggie (the Office Manager), Shane (our Academic Director who has been with us throughout our orientation week), and a few messages from previous South Africa: MSC students. We signed a few pieces of paperwork to open up our accounts while in South Africa and had a medical briefing with the programme doctor. Following lunch (I had a wonderful pizza sub and chocolate milkshake at St. –’s… the name eludes me at the moment), we had our third Xhosa lesson, the first course taught in the new classroom (SIT transferred the classroom location, as well as a few offices). After a lengthening of our introductory Xhosa base, we went to a shopping centre; we have our first formal Xhosa class (i.e., with our text book) on Monday.
At the shopping centre, I perhaps bought more than I absolutely needed, but I was very happy with what I found. Among the items is a 2010 World Cup jacket that was very much discounted (I’m guessing it’s because much of the apparel has been produced, but there’s still a bit of time before the World Cup actually takes place). If I’m not mistaken, South Africa is the first African nation to host the World Cup, and everywhere I go the World Cup has a visible presence—from the building of stadiums to renovations and additions of shopping centres to posters. Looking at my list of things I really, really, really want to get, I noticed that I neglected to include something (which I ended up purchasing at the shopping centre): a Xhosa Bible. It’s so cool but there’s no translation, so perhaps I’ll have to read it along with an English Bible; heck, I better throw in my all-French Bible too while I’m at it. Anyway, I also bought a pocket Xhosa phrasebook. Emma, Lara, Jenny, Brittney, Amy, Dyana, Elisabeth and I went to a fabulous Thai restaurant that overlooked the Waterfront. The sky was dark, but the surrounding lights reflected against the water. I ate California rolls and Satay chicken (or is it chicken Satay?). In any event, it was delicious. Dyana and I also got Shirley Temples that ended up tasting like a fruit punch sherbet with Sprite/7-Up type of drink.
On Friday, we all took part in a “drop-off”. I don’t mean to spoil it for anyone that eventually goes on the programme, but this was one of my favourite experiences so far while in South Africa. Basically, imagine “the Amazing Race” crossing “the Mole” multiply it by twenty and realise you’re actually in it, rather than just watching it. That’s how great it was. I ended up having to find my way to the Bo-Kaap Museum. As I approached the cobblestone, I realised that things looked just a bit different. I ended up asking three people for directions, and they helped me without thinking twice about helping. (Ethnographic note: people who seemed to have a better grasp of English were more easily able to help me—obviously—but if I threw in a little bit of the Xhosa I knew, those people were just as keen to helping me.) The Bo-Kaap is the Muslim area of Cape Town, once known as the Malay Quarter during the apartheid era. In retrospect, it took me a while to realise that the Bo-Kaap is where we’ll be having one of our home stays. I can’t wait to go back, primarily for the following events.
I walked to the front of what looked like a house, rather than what I would expect to be a museum, and was greeted by a woman dressed in traditional Muslim clothing. Upon entering, I paid the entrance fee and began the self-guided tour. There was so much interesting information that I shan’t write about all of it here, but in any case, I did come to learn that this museum is meant to represent what life was like for Cape Malays in the 19th century, which would explain why I walked up to a house. As I continued on, I realised that perhaps there was more to this drop-off than met the eye. It was certainly convenient that my research interests and potential direction for my ISP/thesis is on ethnolinguistics and religion. In short, I began formulating questions about the museum itself, but started to frame my thought processes around the sort of work I will soon be doing in a few month’s time. At the end of the tour, I began asking my questions and the lady who had first let me into the museum was so kind as to answer them. Even more so, I began feeling the kind of personal connections that makes me feel as though I really do have a purpose here in South Africa, that I belong here. I suppose semi-unexpectedly, I have truly begun to fall in love with South Africa. In any event, the museum worker told me about her family and the importance of Islam in her life and within the context of South Africa. I also shall not inundate my blog with my research findings per se, but I would like to mention that this first “interview” certainly built up confidence in my research and the direction I plan on taking with it. After our conversation, another museum worker took a great picture of the two of us, and the former provided me some contact info for a city tour guide. Have I mentioned already that South Africans are wonderful resources and so caring and helpful?
After I left the museum, I talked to a black South African sitting on some steps near the museum and briefly talked to her about life in the area. I’m not so sure how much we understood each other, but just sitting next to her and seeing her in her current state moved me. With that said, as I was walking down to try and find a nearby café, I stopped into a shoe shop and asked a guy in there if it was okay to ask him a few questions about life in the Bo-Kaap. He told me that his family is the only Hindu one in the area, and that during apartheid, his family was forced to move out under the laws and regulations; luckily, the business itself was allowed to stay there, and to this day, it is still in operation (and he plans on keeping it open). From what I gathered between him and the museum worker, it seems as though there is a sentiment of sadness/concern that those in the Bo-Kaap may be witnessing the encroachment of wealth and prosperity for those not originally from the Bo-Kaap, especially since that area is considered as “prime” territory. At one point, I heard a phrase that caught me by surprise: “selling one’s heritage”. How true is that today?
Along my way to finding a café, I stopped by an African music store and saw djimbes (at least I now know a price to which I can compare future djimbes). I did buy another Xhosa CD and a really sick bracelet. (I feel I must insert that I’ve recently heard/read the following terminology in the past few days: “sick”=cool, “chick”=girl, “paw paw”=papaya, “relieved”=stolen, “shame”=an expression of sympathy, “okay!”(varying tones)=you’re welcome, it’s nothing.) With that money spent, I then realised that I didn’t have that much money with me, as we were told not to bring our backpacks with us. (I had also been seeking out the Long Street Café for about an hour, with about half a dozen to a dozen people pointing me in so many directions.) After finding a bank and waiting in line for about 20 minutes, I was told that their exchange bureau wasn’t up and running. Pressed for time, I retreated to a nearby café, and ordered from the menu with the exact cost in mind (tax is already included in the prices, which makes for easier math). And that’s when it happened… two guys walked in quietly speaking in a language I thought I recognised. I quietly ate my mocha muffin and drank my fruit cocktail juice as I tried to pick out the accent and random words. I gathered up some courage and after the suspense, I was right… they were FRENCH! French flew out of my mouth so quickly I wasn’t sure if I sounded nervous or just really confident. In the end, they commented that my French is very good (who knows in actuality), which in any case comforted my fears that I would lose my French as I learned Xhosa. After our conversation, it was time to pay the bill and that’s when I found out that it was three rands more than I expected, and ordering based on exact amounts, I didn’t know what to do. Well, I explained my situation and one of the workers (perhaps even manager) explained why the costs were different (a matter of updating the menus); instead of the expected accosting and frustration, she kindly pointed me out to the nearest bank and trusted I would return to pay the bill after I exchanged my money (which I ended up doing). South Africans are so kind here! I can’t stress this enough. With time closing in on me, I decided to head over to my final destination. Along the way, two things happened. First, I came across a Methodist church and realised that it was on the same street as the Bo-Kaap, but just on the other end. Second, I walked upon an outdoor market, which means only one thing: I had to stop and look around. The first and only stall I ended up visiting had a variety of necklaces. For one necklace in particular (one for myself), the vendor took particular time for me and helped me choose a necklace that I ended up fitting me perfectly. The last act of kindness I experienced on this particular journey was on the last leg of my “mission”. I asked a street vendor where the destination was and he told me that he didn’t know where it was, but brought me to a public safety officer because he would be more likely to know. It turns out he didn’t know, but told me to wait a minute while he radioed the other public safety officers, ensuring that he would get me to where I needed to be. Eventually, he got a confirmation as to its location and walked me directly to the destination.
Everyone then met up at the classroom and debriefed this spectacle (okay, perhaps not that extravagant). Nevertheless, we all learned something from this experience and heard amazing stories as to what others experienced. Of the many things I learned, one holds much importance: in South Africa, look right, left, right, when crossing the street, rather than left, right, left, as in the States.
While I’m thinking of it, I’d like to mention that while in Jo’burg, we visited Museum Afrika, the Market Theatre (where Collin bought a bag of caterpillars, and I stumbled upon an office of the Institut de la République Française), the Constitutional Court, Regina Mundi, the Hector Pieterson Memorial and the Apartheid Museum—al of which were excellent, but not of them which I remember mentioned 1984 and/or the Kairos document (both being aspects that are important to my research).
Back to the rest of the story, after the debriefing, we all dressed up and went out to Marco’s, an African-themed restaurant. We met with many staff members and their families, including Martin’s son, and the three Xhosa tutorial leaders. After an AMAZING meal (the pasta and especially the lamb were superb), we all decided to check out Long Street and the night life. Eventually, Elisabeth, Jessica and I broke off from the rest of the group went to Tonic before settling in Jo’burg (the club, NOT the actual city two hours away by plane). We were soon joined by Brittney, and the four of us went to the adjoining club, Pretoria. There, we danced to hip-hop music (though house music is very popular) and met four local guys who were SO nice to us. One of them does stand-up was hilarious and the eight of us formed a dancing circle and had tons of fun (they even got me to dance in the middle a few times). We got a taxi afterwards and the driver (accidentally dropping us off a few buildings away) stayed close by until he was sure we got back to the lodge. I think I need not reiterate again…
Then, it happened: the day all of us were anticipating the most—the day we meet our host families. Today, we had a debriefing session with Mama (Nomawethu) and after checking out of our rooms, went to lunch. Elisabeth and I went to a nearby store and chose our meals (it’s still taking some getting used to the fact that a complete meal costs no more than ten American dollars). I, naturally, also bought some chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin (a common reaction of this being a normal thing for me was finally established within the group). We then drove to Langa and were greeted by a police officer, who filled us in on Langa, the township that is to be our home for the next month-ish. Following this, we went back to our vans (grouped just as we would be during our morning pick-ups), and one-by-one were dropped off at our home stay locations.
Prior to this, we recently (before lunch) received letters from our host families. On the way to Langa, I constantly re-read my letter from Siya, and continuously checking just to make sure that this was really happening; it certainly was. With open arms (just as Siya had told me), his family welcomed me as one of their own. I met Vuvu, Siya’s mother and soon met Mama (Nomalizo), Vuvu’s mother. I chatted with them briefly and easily transitioned to the area I was quite excited about: we (the family and I) are all Roman Catholic. I was so happy at the reaction that followed (not to say I wouldn’t be equally happier elsewhere). I then left the house just as quickly as I had come in, as Sasa, Bayanda and Siya came to fetch me, as we were all to go grocery shopping. Along the way, I spoke with Siya (of whom I had known for just a brief hour or so, based on a single letter), and began getting to know him. Sasa is his aunt, Bayanda being Sasa’s son; both Sasa and Vuvu are Mama’s daughters. Siya just recently turned 17, and though he is younger than me, I certainly look up to him—not only literally—but more so in the sense that he knows the area a lot more than I do. He speaks English, Xhosa and Zulu, and has a wonderfully deep, South African accent, undoubtedly influenced by the fact that he also recently returned from London about a month ago; he’ll be going to Argentina next year. He plays hockey and cricket, and goes to an all-boys boarding school. After our grocery stops, I visited his campus, which to me seems about as big, if not bigger, than Albion’s campus. Bayanda is certainly like a younger brother to me, and is full of so much energy it’s amazing. I also met Victor, one of Mama’s two sons.
When we got home, I helped Sasa cook dinner (and by the time she plated it, she mentioned that I should have had a picture taken of me cooking my first meal in Langa; I at least took a photo of my first meal in Langa). As we awaited the potatoes to be done cooking, Mama, Sasa, Vuvu and I talked about many things: life in Langa, the different priests in the area, languages during any given Mass, families, and so forth. I feel so lucky to be here, especially as reality is certainly matching (and exceeding) any expectations I may have had. Of the things we talked about, two things seemed to surprise them most: the number of guys in this particular group and the fact that I’m Catholic. As Shane had mentioned earlier in the week, guys are always in the minority, with two or three guys in the group; this time around, we have five. I also feel confident in saying that the five of us have bonded quite well in the past week, and I certainly hope we continue to do so. Moreover (and especially good news), of the 15 or more students Mama and her family have hosted, none of them have been Catholic. Apparently, then, I’m the first one, and I’m so excited to go to Mass tomorrow. It’s about midnight as I write this, and will have to end shortly. Mass is at 9:30am, and goes on for about two to two-and-a-half hours. It’s said in multiple languages (including Xhosa and English), and there’s to be a lot of singing. Afterwards, Siya and I are supposed to walk around Langa.
I then presented my gifts for the family. Alongside the book of Michigan that I got for them, I shared some dark chocolate with Mama and the family, and they quite enjoyed it. Moreover, they seemed to be impressed with the Target zip-up red pocket bags I got and gave each of them (Mama, Sasa and Vuvu) their own bag. I then showed them pictures from my surprise birthday party. (They said I look like my mom and my sister looks like my dad.)
After eating dinner (pasta with a homemade sauce that was of Sasa’s creation), Siya, Bayanda and I watched a movie before heading off to bed. I then commenced writing to catch all of you up with what’s been going on here in South Africa. I think I shall read a bit from my Izibhalo Ezingcwele and practice some new Xhosa phrases before I sleep.
Until next time, sala kahle!
M.A.
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