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
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