You cut me open…

We watched the movie Sometime in April in class on Friday night. We've moved on from the DR Congo to Rwanda in our tour of African heartbreak funded by the West. And in this case, more of just the West standing by and doing nothing. Good movie.

The next morning I got up and went on a Girls Weekend road trip to Cederberg. Which was beautiful. And amazing.

 

 

 

But.

 

 

 

 

…yeah

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think the hardest part of South Africa isn't learning about the hard stuff, or crying your eyes out, or hearing the stories about people you know. It's the going back, it's the trying to pretend that everything is normal and carefree. I guess you could say that vacationing is the hardest part for me. It's the not having people to talk my thoughts out to. 800,000 people died in 100 days in 1994. And those killers? Most of them ran away to Congo to avoid charges, where they're still raping and murdering today. Thrilling news.

And no, I haven't had a boyfriend in a year, and yes, its been over a year and a half since my only really serious boyfriend and I broke up. No, I don't really care about all your relationships. Yes, I am horrible at these games. (yes I am self-conscious about a lot of these things) Yes, I do love late night gossip sessions. I do love giggling and being silly. Yes I love chocolate and red wine and bread and pasta. Yes I love getting to know people better. Yes I did have a really good time this weekend. No, I don't feel like myself right now.

My only problem is

… I keep keep bleeding/breathing (depending on which version you choose. :p)

 

Usually being around Beauty and being in vast unexplored open spaces heals my soul. Usually I don't feel down and out of it the day after I get back.

South African Politics, on a microlevel

We found out on Tuesday that we should probably cancel the afterschool program for Thursday because there was going to be a big ceremony at the school. The principal faxed Mike (sort of boss) an invitation. Apparently there had been a competition for the best poster design for Fire and Flood Safety. Out of 600 submissions, the first and second prize had gone to students at Ikaya Primary School. Although I needed to be working on a paper (that I still haven't finished), I decided to go. It ended up just being me and Mike, because Andy and Bibi had class. First we waited for like ten or fifteen minutes for Andy to come, but he didn't. When we got to Kayamandi, the thing had actually already started, which was bizarre, because things never start on time. Apparently though, when local government is putting on an event, things happen.

There was a huge tent/canopy thing that everyone could sit under. It was like a khaki colored circus tent, at least 15 ft (5 m) tall, I wish I could have remembered my camera. There was a mini stage, with wireless mikes for the performers, and a decent speaker system. The kids were all seated on the ground, but it was only a few grades. Definitely grades 7 and 6, but possibly 5 too. The front row kids looked really small, but I used to say that about the seventh graders. Numbers-wise, I think there were over 300, which would mean just two grades (4 classrooms of forty learners for each grade. Big smile.).

When we walked up to the tent, there was a performance in progress of the Safety Brigade, or something like that. There were four young people of varying ages (and skin color) in brightly colored shirts excitedly talking about the Emergency phone number, staying calm, and getting help. They also gave out prizes for the kids that answered their questions correctly. The local government officials didn't know what to do with us until another woman came over and told them that we were supposed to sit in the chairs, just like all the other visiting guests. What do you know?

We were seated in time to watch the grade 6 singers/dancers, and then for the two speeches. Then came the announcements. It was two boys from grade 6, classroom C. We got to see the posters that they drew, and they received a drawing kit, a trophy, a certificate, and a cash prize (the MC said the last part very quietly each time). Each boy had his picture taken with all the powerful dignitaries present. Everyone was happy and proud. Then the children were dismissed to go eat the lunch that local government bought for them (chips, pie [think Hot Pocket], candy bar, soda?). The teachers and guests got to go inside the teachers' lounge.

We had prawns, calamari, mini-ribs, chicken, sausages, veggies, fruits, crackers, cheese, sparkling juice, and more. It was super fancy. I didn't know anyone other than Mike, and he didn't really introduce me to anyone, so that was kinda awkward. I did get to meet a youngish woman who works for the Emergency Safety department or something, so I chatted to her a while about prawns. As we were saying goodbye, I met a few of the teachers of our kids. I met the principal too.

We got in the car, drive maybe 50 meters, and Mike says, "that thing cost no less than 50,000 rand ($5,000). With that money, they could have hired another teacher for a semester, or even a whole year if we think about what the teachers really get paid not should get paid. But no, the kids did an assignment in class, for class, won a prize, so the local government puts down the big bucks to celebrate"

Which raises some really interesting questions.

A big theme at FIRM and in community development theory is that you celebrate your accomplishments. Any time anything exciting happened at FIRM, we would have a potluck. If it was really big? A full scale community meal. Celebrating is really important. And those kids at Ikaya should be proud of the distinction. The posters were drawn really well. They were really good, and I think definitely deserved a prize.

They also deserve a decent education. They also deserve a government that acts on their behalf.

So whats the balance? A less nice tent? Crappy speakers that don't project the sound so everyone can hear clearly? A certificate delivered in a classroom? No unnecessary poster competitions in the first place? No free meal? Less fancy food for the teachers? (don't forget teachers have votes and a really influential local ANC party woman is also a teacher at the school) how else will we know that the government is good if they don't give out nice free stuff to the people?

The kids don't deserve a crappy ceremony just because the rest of the school/government services are crappy in some degree or another.

Dunno. Interesting stuff here though.

Two Birds with One Stone

I have just figured out how to type a blog in Microsoft word, and have it be automatically published. This means that you all will now be reading my weekly reflections for my Service-Learning and Community Development class. Sorry if there's specific vocabulary, but I don't think there should be. I could also go back and post some other reflections… hm. Endless possibilities here. Anyways, I have to write my journals in Microsoft Word so that there aren't stupid grammar or spelling mistakes, but then copy paste them into Blackboard, so I might as well let you read them too. Here goes….

"This week is the start of your proposed activity and in some cases a continuance of the activity. Your reflection should cover the start of your activity and how it went. You could also reflect on a one-one relationship that influences the CD process you participate in. In question 2, relate your incident to planning and implementation or the helping relationship. When choosing the latter, you may also relate to communication."

Carefully read the instructions about the theme for this week's journal, before attempting this question. (these instructions are available on the journal webpage and above. Question 1: Using the DEAL model of reflection and the critical incident approach, describe the most important activities and interactions (incidents) during your service at your site of placement today (this week), as it relates to the theme of this particular journal. Why was it important? How did you feel during and after the incident(s) and why did you feel that way? (See identifiable feelings tabled below). Also describe any other feelings or reactions you experienced at your placement site today (this week).

The past week or so, I have been getting frustrated with our volunteers. I feel like they participate and engage when its homework time or planned activity time, but anytime there aren't clear specific instructions, they disengage. This means that they tend to spend the 5-15 minutes before we start just staring into space while the kids at their table chat around them. This also happens at snack time and when the kids finish their activities. It's most frustrating though, during the physical activity time. We (Mike, Andy, Bibi, Me) have kept trying to stress the importance of interacting, and getting excited about the games. There are always people sitting out though. Any time I go talk to them, the group of kids who've finally been corralled (by me and 1-2 other volunteers) to all be in the same place immediately start to scatter. So my decision so far has just been to focus on the kids and play the games with the few volunteers who do participate. It doesn't set a good example, and then the grade 8 volunteers sit out, and then the grade 7 learners sit out. I can talk the grade 8s and 7s back into the games a lot quicker than the volunteers, but I'm getting tired of always having to do the same thing.

I was lamenting this to a Dutch friend who isn't in Kayamandi Project, and then I realized, he's never been to summer camp. I asked him if there were ever any opportunities for Dutch students (expanding to Europeans as a whole) to reach out to younger kids in a leadership type role. He said "no, why would we?". He hasn't heard of or experienced day camps, community service, mentoring, tutoring, or any other similar activity. I was immersed in these activities since I was 8 or 9, so its second nature to me to have a friend/leader role with kids who are younger than me. I hadn't thought about the cultural differences between me as an American and the European volunteers. I then thought about all the volunteers. Some of them are really good, but they're mostly American (with a few amazing Europeans). I then realized how American my paradigm of what makes a good volunteer is. I don't really have any alternatives at the moment, but that realization has helped me be a little more patient this week. I also will keep this in mind as I make my material for the prototype-training in a few weeks. I will also try to be on the lookout for different non-American ways to have positive interactions with the kids. Some volunteers may just be better at interacting with kids than others.

When the grade 8s and I made the contract, it was mostly 2 of the girls contributing, They were all sitting, listening, and agreeing with each other (which is victory in itself after an afternoon working with the grade 7s), but not really contributing. We came up with a well-rounded contract, so that was fine with me at the time. I told them to talk about it with each other after the program on Thursday. This week, one girl reported back and said that the other three weren't participating when as a group they were discussing it. I'm not sure what to do about it. Its hard to get quality time with the grade 8s (especially the three in Bibi's classroom), because if I step out of the physical activity time, the volunteers need to run at least one courts' physical activities. It would be good for them to do that more, as long as it actually happens. I guess if I gave a bit of a warning, and equipped them with the rules of the game, maybe practiced explaining it with them, and otherwise empowered them, it would work better. Its definitely a little more awkward doing that with my peers than if I was doing it with the grade 8 volunteers, or seventh graders. I think if I spent more time (maybe 1 afternoon a week) with the grade 8 helpers, we would have better communication and buy in. This isn't really about the contract, its more about what the contract experience showed.

My most influential one-to-one relationship is with Nomandla (not her real name), one of the grade 8 helpers. She communicates most freely with me, and is really good at critically analyzing situations. She also explains things to me about the schools and our students. She's so helpful. Yesterday she told me that her mom got married last weekend, and that her dad had only died last year, but her mom was secretly 2 months pregnant. So mom's moving to the town of the husband, and Nomandla is moving in with her older sister. She talked about being scared about her stepfather abusing or raping her, not because of anything about him, but because it's so statistically likely. She also talked about not liking the fact that her mom was keeping secrets from her, or that she was moving on so quickly. I didn't know what to say. It was a lot of information all at once, but more than that, I didn't know what advice to give her. If someone in America told me this, I would tell them that their stepdad probably wasn't so bad, and that they should give it some time to get to know each other. I didn't say that here. The statistics are just so high. I think her mom knows it too, which is why Nomandla is moving in with her sister. I feel sorry for her, and I feel bad, but I mostly feel useless. I did feel happy that she confided in me, though. Sometimes I wonder how much of this is about keeping kids safe for just a few more hours every day.

 

Question 2: This question relates back to your knowledge base (prior knowledge and experience, course readings and current research you undertake) and how this helps to inform you to understand your answer in the previous question. The instruction for this question is therefore to 'step back' from your experience and analyze as objective as possible the reasons for your feelings during the experience at the site. Relate experiences and observations to specific concepts and theories you learned in class or in classes prior to coming to South Africa. (Use the theme and specific readings referred to in the description of this journal on the journal web page as guideline.

In question 2, relate your incident to planning and implementation or the helping relationship. When choosing the latter, you may also relate to communication."

When the grade 8 girls and I were writing their contract, we also talked about Kayamandi Project as a whole, and the entire spectrum of volunteers. It was a really good starting place for my planned activity, but I still hadn't figured out how to involve them in the entire process of training. I want to do that now, but am wondering how badly the international student volunteers will take it. I'm also wondering if there's enough time. In regards to the project as a whole, a really important concept is that planning and implementation are mutually dependant activities that are continually happening. Even as I think about this one event, a mid-year review with additional training, its important to remember that all the participants are constantly learning new ways of interacting and communicating. Although there is a perceived need for more training, experience has been training everyone all along. I can also guide the process in the meantime. In regards to the training event, it will be a space for everyone to contribute and plan for next semester's group. I also want to provide special space for the grade 8 volunteers in the pre-event planning process and in the event itself.

In regards to the frustration with disengaging volunteers, I think we need better communication between everyone. Although I do try to check in with as many volunteers as possible throughout the day, the conversations don't go deep, and there's not really the space to sit down and talk about participating in the less structured time. There can be at my event, but I think it should be more integrated. I think it's a symptom of a larger confusion or unfamiliarity or something. I'm not quite sure, though. With better communication, we could at least figure out why it was happening, even without a definite solution.

A lot has happened since I last wrote, and at the same time, not very much at all. Hows that for a vague opening line.
Life in Stellenbosch is really good.
My Negotiating Transitions class continues to be amazing. We've shifted our case study from South Africa to Democratic Republic of Congo. Its a little less personal, because we aren't individually experiencing the aftermath, but still powerful. A few weekends ago, Katie Petitt, Sam and I went to a documentary in Cape Town about rape in the Congo, as an instrument of war. It was really hard to watch. Our Negotiating Transition prof spoke afterwards because he is Congolese and a human rights lawyer as well. He's a really impressive person in general, full of profound thoughts and questions. I keep meaning to transcribe the notes from my class, maybe I will soon.
Other classes are mediocre to decent.
Kayamandi Project, however, has captured me. And thus that's where my stories will come from today.

I work with 75-80 grade 7 learners, 5 grade 8 helpers, 20 international student volunteers, and three other class coordinators every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.
I've been writing lesson plans, doing attendance, and planning activities outside of classtime where I help tutor and teach.(this is my service-learning placement)

A week and a half ago we went to Cape Town to visit the District 6 Museum and the Slave Lodge. For some of them, it was their first time to Cape Town. (Its like a bit over an hour of a bus ride, and about as long on the train). It was all of their first times in a museum.
The girls had all bought new clothes for the trip. They looked so adorable and beautiful (and Oh, did they know it!). It was exciting for everyone because they didn't have to wear their uniforms. We also brought our own lunches for a picnic in Company Gardens. I had brought a humble lunch of peanut butter sandwiches (i've learned since coming here of how unnecessary jelly really is) and water. My girls? They brought ham and cheese and tomato and lettuce sandwiches. And a liter or two of juice. And cookies. And a chocolate bar. And chips. And fruit. And then another little snack or two. It was a GOURMET buffet going on, let me tell you.
After we ate we wandered the gardens and had our own little photoshoot. Those girls may be just 12 or 13, but they've definitely picked up a few societal cues about what 'sexy' is. It was a little disturbing. Like, really. I always think of middle schoolers as being awkward and out of it and too worried about little things. I haven't spent much time with US middle schoolers, so I can't really compare. I tried to get more group shots and smiling faces than beckoning stares/poses...
We had a lot of fun and giggled a lot. We also had a pretty good time at the museums, although it was a little frustrating at the District 6 Museum, because the guide used too advanced vocabulary, and didn't speak loud enough. The kids didn't get much out of it. I think maybe our two most proficient students actually understood what was going on (out of like 35 present). I also had never analyzed vocabulary at a museum before. When we were walking around afterwards, reading sentences off the walls, almost every single word was unrecognizable to the boys I was with. We would talk through the sentences and then explain again what the museum was about.
In their defense though, the forced removal of coloreds from a nicer house to a crappier house... its not exactly relevant when you live in a shack. still. fifteen years after apartheid ended. (government promised a house for all. theres a severe housing shortage here)
The entire bus ride home was filled with singing kids. It was amazing and crazy. I posted some videos of them on my picasa. As well as some highlights from the rest of the trip.
much love.
i'll write more soon.

In celebration of the fact that it is Friday night and I don't feel horrible about the state of the world, I'm writing on my blog instead of going out. This may sound contradictory and somewhat odd, but I have a very heavy class on Fridays from 4:30-7:30, so it usually takes me a day or two to fully process.
Tonight though, Nora just told me she was glad I was in the class because I think about things completely and totally different than she does. And then that made me feel like I was crazy and am going to end up like my Papa Ed or something. Nothing against Papa Ed, but I dunno... or Aunt Lucille. All this crazy hippie blood in me or something. I can't seem to help it that I'm so structural and so anti-Western, anti-neo-liberalism anti-white-privilege. I just don't know what I'm for I guess.
In talking to my dad a few nights ago, I said that this class makes me feel more distanced from everyone else. It makes me think, it makes me process, and critically analyze the world. Heidi calls it "giving things space" and "Living in the contradictions". I feel like it is a process of humanizing. My dad reminded me that that's why I came... to grow as a human. even if it does distance me more from other people who aren't quite as haunted as I seem to be by the bigger questions of the world. And even having the leisure to contemplate Questions that aren't directly related to food, shelter, safety comes from having a place of privilege in society.
Everything about the world that I occupy is almost entirely dictated by Western thought, Western tradition, Western history, colonialism, capitalism, white-over-color ascendency (yay CRT). There is so much more in the world. But if I am the champion of the Other, that is a product of Western thinking as well. I cannot be another white savior. But how do I exist as who I was born as in the context of the questions...
The kids in my class in Kayamandi. They know the following three things about apartheid which ended just before they were born. 1. They weren't allowed to live with their fathers. Families had to live in Eastern Cape. 2. They weren't allowed to go placed without a pass. They couldn't go into King Pie in town to buy fast food. 3. White police shot black people. (and after apartheid)In 1994 we could vote and Nelson Mandela was our president.
There is such a rich history of protest. The ANC despite its corruption and governmental failings has sUUUch a rich history beginning in 1914, I think. What do the kids know about ANC? they know who is for them. They know whether or not their families support them. Maybe I'm romanticizing a brutal history that should not be even partially redeemed. But shouldn't lessons be learned? shouldn't the people of this country be proud of ridding themselves of apartheid? in class today we talked about how TRC basically established that apartheid was wrong, violence was wrong, and that public confessions were cheaper than trials. It did not really address the premise of apartheid. It didn't really ever say, racism is wrong. And structurally in South Africa, not much has changed. There's not space for relationship between races because townships are still townships. The roads still say "NY ###" which stands for Native Yard.
Even in the rememberences of people who died in the struggle, the white martyrs have names, the black ones have locations and numbers. The Gugulethu 7. The Cradock 4.
Amy Biehl an American Fulbright Scholar, who dove, swam, did gymnastics and went to Stanford, was murdered by a mob when she was somewhere she probably shouldn't have been. She was in Gugulethu. She stood for all the right things, but theres a white arrogance in thinking that will save you. Under apartheid, there was no discriminating between a good black person and a bad black person. Both could get shot just as easily for just as irrelevant reasons.
And now history just isn't taught? The schools don't want another angry generation? I don't know.
Yes this has implications for me. and for Fresno. and for the States. I'm not done thinking them through yet though.

After a disappointingly uneventful weekend (that was also very peaceful and relaxing), I actually did something today!
I called the man Songo that I had been meaning to call all weekend. My supervisor at ISOS-Kayamandi Project strongly recommended that my partner Adam and I take a walking tour of Kayamandi with a man who knew more than anyone else alive about the township.
He gave us Songo's number. Adam didn't really follow up on it, even though he was supposed to, so that he would get the better price. (I don't think I've mentioned on this blog how frustrating it is to be female sometimes). The entire dramatic narrative of how the tour was finally arranged is probably unnecessary, so I'll skip to the part where we arrived at the tourist center of Kayamandi.
Songo wasn't there. Songo didn't answer his cell, and hadn't replied to my earlier text. So we wandered outside the building, hoping to flag down our driver on his way back to Stellenbosch. A man on a bike passed us and said "christina?"
and i said "yes, songo?"
adam under his breath muttered with a smile that it was a good thing we were the only two confused-looking white people in the entire area...
Songo locked his bike inside the building and we started walking.
Kayamandi has about 33,000 residents, with an unemployment rate of over 50%. It was originally established in the 1940s when The Group Areas Act was passed. People from Stellenbosch, Cloetesville, Idas Valley and other smaller towns in regions were kicked out of their houses and forcibly removed to their respective areas (black or colored). The black area was Kayamandi. There are some families in Kayamandi who have been here since the 40s. As time went on, migrant men were allowed to come to find work. They stayed in hostels. After the pass laws (which dictated movement, if you were allowed to leave the "homelands" or come into a white area or do anything of your own accord, basically) were repealed in 1990, families were allowed to come join the men. There is no work or development in the "homelands" (now Eastern Cape), so its the choice between rural poverty and urban poverty.
We visited 2 hostels. People still live in them. Each room was around 8 x 10 ft. (2.5x3m for sander and stefen). There would be two bunk beds in each room. After the pass laws were repealed, there would be 2-4 families in each rooom. one for each twin-sized bed. In the first hostel that we went to, there were men constructing plywood walls (3/4 inch), and painting them blue. Apparently an American had gone home and raised money so that the curtains dividing each room could be replaced with wood. There are just two beds in each room now, I don't know where the bunks went.
In the other hostel, owned by a winery, was built well, and each of the rooms had doors. There still were two families living on two beds in each room. Thats ten families living in a building smaller than my house at home. The families share toilets, a kitchen, and a living room.
...
I also got to see some of my girls as they were getting out of school, which was exciting. On our way back down the hill, I asked Songo what the biggest problems were for Kayamandi. He said housing, unemployment, and maybe AIDS. (>1 in 4 pregnant mothers are infected). Most people live in shacks (informal settlements) but there are houses too. The government has slowly been building the housing that it promised. They have build 600 homes since the end of apartheid. Its been 15 years. There are 33,000 people. Average monthly income in Kayamandi is R1500 ($150). To qualify for gov't housing, you need to earn less that R3500. So basically everyone qualifies. There are also a lot of fires amongst the shacks and you have to walk to common toilets and to get water. Its only like 500m (~500 yards) though, and the kids at the afterschool program talk about how much easier life is here than in Eastern Cape. In Eastern Cape, you would need to walk 5-6 km (a few miles) to get water from the river, which isn't a clean source. They much prefer life in Kayamandi.