I think I understand a little bit why Jesus spoke in parables. There are no ways to explain some things.
When people want to hear about my trip to South Africa, I don't know where to start.
I can tell vignettes, or cute stories of kids. i can rant about the frustrations of various aspects of living abroad. I can list all the places I went. I can even say a few things that I learned.
But when they ask "how was South Africa?" it is too big a concepts for words. for description.
it was good. it was bad. it was life. you know? (but of course, they don't)
because I have come from a new place, I can't really describe it except for random times when I say "in south africa, we did this one thing", and those only really make sense in the context of conversations about specific activities/objects. not about the country as a whole.
I love it there. And its a beautiful paradise.
and you haven't been there. probably.
but South Africa is frustrating and difficult and depressing and stressful.
but I had a really good time and have so many new friends that I bonded with and whom I really appreciate and love. and you won't ever know. its just this unique chance in a life to live life alongside people that you'll never see in the same place at the same time ever again.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I did indeed make in back from Mozambique. It was a beautiful country, with really friendly nice people, and oh so delicious seafood. Also, the people who backpack Mozambique are significantly more mature and have been so many more cool places than the students who populated the many South African backpackers that I stayed in.
I am back in Fresno now, and don't plan on writing anything else on this blog, unless I suddenly find new reflections that need to be written somewhere.
I am back in Fresno now, and don't plan on writing anything else on this blog, unless I suddenly find new reflections that need to be written somewhere.
- South Africa is a frustrating country with a tumultuous history
- Its so beautiful, and full of natural resources, there is a reason that everyone has been continually fighting over it for the past 400 years
- South African activists have a strong tradition of combining theory/academia with ground-level action. If it does not stem from actual human rights work on the ground, it is not considered legitimate research. Not just experiements, or commenting on past happenings, but to be actually developed as a part of activism. That is definitely something to learn from.
- apartheid does not end overnight.
- South Africa is a country where you do not escape your race ever. most of the backpackers I met in Maputo said that SA was the worst that they had ever experienced White-consciousness. You don't ever escape from the guilt of your race, no matter who you are around. (As opposed to remote corners of the South and Southeast Asia, SubSaharan Africa, South and Central America, where the backpackers had spent significant time being the only white face around)
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I love Maputo. and really wish I could speak Portuguese.
and it looks like this will be the first college summer where I actually make a substantial amount of money. and it will be the first time that i don't owe my mother thousands of dollars for tuition. beautiful!
i guess maybe i am growing up?
haha.
no, now i just want to save money for the next little bit of time, so that I can come back here, and go elsewhere. i also want to spend my life wandering. I've met so many backpackers here who have gone to so many different places, and it just gives me so much hope that it really is possible to do all these things that maybe seem dangerous. Also, let us all remember that people are people wherever we go. And when you say bom dia or bom tarde, they tend to smile and be friendly.
there aren't hardly any street people in maputo. no one really begging. many sales people, who play checkers and cards when sales are low.
i'm staying at a really cool backpackers called Fatimas.
I left my digital camera in Stellenbosch on accident, so i bought an old school disposable one, i kinda like it though. :)
out of internet time.
much love!
and it looks like this will be the first college summer where I actually make a substantial amount of money. and it will be the first time that i don't owe my mother thousands of dollars for tuition. beautiful!
i guess maybe i am growing up?
haha.
no, now i just want to save money for the next little bit of time, so that I can come back here, and go elsewhere. i also want to spend my life wandering. I've met so many backpackers here who have gone to so many different places, and it just gives me so much hope that it really is possible to do all these things that maybe seem dangerous. Also, let us all remember that people are people wherever we go. And when you say bom dia or bom tarde, they tend to smile and be friendly.
there aren't hardly any street people in maputo. no one really begging. many sales people, who play checkers and cards when sales are low.
i'm staying at a really cool backpackers called Fatimas.
I left my digital camera in Stellenbosch on accident, so i bought an old school disposable one, i kinda like it though. :)
out of internet time.
much love!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Maputo Nelspruit and Pretoria
In Nelspruit, I left the backpackers and walked alone to the internet cafe, which, because this is South Africa, didn't have internet that day. I walked to Spar, asked directions to another internet cafe, and promptly walked 10 minutes in the wrong direction. I asked a girl on the street where the SuperSpar with the internet cafe was, and she guided me 10 minutes back to where I started. The next day I took a taxi to the Mozambican Embassy where I spent R750 on a visa, which is a lot of money, in retrospect. I just have been so intent on coming to Mozambique. I wanted to see it, I wanted to experience it. And here I am.
We arrived in Maputo around 4:30pm yesterday, which is also about the time secondary school gets out and the sun goes down. There ended up being 6 of us heading to the same place, but we couldn't all fit in the same taxi, so the man said that he would leave us and go get another car. So we waited. and waited. and waited. and then called 45 minutes later, and then the lady from the travel agency next to the bus station called our backpackers, and then the cars finally came. I guess you can tell that we've been in South Africa for a while, because I don't think it really bothered anyone all that much. We just kinda sat on our bags, people watched, read, journeled, flipped through guidebooks, whatever.
My cell doesn't get signal in Maputo, which makes sense I guess, but I was somehow expecting roaming-like charges, still having a signal though... oh well.
plan is to end up in durban by Friday the 30th, no specific plans other than that though.
much love,
christine
We arrived in Maputo around 4:30pm yesterday, which is also about the time secondary school gets out and the sun goes down. There ended up being 6 of us heading to the same place, but we couldn't all fit in the same taxi, so the man said that he would leave us and go get another car. So we waited. and waited. and waited. and then called 45 minutes later, and then the lady from the travel agency next to the bus station called our backpackers, and then the cars finally came. I guess you can tell that we've been in South Africa for a while, because I don't think it really bothered anyone all that much. We just kinda sat on our bags, people watched, read, journeled, flipped through guidebooks, whatever.
My cell doesn't get signal in Maputo, which makes sense I guess, but I was somehow expecting roaming-like charges, still having a signal though... oh well.
plan is to end up in durban by Friday the 30th, no specific plans other than that though.
much love,
christine
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Life without Fear
In South Africa, or at least in Stellenbosch, when you walk down the street people don't meet your eye. When I first got here, I was unnerved by this, but kept trying, our of habit, to smile and meet people's eyes as I passed them. A week or two ago, I realized that I have adapted to this culture without even realizing it. After reading a collection of short stories of women travelling, I was re-energized to make the most of this adventure. I also actually exercised a few days in the same week, which also made my state of mind a little more positive.
I've started looking into the eyes of people again. Or at least trying. They hardly ever look up, and when they do they look through you to find someone else. About 1 in 20 people actually meet my eyes and offer some sort of acknowledgement.
But its okay, because it feels so much better to walk with your head held high than bowed, eyes to the ground ahead of you. Its an unconscious acknowledgment of fear, or a desire to be invisible.
I went for a walk by myself just before dusk. Not very far, just a big loop around the backside of my residential complex. I found a park that I had never seen before. I saw couples walking with their dogs. I saw teenagers trying to get a ball or something out of a tree by throwing more sticks into the tree. I saw a dad walking along the road with two kids. In short, I saw normal people doing normal things.
There's this culture of fear that exists among the white people here. The International Office makes such a big deal out of safety the first week of orientation. Don't ever walk anywhere by yourself, especially at night, especially if you're a girl. If/When someone threatens you with a weapon for your money/cell, don't fight just give it to them. Horror Story after Horror Story. And of course other stories circulate around the international community as well. This one girl heard from her South African friend that her classmate was robbed in the Botanical Garden. Don't ever go there by yourself!
The houses here are ridiculous as well. Tall walls around half of the houses, covered in sharp metal pointy things. Of course the other half of the houses don't really have much of anything for security, just a normal lawn and then a porch and a front door.
The international office also told us to not to ride the train, and if we did, to be sure that we did it in big groups, first class, without being too obviously touristy.
And to only walk on the Green Route at night. not cut through campus, walk all the way around, on a well-lit path, where security guards patrol.
...
and I understand the need to make wise decisions. and I understand that the IO is responsible for us while we are in a foreign country. I just wonder if there was a better way to encourage smart decisions and awareness than outright FearMongering. You know? Kinda like when you're younger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers, or accept candy from strangers, or talk to things bigger than your plate. Once you're older, you learn to discern which strangers are nice, which aren't. You learn that its okay to make small talk in a grocery line, or when someone is asking for directions. You even learn how to be the stranger that approaches someone else when you need help. You don't have to be afraid of people walking down your street. You can say, hi, good afternoon. It doesn't mean that they are going to kidnap you or feed you poisoned candy. You learn how to ascertain what situations are safe, and how to maneuver around situations that are less safe.
Its like that here, or I think it should be. People who are from small towns or safe cities should learn how to be smart and stay safe, but without needing to be worried all the time. At some point in time, we have to realize that people, no matter their socio-economic position or skin color, are indeed still people.
The scariest part of here is how racialized the socio-economic positions are. It makes it so that international students become automatically scared when they see someone darker skinned. Its freaking apartheid perpetuated. There's no room for subtler judgments based on clothing, or time of day, or location, or who the other person is with. There's no room for the Other to be human, doing normal human everyday activities. Everyone who is black or coloured or darker than white, if we can't differentiate between the apartheid-era labels that are still in use today. We don't go to the grocery store when the Other is shopping. Its just too crowded and dirty, and i hate it when people stare at me. We don't sit by the other on the train. We make sure to find other stellenbosch students, or tourists, or well-dressed people to sit next to, so that we can be sure not to have contact with the Other.
Its hard too, because I realize that having an American accent makes me a target. I feel like whiteness makes me a target. The clothes that I wear, the jacket that I bought ridiculously cheap when a department store was closing down. But just because I feel like a target doesn't mean that anyone is hunting. The majority of people here, just as anywhere else, aren't bad people, don't steal things from random strangers walking down the street.
I don't walk around with a lot of money. I have the cheapest cell phone I could buy, and I still don't walk around at night, except when I'm coming back from the library on my bike. And I'm not denying that crime does happen. Theft does happen. I just wonder how much other Good stuff I missed out on, how many people I didn't meet, because I was walking with my head bowed, or staying inside my fortress of a dorm.
(The other part of it, is that of the strangers I have met, I haven't met any that didn't turn out to be really nice people. Not everyone is my new best friend, but when I'm friendly and outgoing, the people I meet are so so friendly and conversational. no matter their skin color. no matter their class. no matter what their jobs are, or where I meet them)
So for these last few weeks, I'm trying really hard to live without those fears. Because I rode third-class to Cape Town by myself this weekend. And you know who I met? A master's student from Zimbabwe who is studying math. A freaking Math major with a British accent. Really nice guy. black. around 23. let's be realistic here people. We're on the African continent. We came to have new experiences and meet new people. We didn't come to hang out and party with other Europeans and Americans. International Office, there's gotta be another way. Its somehow gotta be okay for races to mix. You've gotta get past 1994 eventually. There've gotta be everyday normal ways for international students to experience everyday normal people in a non-structured, non-savior, non-touring-through-township sorts of ways.
I've started looking into the eyes of people again. Or at least trying. They hardly ever look up, and when they do they look through you to find someone else. About 1 in 20 people actually meet my eyes and offer some sort of acknowledgement.
But its okay, because it feels so much better to walk with your head held high than bowed, eyes to the ground ahead of you. Its an unconscious acknowledgment of fear, or a desire to be invisible.
I went for a walk by myself just before dusk. Not very far, just a big loop around the backside of my residential complex. I found a park that I had never seen before. I saw couples walking with their dogs. I saw teenagers trying to get a ball or something out of a tree by throwing more sticks into the tree. I saw a dad walking along the road with two kids. In short, I saw normal people doing normal things.
There's this culture of fear that exists among the white people here. The International Office makes such a big deal out of safety the first week of orientation. Don't ever walk anywhere by yourself, especially at night, especially if you're a girl. If/When someone threatens you with a weapon for your money/cell, don't fight just give it to them. Horror Story after Horror Story. And of course other stories circulate around the international community as well. This one girl heard from her South African friend that her classmate was robbed in the Botanical Garden. Don't ever go there by yourself!
The houses here are ridiculous as well. Tall walls around half of the houses, covered in sharp metal pointy things. Of course the other half of the houses don't really have much of anything for security, just a normal lawn and then a porch and a front door.
The international office also told us to not to ride the train, and if we did, to be sure that we did it in big groups, first class, without being too obviously touristy.
And to only walk on the Green Route at night. not cut through campus, walk all the way around, on a well-lit path, where security guards patrol.
...
and I understand the need to make wise decisions. and I understand that the IO is responsible for us while we are in a foreign country. I just wonder if there was a better way to encourage smart decisions and awareness than outright FearMongering. You know? Kinda like when you're younger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers, or accept candy from strangers, or talk to things bigger than your plate. Once you're older, you learn to discern which strangers are nice, which aren't. You learn that its okay to make small talk in a grocery line, or when someone is asking for directions. You even learn how to be the stranger that approaches someone else when you need help. You don't have to be afraid of people walking down your street. You can say, hi, good afternoon. It doesn't mean that they are going to kidnap you or feed you poisoned candy. You learn how to ascertain what situations are safe, and how to maneuver around situations that are less safe.
Its like that here, or I think it should be. People who are from small towns or safe cities should learn how to be smart and stay safe, but without needing to be worried all the time. At some point in time, we have to realize that people, no matter their socio-economic position or skin color, are indeed still people.
The scariest part of here is how racialized the socio-economic positions are. It makes it so that international students become automatically scared when they see someone darker skinned. Its freaking apartheid perpetuated. There's no room for subtler judgments based on clothing, or time of day, or location, or who the other person is with. There's no room for the Other to be human, doing normal human everyday activities. Everyone who is black or coloured or darker than white, if we can't differentiate between the apartheid-era labels that are still in use today. We don't go to the grocery store when the Other is shopping. Its just too crowded and dirty, and i hate it when people stare at me. We don't sit by the other on the train. We make sure to find other stellenbosch students, or tourists, or well-dressed people to sit next to, so that we can be sure not to have contact with the Other.
Its hard too, because I realize that having an American accent makes me a target. I feel like whiteness makes me a target. The clothes that I wear, the jacket that I bought ridiculously cheap when a department store was closing down. But just because I feel like a target doesn't mean that anyone is hunting. The majority of people here, just as anywhere else, aren't bad people, don't steal things from random strangers walking down the street.
I don't walk around with a lot of money. I have the cheapest cell phone I could buy, and I still don't walk around at night, except when I'm coming back from the library on my bike. And I'm not denying that crime does happen. Theft does happen. I just wonder how much other Good stuff I missed out on, how many people I didn't meet, because I was walking with my head bowed, or staying inside my fortress of a dorm.
(The other part of it, is that of the strangers I have met, I haven't met any that didn't turn out to be really nice people. Not everyone is my new best friend, but when I'm friendly and outgoing, the people I meet are so so friendly and conversational. no matter their skin color. no matter their class. no matter what their jobs are, or where I meet them)
So for these last few weeks, I'm trying really hard to live without those fears. Because I rode third-class to Cape Town by myself this weekend. And you know who I met? A master's student from Zimbabwe who is studying math. A freaking Math major with a British accent. Really nice guy. black. around 23. let's be realistic here people. We're on the African continent. We came to have new experiences and meet new people. We didn't come to hang out and party with other Europeans and Americans. International Office, there's gotta be another way. Its somehow gotta be okay for races to mix. You've gotta get past 1994 eventually. There've gotta be everyday normal ways for international students to experience everyday normal people in a non-structured, non-savior, non-touring-through-township sorts of ways.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Lessons for Grade 7s
Lesson 0: We will respect one another.
Lesson 1: We do not hit each other to express our feelings. It is never okay to hit someone.
Lesson 2: We do not talk when the teacher is talking
Lesson 3: We ask before we borrow someone's rubber (eraser)
Lesson 4: We do not use other peoples money. We do not gamble during afterschool program
Lesson 5: We are at After School Program for two reasons: to have fun and to be safe. We do not ruin other people's fun. We do not hurt other people or ruin their safe place.
Lesson 6: We use other people's real names. It is not okay to say "the fat one" "the black one" "the dark one" "the skinny one". We all have names. I am Christine. You are Olwethu. You are Kwanele. You will not insult other people by calling them elephants, ugly, skinny, fat, in English or in Xhosa. You will use their real name.
We just got to Lesson 6 today. Lesson 1 has been a recurring theme. Two more sessions and then I'm gonna go back to my world, as the boy in the very front of this picture very pointedly told me today.
Lesson 1: We do not hit each other to express our feelings. It is never okay to hit someone.
Lesson 2: We do not talk when the teacher is talking
Lesson 3: We ask before we borrow someone's rubber (eraser)
Lesson 4: We do not use other peoples money. We do not gamble during afterschool program
Lesson 5: We are at After School Program for two reasons: to have fun and to be safe. We do not ruin other people's fun. We do not hurt other people or ruin their safe place.
Lesson 6: We use other people's real names. It is not okay to say "the fat one" "the black one" "the dark one" "the skinny one". We all have names. I am Christine. You are Olwethu. You are Kwanele. You will not insult other people by calling them elephants, ugly, skinny, fat, in English or in Xhosa. You will use their real name.
We just got to Lesson 6 today. Lesson 1 has been a recurring theme. Two more sessions and then I'm gonna go back to my world, as the boy in the very front of this picture very pointedly told me today.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Dear South Africa,
I want you to take responsibility for your poverty. I want to hold you responsible for your incomprehensible levels of rape, HIV, and abuse. I am disenchanted and angry. I'm mad that you have so much money, that your tourist attractions are so well kept, that you are so beautiful, and yet you move so slowly to make change for the least of your citizens. I'm mad that your politicians are just as corrupt as those in the united states. I'm mad that for all your idealism in your revolution, for all your promises of a new dispensation, your leaders are human after all. I'm frustrated that your citizens remind me of the people on the north side of town, your churches remind me of New Harvest.
Dear America,
how can you expect the rest of the world to develop when your Native people live on destitute reservations or promote the poverty of others through casinos? That's an unfair generalization, but its an important point to make. The situation of white/black/hispanic/asian in America is a whole nother ball game than that of black/white in South Africa. Dear America, please look at how divided your society is, and work for equality and an end to poverty inside your borders. Dear America, please look at your trade policies and how you regulate the human rights ethics of your corporations. Dear America, please control the CIA and Homeland Security. Please be more humane. Dear America, please give California more money for education and water for farmers, you get so much of our taxes. we're the seventh biggest economy of the world, and yet we have so many hungry families right now. Dear American churches, love your neighbors, love one another, remember the poverty of your cities as you pray for the poverty across the world. Ministering to people across the world is just as hard and frustrating as the little rude buggers who you don't want your kids to be friends with.
Dear South Africa,
I love you. You're beautiful and full of hope. You have so many smiling children and shacks that have starred in many idealistic YouTube fundraising efforts and many church recruitment videos. I could fit here. I could serve here. I could give more and more of my time. I could develop curriculum and support an afterschool program. I do have something to offer here. I do have skills, love, and prayers. I've wanted to come here for so long, and here I am South Africa. here I am. I love it here. I just have the same depressed moments, the same money stresses, and the same inability to keep my normal life on schedule. It makes me want to go home and start over again. I'm sure I'll miss you so much when I'm home again, but I think I'm being called home now.
Dear America,
I can't believe I love you enough to call you home.
Dear California,
I do believe I love you enough to call you my state.
Dear Fresno,
I love you always and forever. I miss you and I'll see you soon. Keep trying to get better! I'll be home to support your economy soon! no chains, just family businesses like Bertos and Paradise Cafe.
Dear America,
how can you expect the rest of the world to develop when your Native people live on destitute reservations or promote the poverty of others through casinos? That's an unfair generalization, but its an important point to make. The situation of white/black/hispanic/asian in America is a whole nother ball game than that of black/white in South Africa. Dear America, please look at how divided your society is, and work for equality and an end to poverty inside your borders. Dear America, please look at your trade policies and how you regulate the human rights ethics of your corporations. Dear America, please control the CIA and Homeland Security. Please be more humane. Dear America, please give California more money for education and water for farmers, you get so much of our taxes. we're the seventh biggest economy of the world, and yet we have so many hungry families right now. Dear American churches, love your neighbors, love one another, remember the poverty of your cities as you pray for the poverty across the world. Ministering to people across the world is just as hard and frustrating as the little rude buggers who you don't want your kids to be friends with.
Dear South Africa,
I love you. You're beautiful and full of hope. You have so many smiling children and shacks that have starred in many idealistic YouTube fundraising efforts and many church recruitment videos. I could fit here. I could serve here. I could give more and more of my time. I could develop curriculum and support an afterschool program. I do have something to offer here. I do have skills, love, and prayers. I've wanted to come here for so long, and here I am South Africa. here I am. I love it here. I just have the same depressed moments, the same money stresses, and the same inability to keep my normal life on schedule. It makes me want to go home and start over again. I'm sure I'll miss you so much when I'm home again, but I think I'm being called home now.
Dear America,
I can't believe I love you enough to call you home.
Dear California,
I do believe I love you enough to call you my state.
Dear Fresno,
I love you always and forever. I miss you and I'll see you soon. Keep trying to get better! I'll be home to support your economy soon! no chains, just family businesses like Bertos and Paradise Cafe.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Another one of those reflections for class
You should now have a fair indication of where your activity process is going. You are preparing to conclude and end your process. Reflect on the implications: What impact did this experience have on you, on the community and on the organization. In the second question reflect on how you used the theory on PAR and evaluation to analyse the outcomes of the planned activities.
This experience did impact me greatly. I don't feel like a new person. I feel like I've seen the problems at home magnified. I feel like the same problems affect poor people all over the world. I feel like the poverty here is the same as the poverty in my hometown. It makes me want to go home to the poor communities where I already know the culture. It makes me want to go into the Hmong and Cambodian communities at home, and work with people there. South Africa is not my country. South Africa is big and unfamiliar even after 3 or 4 months. My county at home has 17% unemployment rates right now. We still have the highest concentrated poverty in the country. The farms are in draught. I need to go home. They need good community development there. As a Fresnan, as a Californian, I have more of a place there.
This experience affected the community of Kayamandi/Ikaya Primary School is small but significant ways. I was present for a lot of students. I heard a lot of students' stories. I came, and I saw. I experienced. I think that that is more important to me, but it does make a small impact on these students as well. I think that the afterschool program does make a tangible difference in their lives, because they get focused attention, and they get to be special. The grade 8 helpers remember their fun times in the program like it was yesterday. They miss last year's volunteers and talk about them all the time. I think our grade 7 students will feel the same about us, when we are gone.
My contribution to ISOS-Kayamandi is not too significant. It is structured so that all valuable contributions are used. I feel like I influenced the program, but alongside many other people. I think that I learned a lot from ISOS-Kayamandi that I will use in future afterschool or summer programs with kids.
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).
On Monday night, we had our feedback session, which was my mini-project aside from the weekly work with the children in the afterschool program. I am proud of the way that it worked out. I began with a focus session with the grade 8 helpers. Mike had correctly predicted that it would be difficult for the girls to say anything negative about the program structure or the volunteers. I taught them the phrase constructive criticism as part of our exercise, but I'm not sure they understand the 'critical' part of the phrase, even now. I did get a lot of useful advice out of them, eventually. When it was time for the big meeting with all the volunteers, the grade 8s did want to speak in front of everyone. They said all the positive things that we had talked about. They let me say the negative things. They did really good. I think the volunteers were really receptive, too.
The top 5 lessons for the volunteers were:
1. Talk slower, and repeat yourself if we don't understand the first time.
2. Be creative and interesting in the ways that you engage with the learners.
3. Talk to the learners as much as possible, about anything, just talk.
4. We want to be your friends, the learners want to be your friends, try to open up and be our friends.
5. We really appreciate what you do
I am realizing more and more that all of the kids really do crave relationship. As time goes on, and my face is seen consistently every week, they are beginning to open up to me and share their stories. I think that this is the biggest impact that I could ask for in these children's lives. Its also the biggest impact that ISOS could ask for, too. (the girls do swear that their English is infinitely better because of afterschool programme, so that's good affirmation as well). Its really hard though, because every story is a new and unique variation on heartbreak.
I sat in the back of the room with Siphomandla (gift of strength) and another boy as we were writing articles about how they had spent Easter Holiday. The other boy wrote about getting to visit his father in Gugulethu, which doesn't happen very often. He got to ride the train. He got to see his friends in Gugulethu, he got to go to the beach, all sorts of exciting things happen when he gets to see his dad. Siphomandla says something under his breath about his dad that I don't quite catch. I tell him to write it down as a part of his article. He writes "I wish I could go visit my dad. I have never met him since I was 2 months old and my mother left him in Gauteng". Oh, Siphomandla. There were tears in his eyes. And I was powerless to do anything other than affirm how badly that sucks. I felt so powerless, but also privileged to hear a bit of his story. He usually doesn't talk very much.
I think another child in the program is being abused. I don't know what to do about that either. I was talking to Katie, and part of her Prochorus Resource Binder is a sheet of signs to look for. This boy, he has a lot of those signs. He's usually pretty quiet, or at least he doesn't ever speak English very loudly. He can scream Xhosa quite well. Everyone picks on him; I think it is because his immediate response is to punch them. At first, I felt like I was always getting him in trouble, because he was always fighting with other boys. I started to play closer attention, and I realized that the boys would poke or prod or lightly punch him until he punched back. The girls will tease and make fun of him until he responds. It's not okay. I've talked to him a million times about how violence is not okay. I've intervened in specific confrontations, and made the girls apologize for calling him __________(Zulu, Zimbabwean, the super dark-skinned skinny looking tribal man in the magazine). I've made him apologize for hitting. I've separated him from the table he was fighting with. I've even threatened to drop him out of the program. Andy sent him home early on occasion. He hit someone else in the classroom on Tuesday. I took him outside and talked to him a little bit. He didn't really talk. He looked stonily out at the distance, wouldn't look at me. I told him I wasn't going to yell at him, I just wanted to know what was going on. I let him sit for a while, asked a few more questions about what had just happened. He didn't respond. I asked a few questions about his home. I asked if he lived with his mother, he shook his head no. I asked if he lived with his father, he nodded. I asked if he had brothers, he shook his head no. I asked if he had sisters, he put up three fingers. He then starts crying. Not sobbing, but the tears that he's been fighting to hold in, the whole time he's been looking stonily, those tears just come pouring down his face. I ask a few more questions that he doesn't really answer. I let him sit there and finish crying. I ask him if he wants to get a drink of water first, or he wants to just go back in. The only time he says anything is "water". He washes off his face, drinks some water, and then goes back into the classroom. I don't see him punch anyone else the rest of the time we are in the classroom.
As the program comes to an end for this semester, I wish that I could somehow tell the new group of volunteers everything that I have learned about each of the students. I wish that they wouldn't have to waste 2 months of getting comfortable. In Young Life, we have a saying that you have to earn the right to be heard. The new volunteers do need to earn the trust of these kids, because they have so few dependable trustable people in their lives. The students are smart to keep so much hidden. They cannot live any other way. I wish that I had more time with them, even though I am so ready to go home. I don't know how much more I could hear and be powerless to do anything about.
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 the second question reflect on how you used the theory on PAR and evaluation to analyse the outcomes of the planned activities.
I think that I used the theories of PAR pretty well in my group training/feedback session on Monday night. The volunteers and Grade 8 helpers both got to co-create the training material that will be used for next semester's volunteers. The time I spent with the grade 8 girls was especially helpful for me and empowering for them. Because I came up with the idea, it wasn't completely participatory. They did identify the need for volunteer training during an earlier conversation where we discussed their roles in the after school program. I guess that could be problem formulation. The capacity building of the volunteers and grade 8 helpers is important for the program. It does help support the efforts of the afterschool program to further its work in the community. My focus session focused on the need for volunteer training. If I was just working with the small group of concerned grade 8s, I'm not sure that that would be the focus of our community development efforts. I don't think that's what would happen with my Participatory Action Research. I think that I have been good at developing a democratic and trusting relationship with the grade 8 helper girls. I learn a lot from them, and listen to what they have to say. They know this. I think that it was empowering for the girls to hear their opinions shared to a large group of volunteers. It was also empowering for the girls to hear the volunteers share their opinions about the volunteers' own perceptions of the volunteers. I think that the conscientization process was most evident in my work with the girls. I think that they learned about the process as well.
If I was to stay in Kayamandi, and do PAR or other methods of community development, I would want to focus on abuse. I know that Prochorus does some work in this area, and I'm sure other NGOs do too. I would want to use the girls' experiences and see how PAR could help them. I've heard too many stories now.
Election Day in South Africa
They don't stream the votes or do a big thing on SABC like CNN does in the States. Carly was kind enough to drive 3 girls home to Kayamandi after they visited me today (public holiday for voting). It was a crazy party scene in Kayamandi. At least 150 people were lined up to vote outside the Primary School. There were braais (bbqs) on street corners. There were people wearing political party t-shirts everywhere. There were little parties outside of houses, everyone wearing the same t-shirts, with banners in the background. Although ANC is slated to win by a landslide, (with the poor black vote being a huge contributing factor), I saw a fair amount of other parties decently-to-well represented. this was especially interesting because of the poor-black-ANC generalization. Voting is a worth a huge party! its really exciting in a starry eyed political science student sort of way.
I swear every child I talk to has a new variation on heartbreak, hiding behind their smiles and bright eyes. Its too much. They love me though. And they share with me. And I get to hear their hidden stories. I can't save them though. as much as i want to. and they want me to. what can I do? I can give them hugs. I can teach them fun vocabulary words. I can buy them ice cream occasionally when they visit me like 3 did today. And I can treasure their little notes and stories. I can be present. I can be here. And that's what I gotta do.
peace love hope truth. grace.
I swear every child I talk to has a new variation on heartbreak, hiding behind their smiles and bright eyes. Its too much. They love me though. And they share with me. And I get to hear their hidden stories. I can't save them though. as much as i want to. and they want me to. what can I do? I can give them hugs. I can teach them fun vocabulary words. I can buy them ice cream occasionally when they visit me like 3 did today. And I can treasure their little notes and stories. I can be present. I can be here. And that's what I gotta do.
peace love hope truth. grace.
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