One Day to Go

Here I sit, the day before I leave South Africa, and I am a complete mess of emotions. It was only 138 days ago that I was feeling these exact same emotions about leaving the United States.

This experience is one that I cannot even begin to put into words. Since I've been here, I've learned so much about myself, the world, and the way I fit into it. I've found my home, my heart, and grown my passion in ways I never anticipated. Each place I spent time, from Robben Island to Hermanus to the Cape Flats, has taught me something. I've learned to slow down. I've learned to appreciate what I've been given. I've learned to find joy in everything.

I'm scared to leave. I have assimilated into South African life and it's difficult to remember how to function in the US. I think back to the initial culture shock I dealt with when I arrived here and I am anticipating the same when I get home. At least I'm a little more prepared this time.

One thing I am really going to miss is the weather. The crazy snow and blizzards lately in Washington will be a drastic change from the gorgeous 100 degree African summer I've been experiencing. I have developed a tan like I've never had, and it will surely wither away quickly after I get home. I'll miss that.

I know I'm all over the place in this post, but the reason is that I feel so disjointed. I'm nervous about leaving. I'm nervous about being home. I'm nervous about not knowing what to do next. Africa has changed so much in me and I'm anxious to see how that affects the ways in which I understand my surroundings.

Despite all of this, I cannot wait to see my family and friends at home. Even though I know I belong in Africa, I also know I belong with Shannon and our little family and I am excited to be back with them.

KLJ

Dearest Kelsey,

It’s taken me a while to write this letter. I’m not even quite sure where to begin.

The more time I spend in this amazing place, the more I realize that this trip has been bringing me closer to you. You would have loved all of the adventures I’ve gone on. The cheetahs especially, but more than that. You would have loved Africa, at least what I’ve experienced of it. I want to show you so many things here.

There are so many bugs here, big exotic ones. I saw a massive four or five inch caterpillar the other day. It was definitely a Kelsey kind of caterpillar. I’d never seen one quite so big before. I wish you were there. That was the same day I went to see the cheetahs, which I did for you. They were beautiful. Big and majestic. Just like you. I felt you next to me that day. Sitting in there with Enigma. Were you petting him, too? I hope so.

You were the kind of girl that held a special place in her heart for all things wild, and I think you would have been a woman with a passion for the beauty of wildlife. I’m certain you and I would have shared a passion for Africa, and the more I ruminate on that, the more assured of it I grow. There is an entirely different life force here that has wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, and I can sense that it would have been the right fit for you too.

I knew this trip would be a lot of things for me. I also knew that I couldn’t know what those things were until they happened. It’s turned out that it has become a time for me to learn about different outlooks on life. I’ve had a chance to exist in a slower pace. I’ve learned about who I am as a friend and the strength I possess as a woman. But one of the things I never expected was to feel you here so strongly. You are almost everywhere I go here.

I’m still unpacking what that means. Was that part of why I was pulled here? What am I supposed to learn from this; from your presence here? Am I getting to know you better? Am I preparing to finally let go? Why are we here together? Did I bring you here or did I find you here?

I think you are a big reason why I am reluctant to leave. I’ve felt closer to you here than I have ever before. I’m afraid to lose that. I’m afraid to lose the new relationship I’ve built with you. But I’m also afraid that I’m supposed to leave you here. You belong here, Kelsey.

I love you and it breaks my heart every day that you were taken away. But I really hope that you’ve found peace.

Goodnight, my Angel, now it’s time to sleep.
Always, Sam

One Soul, Two Cultures

In my final two-and-a-half weeks, it is finally beginning to settle in that I have to leave my home. Over the last 120 days, I have been eagerly counting down the time until I could return to my fiancée and our furry family. But now, those days are gone. Of course, I am excited to return to my family and friends, but when it comes to the life and home I have built here in beautiful South Africa, I am anything but.

When I first arrived in Stellenbosch, there were many things that were wildly exotic and quintessentially African, like the gorgeous intertwining trees that are ubiquitous in this country. The masses of wild Birds of Paradise were charming and unwilling to let me forget that I was, indeed, not in Kansas anymore. Sights that, in America, people pay good money to see, such as a herd of zebras or water buffalo, or a flock of ostriches that originally enticed me to draw out my camera have since become commonplace. All of these things that were new and foreign have become part of the everyday and it takes effort to picture my life without them. Along with the sights that I am now accustomed to are simple ways of life that I am beginning to realize are not compliant with American social norms. One of the things I have come to love is the freedom to go barefoot wherever I am. “No shoes, no shirt, no service” doesn’t exist in South Africa, and I openly celebrate that.

The first day I went barefoot was a handful of weeks into the semester. I was walking to class on a bright, warm day in my flip-flops. I had noticed, in the past, many guys sans footwear, but I had recently spotted a girl without shoes and I was excited to test the waters. I confidently pulled my sandals off my feet and stowed them in my bag. The rest of the walk to class felt much like a primary school student getting to wear her favorite new school clothes in public. I was positively gleeful.

On Halloween, during my terribly exciting walk through Cape Town dressed as a zombie, we came upon a gaggle of tourists. Of all the things to be concerned with- the mess of blood dripping from our mouths, our ripped, stained clothes, the awkward limp accompanying our gaits- they looked at us with unsure eyes and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Just tonight, I made my umpteenth all-too-routine trip to Tapas. Each step of the walk down the two flights of stairs, down the two halls, over the ant-filled sidewalk crack, out of the Concordia stronghold, out to the Academia parking lot and through to the little snack shop was made with bare feet.

This is so normal to me now. Going to class, going to the library, going for food can not only be done without shoes, but also without regard, and I don’t want it any other way.

Another of the things that are now ordinary to me is the absolute diversity of the country. While it is true that Stellenbosch is a very conservative place and, by correlation, non-diverse by African standards, by American standards, it is exceptionally diverse. If I go a day without hearing at least 5 languages, something is wrong. If I don’t struggle with the pronunciation of at least two of the words I am reading, I’m not paying enough attention. I’ve learned at least 12 different ways to say a single English word correctly. I hear clicks during conversations and think nothing of it. I am greeted by smiling faces of every color imaginable every day and I don’t want it any other way.

Being back in the United States is going to be difficult. I’m no longer solely American, though I’d argue I never was. I have become a beautiful cultural hybrid, fluent in dollars and rand, in Celsius and Fahrenheit, in sakkies and bags. I am part South African now and as it finally settles in that I have to leave my home, I am anything but eager.

Dompas at Stellenbosch University?

This is re-blogged from damehumilis.wordpress.com
I found it important enough (and outrageously offensive enough) to share with you.

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Press Release
07 October 2010
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact : Motlalepula Musina
Nathan Adonis, Thobile Ntaka, Lungi Dali
15466469@sun.ac.za


We draw the public’s attention to the issue of racial profiling at this institution. This issue reached a boiling point at a Student Parliament gathering held on Tue 5 Oct Oct 2010. Student parliament is an open forum for all Stellenbosch University students to engage in discussion about matters tabulated in the agenda. This agenda is drawn up and distributed by the Student Parliament Committee. This occurs once a term and for this term the Van Der Sterr Geboue was the venue where the following items were on the agenda:

- Election of Speaker 2011

- Feedback from the SRC Chairperson Jan Greyling

- Student fees

- Student safety and SAPS

When the meeting commenced, the current Madam Speaker of the House Helene van Tonder, advised there will be a 50-50 Eng/Afr medium and suggested that all non-Afrikaans speakers use the services of a translator. That service consisted of 24 translation sets for the entire parliament. For those that did not get one of those sets, the Madam Speaker asked that the non-Afrikaans speaker ask his/her neighbour to translate.

It is most absurd, that for a forum that is supposed to include and engage all students – undergraduate and post-graduate, local and international, is held in Afrikaans by default. This is despite the fact that the University’s Policy on language stipulates that a postgraduate student will be catered for in English and that is a requirement for international students to pass an English literacy test before being accepted into the university.

- Election of Speaker 2011

A concern was raised about the legitimacy of student parliament. Since its inception, the student parliament has been operating without a Constitution. The basis of the argument was that it is the Constitution that will guide the electoral process, and stipulates role of the Speaker. Madam Speaker van der Tonder informed that this document was still being drafted and would be ready by early 2011. A suggestion was made that the elections be postponed until the document if finalized. Madam Speaker van der Tonder did not have the power to make that decision and would need to consult the SRC. However, since the matter was part of this agenda, the election would continue as scheduled.

- Feedback from the SRC and Student fees

SRC Chairperson Jan Greyling gave feedback on the state of his negotiations with University Management. This was a follow up on a report given by the University Management on 21 September 2010, where student fees for 2011 were projected to increase by 12% for tuition and 15% for residence. Greyling used a PowerPoint presentation to help visualise and engage the house. His presentations did not abide to the 50-50 language rule set out by the Madam Speaker. The financial figures and table were strictly in Afrikaans.

For the meeting held on 21 Sept and this student parliament, minutes of the meetings and their supporting material (ppt slides) are still not available for the student’s perusal. Without these documents it is very difficult to objectively critique their content against the discussion.

Greyling informed the house that University Management were willing to reduce the increase by a mere 1% for both tuition and residence. He then followed with a justification for the respective 11% and 14% increase.

* Parking – Since the university has a shortage of over 5000 parking spaces, R80mil would be spend over the next 5 years to build new parking facilities.
* Bicycles – R0.5mil will be used to purchase new bicycles. To adopt a greener model of living, a new model of anti-theft, durable, economic bicycles would be imported from Amsterdam. These bicycles will then be leased to students for the year.
* Maintenance
* Lectures salaries – to attract the best staff and maintain a high academic standard
* Inflation
* Rising electricity bills
* Property taxes

A question was raised about why parking and bicycles is so high on the priorities list, when there are loans and bursaries to consider. This is especially relevant since parking and bicycles are a luxury and education is a need. Moreover, parking and bicycles benefits only certain category of students, yet all students must bear the cost acquiring them. Greyling advised that the increase was justifiable but negotiation with University Management were still to continue.

- Student safety and SAPS

Due to the rising number of crime incidents reported in and around campus, the University’s campus protection services and Stellenbosch SAPS were invited to shed some light on the matter. Mr Pool, the SAPS representative reinforced that safety is the responsibility of all students and that the entire community needs to work together to promote a secure environment.

A question about the persistent problem of racial profiling was raised with the SAPS. Their capacity to prosecute criminals and harassment of black students was too queried. Mr Pool did not have answers on why the police are failing to prosecute criminals. He advised that he would need to look at each case individually and thus cannot answer to that. On the issue of racial profiling Mr Poole informed that in order to avoid being mistaken for a criminal, the black students must carry their student cards in and out of campus at all times. There was no objection /explanation / clarification from neither the SRC Chairperson nor the Dean of Students present at the parliament.

In closing, the newly elected Speaker for 2011 was announced and the meeting was adjourned.

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So, essentially, Stellenbosch University has returned to the dompas system. For those of you who don't know what a dompas is, I will give you a short background.

During apartheid, blacks and coloureds were assigned to "homelands." There were ten territories around the country and movement for non-whites was restricted to these areas. If someone wanted to travel anywhere outside of these "homelands" then he or she had to have a pass, a sort of passport. Imagine having to have a passport to go to the next town to visit family. While your white counterpart did not. If you did not have your pass on you, you were thrown in jail (at best). These passes were called "dompas" by those who were forced to use them. Dompas mean, of course, stupid pass.

The pass laws in South Africa were the heart of the apartheid era as they severely limited mobility for non-whites. They were degrading and inhumane. These laws were abolished in 1986.

Now Stellenbosch University is, in essence, doing the exact same thing. They are encouraging non-white students to carry their cards to prove they aren't criminals. Do white students have to worry about this? Of course not.

This is simply outrageous. This is on my ever-growing list of reasons I don't like Stellenbosch. I much prefer Kayamandi or Lynedoch. Places where people are loved for who they are. Stellenbosch is known as a very conservative town with outdated views on the world, yet somehow I am shocked by this.

This is downright offensive.

Preparing to click my heels

So much is going on.

School is over in two weeks. I've got one week of class and one week of finals. Three papers, two finals, and one oral test (for Afrikaans).

I'm hardcore stressing because there is so much to do.

I'm starting to think about transitioning back into the US and I'm nervous. I've acclimatized to South Africa that I know there are some things that will be weird. I've gotten used to looking right for on-coming cars instead of left. I've gotten used to the value of Rand (roughly $1 = R7). Things are gonna look really cheap when I get home. I've started talking in metric values. I get excited about a 76% on an assignment. I don't look for eggs in refrigerated isles because they aren't refrigerated. I add the letter 'u' to words that have 'o' and 'r' next to each other (like favourite). I like that South Africans don't ask "is that legal?" when I tell them I'm getting married to a woman because this country recognizes that love is love.

I've learned more about how ridiculous the American school system is. I've learned more about racism and sexism and I KNOW little things are going to piss me off when I get back into the states. It's going to be weird and different, but I know I will learn a lot.

I went to the District Six museum yesterday and it kind of put some things in perspective for me. It was more focused on the people whose lives were ruined when they were forcibly removed from their homes and put in Langa, the first township in Cape Town. They were taken from beautiful land with gorgeous views and forced to live outside the city on terrible land.

This photo is of what is called the "Tree of Remembrance." The seed was planted in 1948 and when people were forced out of District Six and everything, homes and shops included, were bull-dozed, this tree is one of the few things that survived. It witnessed the horrors that racism made happen and is a living reminder of what once was. People are now moving back into the area and I hope that this tree reminds them of home and that they do belong.

I still have 39 days here. I've been here for 99 days.

My last final is on the 27th. I leave Africa on November 25th. That's 29 days of nothing to do. I have to figure out how I'm going to spend those days on a very limited budget, but no matter what I do, I know it will be awesome because I am in South Africa.

The Little Things I Love about South Africa

Rooibos.
If I can’t get this in the States, I will be looking for an exporter. I love this tea. It’s amazing.

Husks.
Okay, at first, these sort of creeped me out. It’s like biscotti only thicker and made with different things. Jenna really enjoys the breakfast husks, which usually have pumpkin seeds and raisins and whatnot in them. However, there are a number of other types, like Muesli husks (made of granola). These things are awesome with peanut butter and/or dunked in coffee (or Rooibos). I am sad that they are specific to southern Africa.

Wild Calla Lilies.
As some of you know, Callas are my favourite flower. They also grow wild here. They’re everywhere. On the side of every street. They are as common as dandelions in the US, only much prettier. How amazing is it that I am surrounded by the beauty of this flower all the time?

The grading scale.
50%-59% is a D. 60%-69% is a C. 70%-74% is a B. 75% and up is an A. The theory behind this type of grading scale is that to receive 100% would mean that you are at the same level as the professor. The percentage is that of (ideally) perfection. To be at 75% of the professor is really good, therefore, it’s an A. I like this because it reminds everyone that there is always room for improvement, even if you get an A.

Pineapple Fanta.
Okay, this one was built up a little too far for me (sorry Baby) but it was still good. I don’t think it’s something you can find, or at least not easily, in the States. It’s pretty tasty, and I do recommend you give it a try if you ever stumble upon it.

Taxes on plastic grocery bags.
I think it’s pretty simple. More people bring their own when you have to pay 36 cents per bag. Go South Africa.

Tax on ALL items already included on sticker price.
You don’t have to worry about doing the math in your head when you’re working on a limited budget. The tax is automatically included on the advertised price. They’re straightforward with it. That’s awesome.

Pinotage.
This cultivar is specific to South Africa. The Pinot Noir grape was cross pollinated with the Hermitage grape to create Pinotage, a red grape that produces a rather complex wine. It is quite common in South Africa and while it is currently the only country producing this wine (and they don’t export to the US, so I will be bringing a bottle home), New Zealand is looking to start.

Doritos.
Now, I understand that you may be thinking, “But we have Doritos in the States? What’s the big deal?” but you don’t know the full story. Here, the Doritos brand is owned by a South African company called “Simba.” As a result, these chips are WAYYYY better. They don’t skimp on the seasoning. And the flavours here are different than those offered in the US. For instance, my current favourite flavours are Sour Cream and Mild Chilli, Buffalo Wings, and Sweet Chilli Pepper.

The drinking age.
Now, I know it doesn’t really affect me. I was already 21 when I was in the US, so it’s nothing new. However, because the drinking age here is 18, I have NEVER been carded in this country. 90% of the time, I don’t even have my ID on me. It’s kind of nice to not worry at all about having my ID or being carded. And on a related note, bouncers accept your University Student ID when they card you, even though it doesn’t have your age or DOB on it simply because if you are in college you are most likely 18 anyway (those lucky dogs who start when they’re 17).

The Metric System.
‘Nuff said.

Avocados on just about everything.
These South Africans have got it right. Avo is served on or with many of the items on a menu, including (but not limited to) chicken, curry, hamburgers (not burgers, because a “burger” is a citizen, so if you order a “burger,” they may bring you a person), rice, and a number of other things. I definitely think the US should follow suit on this one.

Most signs are in three different languages.
I know I’ve said before that South Africa has 11 official languages, but many of those are regional. Where I am, there are three main languages. Afrikaans, English, and isiXhosa. The vast majority of road signs and other public signs are in those three languages. I am learning a lot of words very quickly. It’s really interesting, and I love that I get to learn at least parts of other languages through the signs. And usually, when there is only one language on a sign, it’s Afrikaans, so I am picking that language up much quicker than I otherwise would.

There are so many other things that I love about this country. I just wanted to share a few of them with you.

Racism and Conscious Choice

This will probably be the most difficult post I’ve written to date. I apologize in advance for its heaviness.

I’m racist. That’s a very difficult thing to admit, so you should start practicing because you’re racist, too. At the risk of sounding like “Avenue Q,” I will say that to some extent, we are all racist. Whether that means we are blatant with it, as is less and less common these days, to insidious about it, as is more and more common, to what I will term socially internally racist, which is where I fit in this equation. Of course, this issue is far more complex than three groups of people, but for the purposes of simplicity, this is how I am going to go about explaining.

The first group enabled the institutionalizing of racism, as the US saw until the 60s, and South Africa saw until 1994, and further, though it has dissipated. This group stretches from one extreme, the KKK for example, to less menacing institutionalism, to people who simply hate those who are outside of their race classification to little or no consequence. These people are outwardly racist and do not hide that fact.

The second group is, in my opinion, the most dangerous. I have touched on this group before, but I will reiterate for the sake of my argument. This group includes those who are racist and may or may not know it. Oftentimes, they do not know it. This is a tragedy created by society. We, the world as a whole, have taught our people that to be light/white is good and safe and to be dark/black is to be bad and dangerous. Perhaps not in so clear of terms, but we teach it when we send our children to schools where the student body largely reflects their skin color, we teach it when we warn our children about what parts of the neighborhood to stay away from at night. We teach it when we buy houses in neighborhoods that are non-diverse. We teach it every day, in every way. We grow up hearing about genocide and xenophobia and praise our children for not being racist, yet we are, and so are they. This group includes the majority of the world.

The third group is very closely related to the second one with one major different, those in this group are aware of their racism. Through education we learn that we are prejudiced. We become aware of the ways in which racism has infiltrated our (sometimes) accepting (and sometimes, not) upbringing and we are appalled by them. We recognize that equality can only be achieved through the conscious choices we make and that we urge others to make. This group of people are the ones fighting racism and discrimination in schools, the workplace, housing, government, cultural events, and many other places. I call this social internal racism because the racism comes from our socialization process. We learn it from those around us as we grow up and internalize it. We don’t exhibit outward racism because it doesn’t exist. We are, for all intents and purposes, not racist. But it’s still inside of us. It is up to the individual to become aware of this internal racism and make choices to combat it.

Being in South Africa has heightened my awareness of my whiteness. I know that when I am walking down the street at night, as I am walking, that people will not fear me. They won’t wonder how many children I have or how I afforded my clothes. They will not assume much. I am aware of this in those moments, not just afterwards. Being here has made me painfully aware of my own racism. For example, I was walking to a meeting the other night just past dusk. I was alone and my destination wasn’t too much further. As I was walking down the street, I spotted a black man sitting on a bench, not really doing much. My immediate instinct was to move away, to go to the other side of the road. What if this had been a white man? Would I still have felt the need to distance myself? Would I have felt the same sense of potential danger? I felt ashamed. The difference, though, is that I know why those instincts exist. I know how they were created, which is far more complex than I can begin to describe, as it involves class dynamics, race dynamics, history, society, and a host of other issues. I know why I was prejudiced, and therefore, I gain power over it. I have the power to discover, question, and diminish discrimination.

I implore you to look into your head and heart and discover your racism. Many of you reading this already have. You are people I would consider part of the third group, but I know that some of you are very much still in the second group, living without knowledge of your prejudice. Look at how it has influenced your life, even if only in small ways. Painful though it may be, look at how it has altered your perceptions of people. You have the ability to gain power over your discrimination and change your life, and others in turn. It’s so easy to sit back and let it happen; after all, you’re the beneficiary. But please, I beseech of you, don’t.

For those of you willing to open yourselves up to this issue, I am completely willing to have in depth conversations with anyone on this topic if you feel the need to learn more or if you want to explore your thoughts and feelings. This is such an important issue to talk about. Please, if you need to talk, I am here.

How to Get Your Butt Kicked by a Mountain

I am seriously losing my game of Sam v. Africa.

Table Mountain, or Tafelberg, is a relentless, oddly-shaped fortress of rock that will crush you like the slowest gazelle in the herd if you don't come prepared with a six pack (not the beer) and your big-kid pants.

I was aware that the trail up was difficult, but no one informed me that it was the most difficult climb on the mountain. Gee, thanks Interstudy! You guys ROCK.

Platteklip Gorge is the way we (or, I should say, most of us) got up the mountain. It's extremely steep, you're more climbing the mountain than hiking it. It's 2 hours of straight uphill, and 30 minutes in, my knees were threatening to pop off and bludgeon me to death, so I hiked back down and over the the cable car. From there, it was a short 4 minute ride up the mountain. It felt like a cop-out and I was embarrassed that I couldn't make it. However, I didn't miss the bulk of the hike.

The view from the top is astonishing. You can see the arm that reaches out to Cape Point disappearing into the sky and sea. The ocean goes out so far that it touches the clouds. All of Cape Town, Kirstenbosch, countless small towns, and beyond is visible. You can see Robben Island (see first two photos) and it's absolutely gorgeous. This place is absolutely stunning. I could have just sat there and looked out for hours.

After lunch on the top, we walked all the way across the table to the other side of the top to the highest point in Cape Town. From there, we started our trek down. Along the way, we came across a few lizards, a trio of dams (and some lakes to go with), other hikers, and a barrage of awkwardly-shapen rocks to dance around. The hike down took about 4 hours, but it was wonderful.

Today, my body is recounting the tale to me with every move I make. I'm sore from head to toe. I'm even sore in muscles I was unaware that I had. I'm absolutely not joking when I say this hike, even accounting for the part that I missed, is not to be taken lightly. I have a sunburn across the back of my neck and my shoulders and arms (I put sunscreen on, just not enough, apparently). But I'd say that the whole trip was worth it.

And I would like to say, for the record, that I am planning a rematch against dear ol' Tafelberg. I'm going back when I don't have a group to slow down and I am going to conquer Platteklip Gorge. I am determined. If it weren't for the time-constraint, I could have made it yesterday.

I will beat you, Platteklip. Just you wait.

Looking Behind the Curtain

I think this is what is known as the Negotiation and then Adjustment phases of culture shock.

I apologize for the slight delay in posts, but at least it hasn’t been over a month (ahem, like Jenna).

The Honeymoon phase is, indeed, dead and reality has settled in. My time here has revealed the spit beneath the shine of Stellenbosch. This town is a haven of sorts. It’s very European and “safe.” In fact, it feels like I could still be in the States. However, there are race dynamics at play here of which I couldn’t begin to scratch the surface. The biggest indicator that there is something awry is the fact that while the Western Cape is made up of 80% Blacks and Coloureds (a number that roughly matches each of the bigger cities within the Western Cape, including Stellenbosch), Stellenbosch University has less than 30% Blacks and Coloureds. There is both institutional and very personal racism prevalent here.

I have a professor, who shall go unnamed, but suffice it to say he teaches history, that I believe is very much part of the problem. He is an Afrikaner and upholds all traditional Afrikaner beliefs. I don’t recall if I gave a very clear picture of what “Afrikaner” means, but if I didn’t, I’ll do it briefly now. Afrikaners are descendants from the (White) dutch that colonized South Africa. They speak Afrikaans (something I will be getting into in a moment). They intermixed mostly with Germans and French that came to the country, though some also have west-African slave ancestry. Their conflicts with the British are similar to those the British had with people in the American colonies. It would take me much too long to really get into the history of the Afrikaner people, but I will say that there is a history of contention between them and indigenous peoples (mostly those that are Black and Coloured) that has lessened but it still present today. Back to my point though, is that this professor is the most insidious type of racist there is, the kind that doesn’t think he’s racist. And he teaches history. To people who aren’t from South Africa and will believe just about anything he says about it. In an aggravating conversation I had with him, we debated the value of the Affirmative Action system and he calmly told me that the reason it should be done away with was because people of color were lazy and couldn’t do any of their jobs right. He is one of (presumably; I haven’t taken classes from EVERY professor) several lecturers on campus that promote this kind of thinking and inhibit the growth of equality in a country that needs it very much.

I am taking a beginner’s course in Afrikaans right now. I knew a very small amount of history before I started the course, but over the semester I’ve learned quite a bit that makes me almost ashamed to be learning it instead of isiXhosa (which is also offered at SU). I’ve touched on this issue in previous posts, so I won’t go into detail, but it is very much the language of the oppressor, and my choice was simply utilitarian.

However, all of this is not to say that I don’t like South Africa or Stellenbosch. I just think that my initial impression was ill-formed.

I want to take a moment to talk about the strike, as it has an immediate effect on my life right now.

The public sector is currently striking in South Africa. This includes nurses, teachers, immigration officers, government officials, and many others. Their wages are ridiculously low, and they are asking for an 8.6% increase, still not up to American minimum wage, but closer. It is working on its fourth week right now, and the repercussions have been tragic. Hospital patients are dying due to reduced care, children across the country are losing out on education, and riots are forming. This strike, if it continues any longer, will be the longest stoppage in work since the end of Apartheid in ’94. That, paired with massive public opposition to President Jacob Zuma, has made this strike a much bigger deal that anyone anticipated. It may ultimately decide more than wages.

Now, on to the lighter stuff.

Two weekends ago, I was supposed to go to Robben Island. However, due to atrocious weather, the ferry to the island wasn’t running. That day just happened to be the day that the Athlone Cooling Towers just outside of Cape Town were scheduled to be demolished. After our first try to find a place to watch the implosion (we were almost dropped at a Police Station in a VERY unsafe part of town, until the women we were with decided it was just too unsafe, even at the station, to leave a group of white tourists), we found a “viewing area” set up with speakers for people to safely watch. We got to sit on the wet ground for an hour before the demolition, but it was still worth seeing the landmarks go up in smoke (a video of the implosion is located at the bottom of this post).

I took a trip with Jenna and Stephanie's Service Learning class to Cape Town verlede naweek (that's last weekend for those that don't speak Afrikaans). I woke up bright and early, 6am, and we made our way to the train station in quite a hurry, barely missing the train and having to wait for the next. On that trip, we attended mass at St. George's Cathedral, the church at which Desmond Tutu presided. While I'm not a believer, I was able to appreciate the beauty of both the Cathedral and the service. After that, we took a stroll through a garden/park where I befriended a squirrel and quite a few pigeons (Snow White style). We also saw the South African version of the White House. After, we visited the Holocaust museum. It was interesting to see and read about South Africa's viewpoint on this horrific event. The day was capped with lunch and a train ride back home.

I’m into the thick of school now. In fact, I interrupted writing a paper for one of my classes (Economic and Developmental Problems of South Africa and Africa, to be exact) to write this blog (the prompt, which I’m very excited about, is simply “Are we all Africans?”) I have another three papers due in the next four weeks, which is why I am using Spring Break to get it done. I’ve had my first two tests/exams. The first was in history (my WORST subject) and I am happy to report that I got an 88% (a solid A in Africa). The second was in Afrikaans and while I haven’t gotten my grade yet, I am quite confident I will receive an A.

I truly love working in Kayamandi, however, I’ve been missing my kids as of late. Because of the strike, the students haven’t been in class for three weeks. We’ve struggled with being allowed to continue working with them, as it is being seen as undermining the strike. And while the teacher side of me completely understands that, these kids still need to be learning. Because they haven’t had class, many don’t come to the after-school program I work at, so the last few weeks we haven’t had more than 5 or 6 students when we usually have 35. I’ve gotten close to a few of my students. It has been hard for me to learn some of their names, but one is fairly close to my Xhosa name (Thembi), her name is Thembisipho. Another girl I am getting to know fairly well is Yolanda. We have been working on writing stories and have played many games together. I really love being in Kayamandi. The life force I feel there is so strong, so much more exuberant than anywhere else I’ve ever been.

This next week, I plan on getting my first (and probably only) tattoo (finally). I’m very nervous yet excited about it, as it’s something I’ve been wanting to get for quite a while now. I’m planning on getting two papers done and then relaxing, perhaps doing some light travelling over this holiday week. I’ll be sure to report anything exciting.

I hope all is well at home.

Love to all.

P.S. I realize that I'm basically wearing the same outfit in ALL of my pictures. In my defense, it IS winter here, or, it was until four days ago, and it is still very cold. I only have one sweatshirt.

Oh, I could live here.

This past weekend was absolutely phenomenal! I’m so excited to share it with you.

We (all of the Interstudy students from both Stellenbosch and Cape Town) went to Hermanus for the weekend. Hermanus is located right on the beach about an hour and a half east of Stellenbosch. Because the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet at Cape Point, we were technically in the Indian. Hermanus is world-famous for its whale watching, and we certainly did a fair share of that. We stayed at the local backpackers, a very casual and homey place with a hammock, pool, and four pets (two cats, a hamster, and a dog who was on holiday). We could see the ocean from our window. It was magnificent. There was a French family staying there also, as well as some South Africans from around the country.

We arrived Friday night and settled in with a braai and some unpacking. The fun began the next day with a bang. After a 7:30 am breakfast, the first group went off to do some kayaking while the second group (that’d be mine) stayed until 8:45, then we traded off. Kayaking was so much fun, though slightly tiring on the arms. We made our way down the coast, then out to sea a little before looping back. The water was fairly calm, though we did toss a little in the waves. We stopped and a few of us jumped in (it was the Indian ocean, of course I jumped in!) and when I had finally gotten back into my kayak, the tour guide flipped it, along with my kayak-mate (Jenna) and our sunglasses. Unfortunately, I didn’t retrieve them, but oh well. How many people can say their sunglasses are now decorating the bottom of the Indian?

Promptly after kayaking, we raced our way down to the whale-watching boat we were holding up to go see some of the local whales Hermanus is known for. We took about a half hour to find them, and they were absolutely stunning. I think the captain said we found nine of them. They were Southern Right Whales, only found at the very bottom of South America, Africa, and Australia. They also are the only (or one of the only) species of whale that has two blow-holes, so that looked pretty odd. They got very close to the boat, as you can see, and it was breath-taking. Because we were in a whale sanctuary and very few people have permits to have boats there, we weren’t allowed to move while they were so close to us, so we sat, completely surrounded by whales, for about two hours. A seal came to see what all the commotion was, so I got a few pictures of him, too. On the way back, we saw quite a few penguins in the water, but when the boat got too close, they ducked under, so I didn’t get any photos of them.

The rest of Saturday was spent relaxing and recouping from the day. We had dinner at the backpacker’s that night after watching a movie. The next morning, at 6:45am, most of the group went off to Shark Cage dive, but I stayed back and slept in until 8am. The 8 of us that didn’t go diving had breakfast and then we went on an impromptu hike up through Baboon territory in the mountains of Hermanus. We went up to a little waterfall and hung out for a while. It was odd how similar it was to the hikes I’ve done in Washington, yet so dissimilar with the Baboon calls and indigenous plants. We hiked down and then went to the beach. It was amazing. There was a lagoon and the sand was incredibly soft beneath my bare toes. We kicked around a soccer ball and stuck our feet in the water. The beach was also both familiar and not, but I tried to stop comparing and just enjoyed the lovely day.

After that, we stopped in town. While a few people went in to get gelato, I stayed out and spotted the whales from the cliff I was perched on. Not only were they playing, but they were breaching, which is the technical term for when they jump out of the water. There were about 4 or 5 of them, all breaching. It was amazing. I snapped some well-timed shots of them half-way out of the water on their sides. There are a few hypotheses as to why they do this, but the two most probable are that they are a) trying to get the itchy barnacles off of their skin. That can’t be too fun to swim around with all the time, and b) that they are just playing and showing off for one another. Either way, it was very cool to see them jumping over and over again.

After we got back to the backpackers, the whole group drove up into the hills for some more fun. We split into two groups again, and while one group went quad biking, my group went paintballing. I was terrified, as I had never been hit by a paintball before. However, one of the guys that worked there fixed that and shot me in the calf, giving me my first bruise of the day. We split into two teams of three and played a few rounds which were really fun. I took out a few people of my own also, which was quite exciting. In fact, Hermanus Adventures (the “company” this was all through) got video of me creeping through the bushes and taking out Ouma, one of the Interstudy staff. Our last round was a “zombie” round, meaning that instead of being shot once and being out, you just keep going until you run out of ammo or are in too much pain. I got shot quite a few times in my thighs and also on my back and the back of my neck. It hurt a lot, and I have about 10 bruises to prove it, but I still had fun.

After that, we went quad biking. It was exciting, as I had never driven an ATV before, but I enjoyed it. Apparently I was on the fastest bike of the bunch, and I was quite enjoying myself. I was doing 50 kph (that’s about 31mph for you folks back in the states) and passing people, and I wish I could have gone faster. We drove through a bunch of vineyards and stopped when we found ourselves on top of one of the hills/mountains. We had a breathtaking view of all of Hermanus and the ocean all the way out until it met the sky. It was amazing. After that, we returned to “base camp” and then the whole group went back to the backpacker's to collect our things before heading off to Cape Town and Stellenbosch, respectively.

I can honestly say that it was the experience of a lifetime. The entire weekend was filled with exciting things that I have never gotten to do before, and I am thrilled that I get to say that I did them in South Africa. Next weekend is Robben Island, so be prepared for another update!

Language, Race, and Identity

There are a couple of things that have been on my mind increasingly as of late. These are some issues I’ve seen and felt and experienced to the point that I think it’s important for everyone to spend a little time thinking about them, too.

In the US, it’s obvious that English is the ruling language. And while attempts have been made to validate Spanish on a governmental level, it’s quite clear what the state’s opinion is. English is the way of life. And that’s not something that is too difficult to live by, especially in Washington state. We don’t neighbor Mexico, or any non-English speaking countries. We don’t think about it. We assume that the store checker speaks English. We assume our neighbors understand every word we speak. It’s a form of privilege, the right to assume.

In South Africa, it’s the same, while it’s also not. South Africa has 11 official languages. Here, people speak Afrikaans. People speak IsiNdebele, and IsiXhosa. They speak IsiZulu, as well as Setswana. People speak Xitsonga, SiSwati, Sesotho, and Sepedi. People speak Tshivenda. That’s ten. Of course, you can’t forget English. Because everyone speaks English, right?

Wrong.

White people speak English, and everyone else is forced to learn. So, it’s still a privilege to assume here. I can assume people have taken the time to learn my language, while so many Americans laugh and make fun of the indigenous tongues spoken in “all those third-world countries.”

Another huge issue here, especially regarding language, is segregation and racism. And by here, I even mean Stellenbosch University. This school was, and is still to a certain extent, an Afrikaans-only university. It was funded that way, with donors applying contingencies to their money. At first, I saw that as a positive thing. Finally! A school that appreciates it’s heritage and isn’t conforming to this English rule. I quickly learned.

Afrikaans, while the name may fool you, is not exactly an indigenous language, either. When you listen to it, it sounds like Dutch. Well, that’s because it is Dutch to a large extent. It’s African/English-ized Dutch.

Here’s a very brief history lesson. In the 17th century, Southern Africa was “discovered” and colonized by the Dutch who were trying to get to India for spices (what is it with India being the cause of colonization?) and, ostensibly, money. They got tired going around the bottom of Africa, so they made a pit-stop and took over the cape. After a while, they made slaves out of the San people (or, as we know them, Bush People) and exploited the hell out of them.

So, even Afrikaans is a white language. They were trying to make SU a white school, and for the most part, it worked. I don’t know a single person of color who speaks Afrikaans, so how in the world are they supposed to go to school here? It’s du jure segregation at its finest, people.
Now, of course, classes are being offered in English as well, and as we all know, everyone speaks English, so the school is diversifying.

One of my personal topics with which I’ve been working on is the nature of Identity. It’s interesting to compare where I’ve come from, where identity is all about uniqueness, to where I currently am, where identity is much more powerful. To identify as white means something even more profound than in the states. I have a friend, Stephanie, who is Mexican American. She lives in El Paso, and is very much “a Mexican” at home. However, the second she set foot on African soil, she was white. How can that be? Aren’t we taught that race is genetic? You can’t just switch like that. Except race is hardly genetic. In a biological sense, race doesn’t exist. It’s a socio-political tool. We are much less aware of identity in the US than I am now becoming here. And not just in a color-of-my-skin way. Cultural identity is obvious, especially throughout the international community. There are people of color here from the states and from Europe. And they struggle just as much as anyone in terms of knowing oneself in the context of another culture. I am becoming much more aware of who I am, how I work and think, and why I am on this planet. I feel my identity here. I feel it changing, and I feel it solidifying.

I’m sorry this post has been so heavy, but these were all things I needed to get off my chest. I’m certainly not done with them, but I feel as though I’ve laid a sort of foundation on which to build my thoughts. Thank you for exploring them with me.

My African Theme Songs

I have found myself two unofficial theme songs. Both found their way to me through the children of Kayamandi, as they are constantly singing them. They are both popular, or at least known, in America right now, but that doesn’t matter.

The first one I heard was originally sung in Lynedoch, the town that my roommate has been volunteering in. She said there was this song that the kids had been singing, but when she tried to sing it for me, I didn’t recognize it at all. In fact, I’d never heard the song before at all. Then, when I went to Kayamandi, the students were singing it. They knew the song much better than Jenna, though to her credit, she tried, and they sang it loud and with pride. I could only really catch the chorus, but it was about the World Cup and how it has brought pride and happiness to the people of South Africa, even those in small townships. It is called either Wavin’ Flag or Wave Your Flag, I’m not quite sure yet. The main part of the song lyrics is “When I am older, I will be stronger, they’ll call me freedom, just like a wavin’ flag.” It’s amazing to hear the kids singing it. I’ve adopted it, as has Jenna (I think) as my African theme song.

Then, yesterday, the girls I’m tutoring in Kayamandi were singing a different song, and this one had set dance moves. They were so excited that we didn’t know the dance (or the song, for that matter) and they wanted to teach us. The song is by Shakira and it’s called “Waka Waka (Time for Africa).” It was amazing to see how happy the girls were that their continent is being called attention to in good ways, both with the World Cup and with more and more songs out there about Africa in general. Before we had to leave, they taught us the main dance moves that are set to the chorus, which is a jumble of real words and made up ones (they said that Waka doesn’t mean anything in any language they know).

Because of the joy these two songs bring to the kids of Kayamandi, and ostensibly, to me, I am dubbing them my African theme songs. I’m sure along the way, there’ll be more, but for now, this is it.

Inspired by Africa and Rent

What is life? Why is life?

Should we really live as if each day were our last, or should we keep hopes, aspirations, and dreams alive? Life is impossible to know. To really know. As I am here, growing, learning, and hopefully living, others are not. They stay shelled. But am I really living? Are you?

Life is more than the sum of its parts or a collection of events that happen to us. Life is bigger than pumping organs that provide us with biological sustenance. It is how we think, how we move, where we dance, who we laugh with, and what we appreciate. It is an outlook. It’s not about stuff, it’s not about popularity. It’s about love and ever-growing knowledge.

We can’t live life waiting. That’s the true definition of slowing dying. Waiting. For the next disaster, for the next windfall. For the next heartbreak. That’s death. You don’t have to live like that, or you’ll die like that. You can see the good in life, the people that you love, that love you. You can open your heart and mind to living.

I know you have the capability to truly live, but something is holding you back. You don’t have to be a victim. You are a survivor, through and through, and you have every right to feel like one. Why waste a survivor’s strength on fear? On doubt, or on regret? Where will those things really get you in the end? Where will they lead you? To longer life? To happiness? No. Quite the opposite. But you can choose something else for yourself. You can decide to live despite the fear, and the shitty cards that you were dealt. I see people here in the streets outside their tin shanty homes, wearing worn and ripped clothing, not knowing where their next meal will come from, with the most astonishing peace in their hearts and on their faces. I am both ashamed and jealous of their tranquility in the face of could-be death. To love the earth, the very soil we so often dismiss as dirt, is something they wake each day to do. I wish you could see how much joy true life brings to these people who have let go of the search for things and for pity. It’s the most inspiring thing I’ve ever encountered.

And we have the ability to follow in their footsteps. You can live with peace instead of fear.

I didn’t start writing this with you in mind, but sitting here, watching the words flow from my heart, I know that they are meant for you. I love you, and I know it’s hard to truly open your mind to these words, but I promise that if you do, you will see.

You will see. And you will love.

Kayamandi

This is an email I sent Shannon on July 23rd.

I went to Kayamandi today. I both knew and didn't know what to expect.

I'm sure you know what most townships look like. So did I. But it was different walking through it. I had to choke down tears the entire time. It broke my heart to see these small children wearing tattered clothes and shoes, if any at all. The homes were smaller than my dorm room, which I complained about. The older kids were completely jaded to us. The small children waved incessantly, and a few ran up to hug us or hold our hands. A small girl hugged me and walked with me for a block. The shops, the nice ones at least, were in shipping crates.

There were animal skulls and bones everywhere. Rotting flesh in the streets from butchered cattle. It was too much to take in.

The worst part was the orphanage. It took all I had to hold in my pain-wracked sobs. Those poor children. The vast majority of the parents had died from AIDS. The local doctor, while free, only comes into town twice a week, for 4 hours each. That's not enough for the more than 35,000 people living in Kayamandi.

I was constantly checking in with my heart and my body the entire time and I felt so many emotions. The most obvious being guilt. I was overcome with terrible guilt. Not one month ago, I was complaining about an unattractive apartment that didn't have a nice bathroom. I feel so ashamed of that. I feel unrightfully privileged in life. This is hard. Harder than I had anticipated.

I'm having a hard time consolidating knowledge to the point where I can make sense of my experience today. It was both terrifyingly heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. I'm also looking forward to returning every week and seeing how my understanding and appreciation of Kayamandi changes.

I think this project, spending three hours with these kids every week, will be the heart of this trip. This is why I am here. And I selfishly think I will be getting more out of it than the kids will.

Not Quite a Local, Yet

I've decided to start a blog while I am here, instead of sending out the mass emails. This way, more people can see what I have to say about South Africa.

I've been here for a grand total of 22 days, and already, I feel like I belong. Of course, there are so many things that I have yet to grasp about this country, this culture, but I know that if I put the effort into it, this could be my home.

I have started class already, and I can tell that I am going to enjoy it immensely. Instead of sticking strictly to classes that apply to my major, I am taking a menagerie of courses. And Overview of South African History is, so far, my worst class. And by that, I mean that I have a very tactless professor. He has clearly taught his fair share of international students, and he stereotypes students from different countries like I can't even describe. He had a small group of us stay after class one day and showed us a collection of South African commercials that were, in my eyes, racist. He, however, was defending them, claiming they were in good fun and not really racist. At one point, I nearly started a... heated discussion (if you will) with him. I left well enough alone, though.

My other courses have been superb. My two favorites so far, and I hypothesize they'll remain my favorites, are my two English classes. The first is called "Writing Violence" and we'll be studying how violence is represented in books and movies. I'm thrilled. The class is made up mostly of local South African students, and only a handful of internationals. I am trying to get to know them as best I can, and look forward to it. The second class I am most anticipating is Queer Studies. This one is also a collection of local and international students. It seems all, or at least most, of the people in that class are ready for deep debate and conversation on the readings and assignments. Aside from Brokeback Mountain, all our readings are by South African writers, a number of which are (or were) even faculty at University of Stellenbosch (US). Our first assignment, other than reading, was to research the etymology of the word "queer." I've never enjoyed doing homework more. Needless to say, I am pumped for almost all of my academics here.

Aside from getting to know the school has been getting to know the town. It's absolutely gorgeous here. I've mentioned before how Stellenbosch is almost completely surrounded by mountains, and I'll post some photos also. It's also wine country, so there are vineyards sprinkled in and around the town. Much like the Pullman area is called "the Palouse", this area is called "Boland", and Boland is filled with good, cheap wine. About a week ago, we opened a bottle of Riesling from Paarl that cost R35, or $5, and it was delicious. We opened a bottle of Pinotage Rose (a type of wine they do not export) that cost R21, or $3, last night and it was also quite lovely. That, paired with the wine course I'll be taking here, will positively ruin me for cheap wine back home.

My roommate, Jenna, and I are "basically a practical joke," so says our new friend, Stephanie. One would think that mixing a conservative devout traditionalist Catholic with a liberal feminist lesbian would be the start of a corny joke, but it turns out that we get along quite well. Despite our rather deep conversations on the matter of religion and somewhat lighter discussions of politics, we've managed to try to see an issue from the other's point of view quite respectfully. I'm glad to be rooming (flatting? it is a flat) with someone who is of the same mind as me in regards to our passions in Africa. We are here for what seems to be the same reasons, and for that, I am grateful to be sharing this experience with her.

As for the more serious aspects of living in South Africa, I can definitely feel my world perspectives broadening. It is one thing to know the facts surrounding racial and socioeconomic disparity in sub-Saharan Africa, but it is an entirely different thing to see it. Stellenbosch is a sort of bubble. It's a small town with a gorgeous campus at it's heart, surrounded by quaint European-esque shops and restaurants. Safety is less of an issue than the larger Cape Town. However, if you travel a meer three or four kilometers outside of the main city block, it becomes obvious that there are vast differences in the lives of the locals. On the outskirts of town lies Kayamandi, a township inhabited by 35,000 people just surviving. It is a 100% black and coloured community, and it is what most ill-educated westerners picture when imagining Africa. The streets are covered in garbage and filth, the houses are constructed of tin or, if you're lucky, plywood. The house numbers are spray-painted on. The shops are all in shipping crates, if that. I will be working at Ikaya Primary School with a classroom of 7th graders.

Also, despite the fact that South Africa has rebounded amazingly from Apartheid, especially in only 15 years, there are still very clear racial lines. Jenna was talking about walking to church this morning, and how as she was walking, she was completely surrounded by black South Africans. She realized that was because all the whites drive to church, and the blacks walk. During church, they pay a man, black as it happens, to watch the cars during the service. So, although they've made leaps and bounds at repairing society in terms of race and race relations, much farther than the US has done, they still have a long way to go.

All in all, I am very happy here, with the exception of missing loved ones at home. I can't wait to continue growing and learning in this gorgeous country. It offers so much that I have yet to discover, and I am more than excited to bask in all that is South Africa.