Pre-Spring Break; Zimbabwe

Although this blog post is not a past experience, it is regarding an experience that will happen this weekend. I have felt the need to reflect and gather thoughts on what to expect during this trip. My friend, Ally Stammel, and I will travel to Zimbabwe on Saturday, August 30 (leaving at 3:30am!). We will be volunteering at an orphanage/organization, called ACET, in Southwestern Zimbabwe, in a rural area called Matabeleland. While there, we will be staying with Willard, the director of the orphanage.

Although there is no direct orphan facility, the organization works to help the children in the village. In the local community, there are 3,000 orphaned children. 22% of the local children have lost one or both parents to AIDS, therefore 263 children are double orphans (lost both parents) and are living in a child headed house-hold.

There are many projects that the orphanage runs, including a home based care and support for people living with HIV. This project serves over 500 people each month. In addition, the orphanage pays school fees and gives food packages to the 263 children in child headed households. Another project is the school breakfast program, which feeds 2,700 children each day. Many of those children receive little or no other food during the day.

The orphanage has over 200 community members that are volunteers, even though many of them struggle to provide for their own family. This statement reminds me of the word I’ve constantly heard and witnessed while studying abroad – ‘ubuntu’. Ubuntu is an idea that roughly translates into “human kindness”. It is used philosophically, meaning that “I am who I am because of who we all are.” This emphasizes the necessity of building a community, because it means the world to those in the community. In a sense, it’s explaining a family within a community. Although the community may not have many luxuries, they have each other – and sometimes, that’s more important.

Ally and I are running a fundraiser with a goal of $500. As of this morning (August 26), we have raised $315. Some of this money will be used to buy things for the children, such as coloring and school supplies. The rest of the money will be donated to the orphanage, and we will be able to decide what aspects of the orphanage we think the money should go towards. To donate, visit: http://www.gofundme.com/cz5ngk

I am beyond excited for this trip, because it has been a dream of mine to volunteer at an orphanage and adopt a children from Africa (don’t worry Mom, I won’t bring a child home). I know it’s going to be an emotional journey, but I think it will be an incredible learning experience. Things will be so different in Zimbabwe compared to home and even Cape Town. Some things we take for granted, such as running water, are simple luxuries. Willard, the director who we will be staying with, mentioned that his home does not have running water, so we need to bring water bottles to drink with us. Chances are, we won't have WiFi (so please don't think I'm ignoring you that week!). 

Honestly, I could not imagine doing anything else for spring break. I know studying in South Africa is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and bungee jumping, ziplining, safaris, and country hopping sounds incredible. I’m really excited for everyone who are doing these things for break, but, it’s time to follow my heart and do what I want to do.

Schedule of events while at Zimbabwe: 

August 30: Arrive

August 31: Basketball with children

September 1: Visit local clinic, meet patients, and sit in on support group

September 2: Work with children who are building bricks for a chicken house

September 3: Meet community volunteers and gather an overview for entire program

September 4: Visit nutrition garden, visit homes, cook and African dish with children and eat with children

September 5: Meet with children and give them donations (for money we are raising)

September 6: Visit the center where youth are trained, attend a volunteer's wedding

September 7: Debriefing, head back to Cape Town

Again, to donate to this project, visit: http://www.gofundme.com/cz5ngk

Emotional Overload

There have been some experiences that have definitely been stuck in the back of my head for a while. Tonight was definitely one of them.

My friend and I were at a coffee shop/restaurant working on things for class. We went to that restaurant tonight because they had a special for 45R pasta ($4.50). I looked up for a couple seconds and couldn't help but notice an elderly couple sitting a couple tables down from me. The man had long hair, a straggly beard, dirty face, and a ripped shirt. The woman was disabled and in a wheel chair, with similar hygiene, and a very frail body frame. I don't want to jump to conclusions or be inconsiderate, but it appeared as if they could have been homeless. Once their food came, I noticed them eating out of one bowl of pasta quickly, as if they have not eaten for a while. I wanted to ask if they wanted another bowl of pasta, and I would pay for it, but I didn't want to offend them by assuming they were homeless or needing another bowl. Part of me wanted to ask the staff and buy a bowl anonymously, but again, I didn't want to offend them.

At this point, I had to stop working on my school work and had to look away in tears. Emotions overcame me, and I realized how many situations like this I've seen here; how many times I've seen children holding their hands out begging for another apple as I leave the school I teach out, how many times I see a women and her baby come by our house begging for food, how many times I see the same people walking up and down the Main Road asking for money, how many children I have seen holding their hands out begging for money or beating on plastic buckets hoping that a passerby will give them some money for their entertainment, how many times I've seen people dig through trashcans, how many times I've seen young children walk through the crime-ridden streets of a township, and the list goes on.

What do you truly do in those situations? There's this stigma with people who are homeless that they will use that money for drugs and alcohol. Truthfully, how many of those people who are homeless used drugs and alcohol before they were homeless? Sure, there are some. However, many become homeless through unforeseen circumstances, like family issues, eviction, etc. Once they are on the streets, the homeless often turn to drugs and alcohol as a way to cope with their life, to 'get away' from reality even just for a few minutes. Once they are given money, they use that for more drugs and/or alcohol. It becomes a vicious cycle, because the money they initially needed for food etc. is used for drugs and alcohol. There have been studies on this that I have read, but I can't remember the names of the articles off the top of my head.

My friend and I have planned on making 'care packages' for the homeless, with essentials like granola bars, toilet paper, bottled water, hand sanitizer, etc. We were going to give them to the homeless who come by our house asking for food, but then thought about the fact that they will keep coming by to ask for more. So again, this leads to my question, what's the solution?

Sometimes I feel like studying abroad here has made me so angry at the world. I knew it would be different in South Africa, but I never expected to react with such emotions. But, I'm starting to accept the fact that being angry is not going to do anything. Rather, I have take these thoughts, emotions, and experiences and figure out how to change the world for the better. No one should ever have to live their lives like they are any less human than you and me.

A whole new world, a new point of view

Just a fair warning, this post contains a lot of ‘sensitive’ topics. I apologize if anything offends anyone, or if terms are not politically correct. This blog is used in a way to express my own individual feelings and observations.

A lot of people have been asking me what South Africa is like. On one extreme, people picture it as living in a 'mud hut' and the Hollywood-ized version of Africa with elephants and giraffes everywhere, while the other extreme is people comparing Cape Town to London. Cape Town does not fit either of these extremes. Below are some statistics from 2012 which may help to understand things:

• Total population of Cape Town: 3,740,025

• Percent unemployed: 23.8%

• Prevalence of HIV/AIDS: 19.1%

• Number of informal structures in informal settlements (i.e 'shacks' in townships): 129,918

• Percent of households living below the poverty line (<$11USD per day): 35.7%

Camps Bay (photo cred: Blue Waters restaurant)

This all being said, there are parts of Cape Town where the poverty line can definitely be seen, and other parts of Cape Town that almost seem like Miami. Cape Town has one of, if not the largest, gaps between the rich and the poor. One moment, you'll see shacks (see picture of Khayleitsha Township in Cape Town), and the next, you'll see beach homes that look like they could be owned by celebrities (see picture of Camps Bay in Cape Town). 

Khayelitsha (photo cred: The Guardian)

Some could explain that Cape Town's level of unequal wealth distribution represents a lack of freedom. In a reading for a course, I read that the lower class has a desire to be removed from the constrained realities of their lived experiences [and an] aspiration to be free." When I volunteered in Nyanga for Mandela day, one girl from South Africa explained that “there is a border between the nice life where the free people live, and where they aren’t free.” I connected this part of the reading to her statement, and began to think what really defines ‘freedom’. ‘Freedom’ is defined by the Oxford Dictionary as “the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants” and “the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved” South Africa celebrates Freedom Day on April 27, commemorating the end to Apartheid in 1994, but is South Africa really free?

The 'separate worlds' between the rich and the poor can be seen almost on a daily basis, and it’s made me beyond frustrated every time. In any major city, there are tourist traps. In Cape Town, these traps should just be called ‘middle-upper class white people traps’. From the first couple days here, we went to a mall. On the streets, it seemed similar to Broad Street in North Philadelphia (not exactly, but it’s the only thing I can compare it to). Once we got into the mall, we noticed fancy designer stores and the overall vibe of the place seemed different than the conditions outside. Looking around, I noticed most people were either white or colored, and looked as though they were middle or upper class. We also go to a market every Saturday, in which you have to walk through a pretty dodgy neighborhood to get there. I remember the first time going, I kept thinking “is this market safe?”. However, once we got into the brick barrier that separated the street from the market, it was like walking into a totally different world. I honestly did not see a single person who was not white, and it seemed like a very ‘hipster-ish’ environment that, again, only had middle or upper class people. Leaving the market, it’s like stepping back into a different world again, which homeless mothers and children waiting just outside the market begging for money. I mentioned my frustration to one of my friends, and he explained that “there are just some places that we [black people] know not to go to.”

This leads to my next observation and frustration. The racism here is still huge, even after two decades of the end of Apartheid. I’ve noticed in such little things, like on buses going to campus. If there are two seats open, one next to a white person and one next to a black person, the person who is looking for a seat will often choose the seat next to the person of color. In my first tutorial, I noticed that literally every white person sat on the left side of the room, and the black and colored people sat on the other side. Granted, I’m not sure if this is a coincidence, but I could not help but notice. I went to my friend’s soccer game over the weekend, and noticed his team was entirely black, and the other team was entirely white. After the game, I expressed how that upset me, and someone laughed and said, “Why would it bother you? That’s just the way Cape Town is.” But that’s not how it should be. I understand everyone has different cultural backgrounds, but that does not make us any less human or less capable of interacting with each other.

Being here has definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone, to say the least. That being said, I have learned more here in a month than I ever thought possible. My views of the world are constantly changing. At Arcadia, I took a class on racism. A required reading for this class was about white privilege (read it here). At University of Cape Town, one of my readings is the same article. I can’t even begin to explain how different my opinions are on that article after being here and truly noticing white privilege. 

Gugulethu is Our Pride

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to have a homestay at Gugulethu, a township outside of Cape Town. Gugulethu is a contaction of igugu lethu, which in Xhosa means 'our pride'. Gugulethu borders Nyanga (where I teach every Monday - see previous post). Like Nyanga, Gugulethu was established during Apartheid, where black South Africans were not permitted to live in Cape Town. In Gugulethu today,  98.6% of residents are Black African, and 88.6% speak Xhosa as their first language.

I left my house in Mowbray to board the bus to Gugulethu, and we drove outside of the city past townships to get to Gugulethu. While driving there, and even once we got there, I noticed many shacks. My pictures I have posted on Facebook do not truly show the true wealth gap of Cape Town, because few of my pictures show the many shacks that surround the city.

We arrived around 12pm, and all gathered in a house. The house was definitely one of the more wealthy homes in the area, but could be described as a lower-middle class home in the United States. Once we were all inside, a man introduced himself as Pastor Jack. He gave us a brief history of Gugulethu, and told us that he we would be taking us on a tour.

Soon, we gathered back on the bus to drive around Gugulethu. We stopped at an area with many shacks, and Pastor Jack explained that he wanted us to walk around this area to truly get a feel of what these people's lives are like. He told us that shacks had no running water, and there were water spouts every 100 meters that people could bring their buckets to to get water that they would use to drink, cook with, or bathe with. In addition, he explained that every five houses shared an outside toilet.

 As we walked around in the mud and trash, I was being cautious because my shoes were light colored, and I didn't want to get mud on them. This thought quickly left my mind, because I knew that for the people living here, that was the least of their worries. We got to a point where it was too muddy to walk through, so we had to turn around. I noticed many more shacks along the way where the mud got progressively worse, so I could not imagine having that be my home if we could not even manage to walk through it.

People gathered outside of their shacks to look at us, and many waved. I'm sure that 20+ white Americans walking through their community was different from their everyday life, and I almost felt guilty for doing so. However, as we were leaving, a woman came out of your shack repeatedly saying, "it's okay, it's okay". I stopped to try to understand she was saying, and she was explaining that we all came to see how they live their lives so we can understand, so everything will be okay. As I continued to walk, a young girl came up to me and smiled. She asked me if I was a mother, and after I told her no, she looked at me confused and asked what I was doing here. I told her I was visiting and that I am from the United States, and her eyes got really wide and she was amazed. She told me to enjoy my visit, as she ran away into the community. I couldn't help but wonder what life is like for children. They are born into this world to live in shacks, and don't know any better. As I've repeatedly mentioned, the life we live in the United States is taken for granted way too much. It's like we live in a bubble, and too many people are afraid to see the real world outside of it.

Once we arrived back at Pastor Jack's house, we enjoyed a huge meal with chicken, meatballs, beef, cooked spinach, mac n cheese (definitely the best I've ever had), two types of potatoes, steamed bread (which was amazing), mashed sweet potatoes, and vegetarian sausage. I'm not sure how they managed to cook for so many people, but the food was absolutely incredible and we were stuffed. I've noticed that the hospitality here is like that - no one will let you leave hungry.

Our next stop would be an orphanage in Nyanga. It was down an alleyway, and definitely did not seem big enough for an orphanage for 25+ children. When we got off the bus, a small child grabbed my hand as we walked into the house. The 'mother' of the orphanage explained that the children's ages varied from 2 years old to 20 years old. The 2 year old has been at the orphanage since he was 2 months old. She also explained that at age 20, they technically should let go of the children. However, one of the 20 year olds is at a local university. While the mother at the orphanage should let him go, she said that he has nothing and no where to go, so she's holding onto him.

We went outside to play with the children, as they ran up and down the road playing with balls and meeting new people in our group. One child came up to me, and I picked him up. I swung him around and bounced him up and down as he giggled. He didn't understand English, so I began to make a popping sound with my mouth to try to connect with him. He giggled again, and put his face close to mine to see what I was doing. He pulled his head back and made a popping noise. Soon, it was time to go, so I put him down, and he continued to make a popping noise with his mouth. I gave him a big hug as I began to walk away. I turned around and saw him look at me, and felt like I was just another person coming to visit that walked in and out of his life. A dream of mine is to adopt a child from Africa, and this definitely confirmed that this is what I want to do.

We arrived back at Pastor Jack's house and got ready to meet our host mothers. My group was 4 girls, and our mom's name was Loretta. Loretta was a 36 year old married woman with no children. She is attending University of Cape Town to get her masters in Social Work, and she works for South Africa's Home Affairs. She definitely has the most bubbly personality!

We were going to a wedding that night, so once she arrived and we met her, we quickly changed into dresses and left. Zizi, a friend of Loretta, drove us to the wedding. She explained that this wedding was more of a white wedding and more westernized, but there would still be traditional twists. There are several parts to a traditional wedding in South Africa. One part happened the night before, where the groom went over to the bride's side of the family with 'gifts' begging to be let in. Zizi said that the groom typically brings alcohol, and last night he had to fill a scarf with money before being let in. The next day, the ceremony takes place, then they go to the gardens for pictures, followed by a reception (which we were going to).

We arrived at a community hall closer to Cape Town around 4. Outside, people were 'pregaming' the wedding by drinking beer and wine.  Once we got inside, it seemed like a typical wedding venue. Once the wedding party entered, the dress was similar to US weddings. However, once the service started, there were unique differences. Each speech was spoken in Xhosa, so it was hard to understand what everyone was saying, but in between speeches there was a 'dance break' and people would begin singing and dancing. The energy was amazing, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

At one point, Loretta introduced us as "visitors from the United States who wanted to share the bride and groom's special day". Everyone immediately turned to look to us, because we were the only White people there, and began taking many pictures. After the speeches were over, the bride and groom eagerly invited us to take pictures with them. The groom endlessly thanked us for being there, saying he would have never imagined having people attend his wedding from overseas.

A big difference at this wedding was the lack of a dance floor, bright lights, fog machines, and all that jazz. The lights stayed on as people danced around tables, which I liked a lot more - it felt more personal. Everyone quickly swept us up into their arms and invited us to dance with them. The sense of community at that wedding was outstanding.

At about 11pm, we left the wedding to drive back to Loretta's home. Once we got there, we noticed loud music coming from the braai (BBQ) next door. She explained that this happens every weekend until 3am, and she's use to it by now, but said it's one of the downfalls in living in a township. Loretta lived in a cute house, which was a permanent establishment rather than a shack. She told us to slept on her bed, and she would sleep on the couch. As much as we told her no, she insisted us to. We chatted for a bit, and got to phone her husband who was at a church conference. Soon, it was past midnight and we headed to bed. Before bed, Loretta asked if we were hungry about three times - again that sense of hospitality showed. I had a hard time falling asleep because of the music outside, but eventually did.

In the morning, Loretta had a full breakfast made for us - tortillas, chicken, salad, oats, cereal, hard-boiled eggs, juice and coffee. We left at about nine to go to church, but unfortunately Loretta couldn't attend. She was attending another ceremony for the wedding. This time, it was for the bride to go to the groom's side of the family. The bride would have to cook, clean, and do dishes to get 'accepted' into the groom's side of the family. Loretta expressed her hatred for that tradition because it oppressed women.

We arrived at church at about 9:15am, and sat in on a leadership session where church leaders talked about issues in the community. Again, the meeting was in Xhosa, but the Pastor explained to us that they were talking about Women's Month, which is in August. Women's Month is a big deal here, where they specifically focus on issues women face in the community. In addition, they allow a women to lead every service this month, which I thought was incredible.

Similar to the wedding, the church service was filled with lots of singing and dancing. Even though we were tired from the night before, we could not help but smile from the energy throughout the room.

After church, we headed to Mzolis, a popular braai in Nyanga. The place was outdoors under a tent, with long tables and plastic chairs. It had a very musky smell, and was very dark inside. It was packed, as it usually is on a Sunday. There was loud music playing, and people brought their own alcohol to drink. Soon, meat was delivered to our own table - huge tubs full of chicken, sausage, and steak (I think?). Unfortunately, I did not feel well at all and had stomach pains and heat flashes worse than I have ever felt before. Sadly, I ended up having to sit on the bus and was in so much pain that I laid in the aisle of the bus until everyone came back on the bus to leave 2 hours later. I'm sad I didn't get to make the most out of that experience, but I know the rest of the weekend was absolutely incredible and an amazing learning experience.

I know this is a super long blog, so thank you for reading it all! Xoxo