For our final projects this semester we were assigned to do an integrative project that would encompass the things we’ve learned in the past few months. Some of us chose to do games, some made videos, and others used a straw building activity as a metaphor for building a nation. I was impressed with how creative our group was, at the amount of information we have really absorbed, and the critical thinking skills we’ve developed. I found one student’s project particularly inspiring and wanted to share it. This person is from South Sudan so he has an unique perspective and being from the new youngest independent country in the world he wanted to draw parallels between their struggle to build a nation and the second youngest, Namibia’s struggle. I think this letter will give you a good idea of the obstacles Namibia has encountered in the past few decades and the things we’ve been taking an in depth look at on this trip. As we have, I am sure you can see these themes in the struggles for equality in many nations, including our own. Here is his letter to Namibia, if he were South Sudan:

An Open Letter from Sud to my friend Namib.

Dear Namib,

It has been an absolute pleasure and joy to see you during the past 3 months. I’ve enjoyed visiting your many national historical sites, game parks, and conservancies. I’ve enjoyed our days filled exploring topics in religion, politics, history, and even our occasional outings to meet and greet speakers in order to expand our knowledge. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed learning about and practicing yoga while here. Although all of these events brought me great joy, there were some things which disturbed, confused, and even shocked me.

I saw you turn away children and shut down schools in the north, I even saw you care more about money then education, when u stopped university and secondary age children from taking exams and getting results due to lack of school fees. I saw children born out of the struggle in exile suffering and carried away from the lawn of the national assembly as they tried to voice their concern, I saw you harass and intimidate locals into doing what you wanted. A random guy on the streets even stopped to tell me he was unhappy with the failure of the high court to decide on their election petition to the Supreme Court in a timely manner. That’s not even the worse one of the guys told me a few years after you moved out from under your parents roof, you subject our friends and families to torture and death while in exile in Angola, and to this day you still have not confessed or owned up to it.

What is going on Namib, as your friend I am very concerned.

I’ve even heard some people have tried to summon you to the ICC department of Human services. Don’t you remember that’s the same department which ruled your parent’s treatment and occupation illegal?

A U.N. Rapporteur on the rights of Indigenous people named James Anaya even pointed out that all of the indigenous groups he has met with continue to suffer injustices as they have not seen the promises and benefits, which independence from your parents promised.

I know our upbringing was not the best, but it is no excuse for the neglect oppression, and injustices which I have seen while here.

Do I need to remind you about the hardship, discrimination, and oppression which we endured under our parents roofs? The blood sweat, and tears shed to realize our freedom. Do I need to remind you of the unequal treatment, subjection to unfair labor, housing, and opportunity your parents afforded you? How they made you feel dumb, inferior, and told you, you had no history, and that keeping you apart from the others was for your own good and how they made you carry your I.D. card in certain parts of the house.

I know you remember these terrible times.

I was under my parents roof for much longer, and in that time we did not talk as much. But I know you heard about the persecution and oppression which I received from my parents. How they tried to force their religion, values, and way of life down my throat. The worst of which was heard around the world when they killed, tortured and maimed our friends in Darfur. I don’t know if you heard but during that 50 year struggle under my parents’ roof, I really started to have internal struggles with myself. I struggled about whether to liberate everyone from my parent’s oppression, or just get myself out from under their roof. This dilemma really ate at me, and when I wasn’t actively resisting my parents, I broke out in internal strife and all out chaos within myself almost to the point of self-destruction.

We were so Strong back then Namib, I remember you marched and boycotted, demanding to get out from under your parents. Do you remember hector Peterson, Steven Biko, and the many students and friends whom died fighting and demanding your release? I do! Do you remember when our friend Luther who finally had enough, and took a stance against your parents, oh how he condemned their actions, after our friends in the I.C.C. department gave their verdict?

We had lots of friends and family who helped us to survive and endure those long and trying years under our parent’s roofs.

In your absence Uncle Tom and his many friends really stepped up and helped me endure my internal struggles and my resistance against my parents. Uncle Tom played a very vital role in bring about a comprehensive peace agreement in 2005. His friends Amnesty, UNHCR, and I.R.C provided me with and still continue to provide me with vital services including healthcare, child survival programs, education, and sexual violence aid and prevention projects. When I visited Uncle Tom in 2006, he gave me a Black cow boy hat, which I never take off or go anywhere without, as a sign of my gratitude and appreciation for all of his support.

Please remember the long hard road we traversed in order to get where we are today.

Do you not remember the promises we made to each other about how we wanted to live our lives once we were out from under our parents. How we wanted to live them through respect, understanding, and acceptance of all people regardless of race, religion, Ethnicity, tribal affiliation, or sexual orientation. And how we vowed to never turnout like our parents.

We even wrote it out in our supreme plans, oh how brilliant our supreme plans were. I can remember yours boosted by many people as one of the most inclusively liberal plans on earth. Especially with your clause pertaining to or should I say lack thereof a death penalty. Oh how our plans looked so spotless to the many onlookers. I know my plan is only an interim one due to my recent emancipation only a year and half ago from my parents, but I’m still quite proud of it. I’ve made sure to include our respect principles especially pertaining to religious practices.

I never want anyone to experience the turmoil I went through, the 2 million friends dead and the 4 million displaced in that long 50 year resistance against my parents.

I’m Sorry to labor on for so long old friend, but this letter is also helping me to remember and come back to those plans we created in the days of struggle. Writing this has forced me to really take a critical look inward, and sorry to say I’ve been a hypocrite.

If you were to come visit me you would not only see a lack of respect for freedom of speech, but sever mal treatment and torcher of those who openly oppose. Our brother Mr. Deng Athuai, chairman of the South Sudan Civil Society Alliance, was abducted and beaten a year into my independence, because he openly spoke out and criticized government officials on corruption. That’s not even the worse, I thought I was finished beating myself up when I got out from under my parents. But recently new problems have arisen, and they almost take me back to the brink of self-destruction within myself. Even though I’m only a year and half out, I have not made sufficient plans to meet the needs of my people.

I have not taken the initiative to put education first so everyone can learn about and hold the supreme plan as the rule of law.

Please give the teachers I have seen striking a raise, so they may effectively teach all of the children about our supreme plans, and thus hold us accountable to our plans, so they may speak out and let us know when we have strayed without fear and so that they will know their actions and participation and criticisms are grounded in our supreme plans which rule the land.

So Sorry for the short notice and having to communication via letter, I wish I had the time to say farewell face to face, but I got an urgent call this morning to return and start the development process ASAP. There’s roads, hospitals, and schools to be built. Writing this letter has put me back in my right state of mind.

I felt like I had to say something or as our main man Lupe would say. It would have been so loud inside my head, with the words I never said. I will thoroughly miss the great food, conversations, and friends at the center for global education not to mention the many friends from basketball, Wadadee and our times at Kapana Soul Sessions.

Once again you’ve opened my eyes to so many new perspectives and possibilities.

But please keep in mind our past, I know we can’t do anything about it, but we can do something about the future that we have.

Sincerely your friend,
SUD

Namibian artist Shishani recently released a new music video about the beautiful city of Windhoek. Inspired by Alicia Keys and Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind,” the video gives a glimpse into the cultural diversity and beautiful landscape surrounding Namibia’s capital. Check it out to get an idea about where I’ve gotten to stay this semester.

Sishani “Windhoek”

So throughout my trip I’ve blogged about the places we go, museums and historical sights we get to visit, and all the speakers we hear from, but I realized I never really talk about the biggest reason this program is so wonderful—the Center for Global Education staff!  The people that work at this school have made this an incredible trip for me and the other students.  They have served as mentors, stand-in parents, and friends to all of us. Not only do I learn so much from them, but they continue to brighten my day whenever I see one of them.  I’m not sure how you find people like the one’s CGE has hired, but I thought it was time I introduced you to them so you can get to know the wonderful people I am spending my semester with.

Passat and Romanus

First let’s talk about how we get to all these awesome places.  Passat has been the nick name given to the superhuman that drives us to all of our internships, homestays and trips around Namibia.  He is even driving 16 hours to Cape Town (while we fly) so that we can get around while there.  Nothing keeps Passat from getting to our destination—whether it’s blown tires, closed roads, or wildlife.  While in the car, he’s always singing along to either 90s RnB or some traditional music that has really grown on us.  I have even caught him hands in the air belting out a lyric when most of us are asleep.   I have to say that some of my favorite moments are just driving in the van. He is also the handy man around our house and can fix everything. I also realized, after hearing him speak to different staff members, people in the north, and our rural homestay families that he knows six different languages.  In general he just knows so much and shakes his head and giggles at us when we don’t listen to him.

Next, our professors.  I don’t get to interact with Romanus, the history professor, but he’s definitely loved by the students.  One student said, “If we gave out superlatives for the staff, he would be named coolest.”  We got to attend his wedding early in the semester and from being with him in Swakopmund, I can tell he’s a laid back guy with a great sense of humor.  Everyone in the house raves about the history class and I’m a little regretful that I didn’t take it, however, what I took in place of that class has made it worth it.  Instead of taking one of the classes offered here at CGE, I decided on an independent study and my advisor, Nespect, has been absolutely incredible to work with.  He is the travel seminar and internship coordinator also, so we get to spend time with him in class and also for our first week in Johannesburg.  Nespect is always enthusiastic and my favorite thing is that he always greets us with, “Hello Friends!”

Last of the professors, is our development and yoga professor.  Students say this countless times and I really think it’s the only  to describe her, “Linda is Awesome.”  For me she has not only been a fantastic professor who makes me think critically and challenges me to look at the many sides of development issues, but she has also been a great role model.  Instead of rambling about great things she has taught me, I will just share her cheesy but meaningful conclusion of our development class that made me hopeful instead of cynical—she shared with us that, to her, development boils down to love.  We need love one another, love people on the other side of the world that we maybe don’t know, and love them more than our material possessions.  More importantly, she pointed out that love isn’t this passive, wimpy thing that many think of, but one of the most powerful tools in the world.  Its statements like these that make me admire her and hope that throughout my career I can keep the same passion and optimism.

Sara and I

Evolyn and Janobe are cooks in our house and I honestly don’t how I will eat after this, because they make such delicious meals, with freshly baked bread, and incredible desserts—it’s no wonder all of our shorts are a little tighter.  I am always amazed at how creative they are and how they do such a great job at planning.  We have never once had the same meal and they’ve adapted to all our weird dietary requests.  They’re even been cooking without an oven for the past two months.  Talk about incredible!

Lastly, Sara, she is one of the cooks at the house, but she also coordinates our homestays and she traveled to Khorixas with us, which was really great because she’s from this area.  We got to visit the high school she graduated from and she knew so much about the people in this area.  It always puts a smile on my face to see Sara—she is always bubbly and enthusiastic and it just isn’t possible to be unhappy if you’re around her

The staff overall genuinely cares about the students on this trip.  We’re often impressed with how much time they invest in getting to know us and finding out how we are daily.  I admire that they value education so much and that they go out of their way (undoubtedly more than we know) to make sure students have the most incredible experience.   It’s  going to be really hard to leave all the incredible people here, but I am so excited for the next group of students to spend an awesome four months with them!

To get a tour of the house and introductions to everyone, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUa8QgBHkP0

“Decolonizing the Mind.”  When I received the program manual with this phrase on the front I thought I had an idea of what this meant and what I would be studying during my semester abroad, but after my rural homestay I have truly been pushed to breakdown my previous conceptions and challenge the ways I once classified people.

It was hard to acknowledge that before my rural homestay I had equated rural with poverty.   I had taken a look at all the material things I have and judged households against this standard.  By creating this category of “have”, my mind consequently narrowed in on what others did not have. So, admittedly, driving past farms, tin shacks, and mud huts there was a sympathetic wrenching in my stomach. At one point I considered volunteering in such communities, but I worried about my limitations or the negative effects of my “aid”.  My first step toward reconciling these thoughts was to learn about “impoverished” communities.

My week on the Inhoek farm in Khorixas abolished all my previous conceptions and reasoning for wanting to learn from this rural community. From the first moment I stepped out of the CGE van, I began to look at this community for everything that they have, not for what they do not.  Those things that I might have thought were lacking before had now dissipated and I began to admire their wealth of immaterial things. I even wondered if the absence of physical possessions that I saw was the reason for their strong sense of community, lively nature, and conservation of resources.

My host family lives in a small, two-room, cow dung hut that sits on a farm with several other families.  The farm has no electricity, nor sewage, and a water trough that you carry water from and it is shared by the animals making the water unsafe at times.  I imagine that for my host family there is a shortage of food, when me and my box of food aren’t staying with them, so there is a physical reality of problems that my family is facing and I don’t doubt that, if asked, there may be aspects they want to improve.  However, these were never the focus of my thoughts while I was there and I didn’t worry about my host family because of the support the received from their neighbors.

Throughout the week, I never ate a meal with only my host family.  I found myself at the neighbor’s house or children from the community at our home sharing what we had.  Many of the families on our farm, who were more well off and had houses in the city, had goat and kudu meat that they contributed, while my mother would cook and share her fatcakes.  It seemed that whatever you had, you shared.  This unspoken expectation was incredible to me because even the families with little would divide up their food for the number of children that wondered over to their house.  Fellow CGE students would mention that they would leave their house with one child and return with four, that they would then share dinner and the children would stay for the evening.

The fluidity of the community was another aspect I came to appreciate.  Not only did I find myself with neighbors for dinner, but at every time of the day I was at a different house with different people.  I was weird to me that I felt completely comfortable walking right in and felt welcome at any house on the farm even if they hadn’t met me yet.   With the grannies that I couldn’t communicate well with, I was still always greeted and invited to sit and have some food or a drink.  Even people who drove onto the farm to visit would stop their cars, talk to us and tell us to please enjoy our time.   And this wasn’t just their fantastic hospitality, members of their community treated each other this way too.  While my host father was gone, teenage boys were always at my house helping my mother with whatever she needed—they were especially great with my one year old little brother.  Likewise, my mother frequently visited her neighbors each day to see if they needed help or just to offer some company.

At night we gathered together for conversation, games, singing and dancing and during the day we found even more to do.  It is amazing what fun you can have when you don’t have a television to rely on.  We hiked the mountains as a big family to watch the sunset, rode horses and chased the goats, played games, made our own swimming pool to take a break from the heat, and even pulled all our beds together and slept under the stars. There was never a moment that I wasn’t the happiest I have ever been. People worked very hard on the farm, but they played hard too. Throughout everything they seemed carefree, despite problems they could have been facing.  My favorite memory is everyone singing a song in Damara entitled, “!Gâi tsedi Iguidi” meaning “Good Days Only,” and I feel this embodies their outlook and attitudes.  Everyone got up and danced around, clapping and singing loud and everyone was really connected.

I truly admired them for this and for so many other things.  Their values impressed me and their creativity inspired me.  They somehow found the strength to forgive after every despicable thing they have been put through and focused on treating each other and guests with love and respect, regardless of who they are.  Children on these farms built incredible toys and adults fashioned all kinds of tools out of recycled products and minimal resources.  They use what they needed and didn’t waste and living here for a week makes me realize the obscene amount of things that I consume needlessly.  With everything, I felt they were living a life that was kind to others and didn’t infringe on their way of life and a life that didn’t use more than their portion of this world.  If looking at things like this, they are helping others more than anyone could ever help them and I thank them.

When I step back and look at their community I am in awe.  I also realize that the industrialization that the Namibian government talks about or the international aid that countries offer could be detrimental to this.  Before people go in and begin giving what they think these people need, one should think deeply about how it will change them.  My advice is that we begin living lifestyles that are kind and don’t harm others, instead of trying to counteract that by then fixing them or sending what we think they need. Consider the reasoning behind the need for aid.  More importantly, before pinpointing every “need,” take a step back and take in all there is to gain from places different from our own.  I truly believe a better service to society would be appreciating communities like the one I stayed in, releasing our judgements and absorbing the lessons they can teach us.

One of the host fathers shared how much he appreciated us coming to his farm and learning about his family. This left me speechless because I could never begin to describe everything I have gained from spending just one week with them.

Throughout my time in Southern Africa there has been one food that I have been fed everywhere I go—fat cakes!  These little balls of fried dough were served at my homestay in Johannesburg for breakfast with dried fish, minced meat and cheese.  I’ve had them multiple times at our house in Windhoek as they are Sara’s (the house’s head cook) favorite food and you can find them at any market or street vendor around Namibia.  Now, after learning how to make them with my host mother in Khorixas, I am so excited to share the recipe with you—here’s how to make them at home:

Ingredients:

6 cups cake flour, 1tbs salt, 10 gram instant yeast, 1 cup sugar, 1tbs vinegar, 3 1/2 cups water, Oil for frying

Makes 20-25 fat cakes

Directions:

First, mix flour, yeast, salt, and sugar together.  Then, mix vinegar into water and pour over the dry ingredients.  Using a wooden spoon, mix these into a soft dough and be sure to mix well so that there are no lumps (Add water as needed).

Cover dough and leave in a warm place until  it doubles in size.

Finally, fry them up! Heat the oil in a heavy base sauce pan.  Dip a large spoon into the oil then use it to take spoonfuls of the risen dough from the bowl (or you can form them by hand like I did at my home stay).  The balls are normally about the size of a plum, but could be smaller or larger depending on your preference.  Drop these spoonfuls of dough into the hot oil and fry until the fat cakes are a nice brown color on one side and then flip them over.

You can roll these in cinnamon and sugar—one of the group favorites—or eat them with peanut butter like the kids on the farm I visited liked.  They are good for breakfast, lunch, or dinner and definitely dessert!

Sara and my resident advisory, Janessa, recorded some videos cooking these and you can check them out at the CGE website: http://cgesouthernafrica.blogspot.com/

We were lucky enough to travel to the north a few weeks ago to attend the wedding of one of our professor’s.  We’ve been told that nearly 50% of Namibians are from “the North” which tends to mean anything about Windhoek (which is actually in the middle of Namibia).  Regardless, nearly every one I talk to says this is where they’re from so I was extremely excited to see this notorious place!

After months of seeking approval from relatives, Romanus, our professor, and his fiancé, Katarina were finally getting married in the city of Ongwediva.  So we made the 10 hour trip through the country (which was really nice) and we stayed at the Rural Development Centre where we got to see some of the new technologies they’re working on to help farmers and improve sanitation.

The wedding was comprised of a traditional Christian service and hints of tribal rituals. The bride wore the big white dress and veil, there were bridesmaids and groomsmen, and they went through a typical Catholic ceremony with church service following.  Thought it was entirely in Oshiwambo, I still picked up on many aspects, like recognizing the tune to “Praise the Lord.”

The most exciting part was that you got to relive the reception the very next night, because there are two! They were in Okatana and Onampira , one in the grooms home village and the other in the brides.  At each there were a couple of different rituals, but one that seemed like a lot of fun to me was the giving of gifts.  Everyone got in a line and danced and shouted in excitement on their way to the bride and groom.  After these ended,  we had lots of food, even cow intestine, and on the second night had a blast dancing with a group of kids, but it was strange to us that not many people danced at these receptions and the DJ ended soon after dinner.

We also spent time at the local trade fair, which was a lot like many of the local fairs we students are used to. There were vendors from all over Namibia selling tractors, handmade goods, and other accessories, lots of food, booths for government departments and also university advertisers. So we bought a few of our favorite pieces and had lunch. “Black and Yellow” came on while we were eating and the Pittsburgher in me got really excited.

I noticed here and in many parts of the north that people are curious about our being here and often stare. For the most part if you smile and wave it’s received fairly well, but a few times people just continued to stare and I had to brush it off. I also had to realize that white people were really uncommon in this area and I can imagine that people who are “different” in the United States are also stared at—it’s humbling to be on the other side some times and I think throughout this trip I might need to get used to it.

Finally, we headed to Etosha National Park! It’s a fenced in park where animals roam and within it there are places where people can camp. The park is almost 9,000 square miles and includes elephants, rhinos, giraffes, zebras, lions, springbok, kudus, so many types of birds, and many other animals. The first evening we arrived in a camping ground called Halali and had a braai (barbecue). There was something really homey about a being with the group, taking the time to prepare the food and then roasting marshmallows for smores (using the can opener as your stick). Overall being at the park was comforting.

We slept at another park called Okaukeujo the second night. A few of us went swimming and in the evening relaxed by a waterhole where you could watch the animals. This was definitely my favorite part and I think the pictures will do a much better job of describing how amazing this place is. This park had a nice restaurant where we tried some Kudu and lamb, which some of us were a little turned off by after having watched Kudu a few hours before.

After one last game drive and some final views of the animals, we headed back to Windhoek to start our classes for the semester.

My first thought was, Wow!  Namibia is beautiful!  It’s dry here, and was technically still winter when we first arrived, but the shades of grey and brown were surprisingly very pretty. On the drive to Windhoek, there were mountains in the distance, different types of trees everywhere, and we were out in the country so the sky was open and a gorgeous blue. The windy roads reminded me of home and it felt so nice to relax and stare out the window.

When we got to the house, things got even better. The house is really big for our small group of eight, but having the space is nice. There’s a pool, barbecue, and balcony outside.  The neighborhood is nice and view is decent.  There’s a lot of bushes and trees that have been blooming as we transition into summer and you can see the mountains far behind the houses.  It’s within walking distance of downtown and we have already done some exploring. There are a lot of great cafes, restaurants, and craft markets. I ate at a German cultural center and it was delicious, then, met up with some other group members who were having Nutella crepes! We checked out some art studios, theaters  parks and local malls too. There’s a backpackers hostile right across the street with a bar, pool, and fast internet (its best selling point). We met some fun locals there and I think it’s going to be a regular hang out of ours.

One of our professors, Linda Raven, gave us an broad tour of Windhoek and described its subdivisions to us.  It’s directly comparable to Johannesburg and Soweto—there are clearly areas that are mostly wealthy whites and poor areas that are entirely black, specifically a township called Katutura.

We were shown around this by a group of students our age (The Young Achievers) that run a program called the Kasie Tours. The group is awesome. It is solely student run and they aim to empower youth through setting educational and professional goals. They have several branches around Namibia, set up conferences, have done international visits, and even show around U.S. senators and ambassadors. All of this is organized, funded, and implemented by student volunteers—it’s amazing!  They took different students to an art studio, a local church, and a radio station.  We also hit up the local market for some kapana, meat that’s butchered and grilled as you order it.

There is still so much to see but I think it is going to be quite easy to call this place home for the next couple months.

For our last day in Jo’burg we took a tour of Constitution Hill, a historical landmark remembering the horrific injustices that took place at the Old Fort Prison Complex.  Today, it is home to the Constitutional Court and stands as a symbol of South Africa’s freedom.  We then visited representatives from the Treatment Action Campaign (an HIV/AIDS foundation) and finally went to a semi-private school in Soweto, which was by far my favorite part of the day.

First, we were taken around to each classroom in small groups and were allowed in exchange our questions and thoughts with the students.  They asked a lot of questions to me individually, which made me a little giddy, but even more exciting was that they had an interest in mathematics!  They wanted to know what I studied and why I chose that concentration.  A young girl even asked my advice when doing math problems.  She has hopes of attending an ivy league school in the United States one day and was really an inspiration.  Not only did she take top classes at school, but studied additional chemistry and mathematics at home and took weekend classes.

Being at the school we got a small insight into the perspective of the United States.  This is something I particularly love about children or teenagers—they have no reservations about being honest with you.  When asked what they thought when they hearing the U.S., the response unanimously was “money” and even “money and booze” once.  Many students thought we saw Nicki Minaj from day-to-day and I was asked if I had met Kate Gosselin from the reality show John and Kate plus 8 (because she’s from Pennsylvania).  They also shared many U.S. tourist stereotypes, but I assured them that I did not think they were jungle people.

This concluded our stay in Johannesburg and I had so many thoughts whirling around in my head.  That week was jam packed and I’d learned so much.  It challenged me to think about the many similarities in the United States that I previously hadn’t given much attention, sadly.  I’m a little embarrassed to say this, but specifically I’m thinking about Native Americans.  After these experiences, I began to think about it more and more deeply.  Before, it was merely just a passing sympathetic thought about the past and in reality there are still many prevalent issues, but I have had the privilege to ignore these.  I am looking at reservations and what we did to the first people of our land with new acknowledgement and wish I would have been better educated in the past by my history teachers and by my own pursuits.

This has also made me think about what we learn in the United States, both formally in education systems and informally.  The apartheid is openly talked about here.  It is in their museums, addressed in politics, and most importantly the people that I have come in contact with are aware, not just of its happening but of what it caused and how that affects today.  The government has done a lot to educate people about the past, but also help them reconcile with it.  There are many who have yet to reap the benefits of South Africa’s independence and are still very much living under the same conditions they did in the apartheid, but I still believe some of these efforts have the right idea when it comes to giving victims closure and maybe even reparation—but I don’t think you can ever make the situation “right”.

Sala Gutile

Dumelang!

This is a Sotho greeting that I learned from my urban homestay in Johannesburg!  I spent only three days with my host family, but it was a fantastic experience and nice to be in the comfort of a family even if they weren’t my own.

When we got to our home in Ormonde our host-mother, Nthabiseng, along with some neighbors were outside to greet us.  It didn’t take long to get in the house, begin our first meal (lamb and rice Mmmm) and jump into conversation.  Our mother was open and invited our questions immediately.  She was also really interested in our stories and culture, asking questions about previous things she had heard and images from television.  She works in school administration and her husband, Sifiso, at the Hilton in Sandton (a very wealthy area that we visited later that weekend).  They live in a small, one floor, gated house like all of the other people in that neighborhood.  The house reminded me a little of my home and their family has two Volkswagens just like mine—a “South African Polo Blue” as their little three year old boy (Sandile) likes to call it.

The father had to leave the first evening to help with the funeral of his cousin, which we learned are slightly different from funerals in the United States, much larger.  People from all over come in support of the family, even if they are only acquaintances and after large meals take place at a relative’s house, but are never catered.  Neighbors and friends pitch in and cook enough for everyone to eat and this is a lot of food when you are feeding hundreds.  They also have ceremonies called tombstones three or four years later and like the funerals they are much more uplifting than the funerals I know.  It is a celebration of that person’s life. For the celebration people purchase new, very formal, clothing and even paint their houses sometimes as rejuvenation.

The funeral practice seemed to transcend tribes, but throughout the homestay I found that there were some things that didn’t and distinct differences between tribes.  The relationship between our host mother and father was interesting because of their different backgrounds, the mother being Sotho and the father Zulu.  The mother ultimately adopted most Zulu traditions including the clothing and wedding ceremony, but still speaks her mother language and has taught it to her children.  The children are incredibly smart.  They know three languages fluently: Sotho, Zulu, and English and study Afrikaans in school, but more impressively they toggle back and forth between these languages depending on the person they are talking to.

I found this is common among people here, the switching between languages (there are eleven official languages).  It’s really amazing and they seem to do it with ease.  We had a host-sister in the house and she taught us some basic terms and patiently went over the pronunciations and spellings with us repeatedly.  Some of the languages have “clicks” or snaps with your tongue and I found it very difficult.  It was easy to connect with her though—she was excited about having students from the United States in her home, was a fan of the same music that we like, and broke the ice by taking funny pictures with us on her phone.

On our second day there we visited an old age home in Soweto that the mother goes to on weekends.  We helped out with the dishes and got to join in on a Bible study with a couple of the women that lived there.  They gave us their advice for life and were happy we were here to study.  We also went to church on Sunday and this had to be one of the best experiences ever!  It was so lively, even though my host-mother claimed it was boring compared to her usual service. (I can’t imagine how exciting her Catholic church must be.)  The service was entirely in a tribal language so I couldn’t understand anything, but I felt connected with the people.  They included us and encouraged us to get up and dance.  While watching them, I felt like I was surrounded by a strong community, people who enjoyed being there on Sunday morning with others they loved.  Each person would lead the congregation in a song (with loud and really beautiful voices) and then as everyone else chimed in they would stand and dance and smack the Bible for a beat.  A smile was plastered on my face.  We even danced our way to the alter to leave our donation—absolutely a euphoric moment.

Besides these outings, we watched a lot of TV during the day and even through meals—soap operas or “sopes” are extremely popular here, both American and South African shows.  They also watch some American football on the sports channels, South African Idol, and Madea’s Family, which I told my host-family that my brother and sister also love this movie.  It is women’s month here right now so there were tributes to women on the radio and TV with traditional dances and singers too.

We broke this time up with conversations about the miners’ strike that happened in August and about the chief in Swaziland that has 20-30 wives, and I learned more from our host-mother about the characteristics of a “Soweto woman” which she was.  She told us that Soweto girls are not passive and polite like rural women, but liked their short skirts, wild nights and had attitudes.  Our mother liked to joke with us and tell us stories about her trips to Durban with friends where they would say, “the women have grown up to drink like their fathers and the men have grown up to cook like their mothers,” pointing out that their husbands were more home-bodies.

She also shared with us some family stories, like their visits to the zoo, things the kids like to do, and their belief in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, so I asked if she also had to play tooth fairy every so often.  Yes, she still slipped money to her children for their tooth, but into their shoe instead of under their pillow.  In households here you put your tooth in your shoe.  During the night a little mouse comes and take your tooth, in its place he leaves money, and then he throws it on top of the roof.  While on the roof your tooth grows until he brings it back to your mouth (as your adult tooth).  I may consider telling children this version instead—I liked it.

We talked about going to Kliptown (the township where I felt like an intruder earlier that week) but I felt very comfortable now.  The idea of going to grab some produce from a stand there or the sheep intestines she wanted to cook didn’t bother me at all, but I did ask her how people living in that community feel about tourist that come and stare at them.  Her opinion was that they would be very excited to have us. She said many would even like to have white students stay in their house so that they feel special and respected within the community.

I am baffled by this phenomenon, this elevating of white people and people from the United States.  I asked our guide, Nespect, about it and he explained a couple of different reasons, one being that white people are the ones with power and people here (and I’ve noticed other parts of the world) that in order to get closer to that power they must get closer to white people.  He also encouraged me to continue asking people that I meet about things like this.  Regardless if this confuses me, my experience in the neighborhoods that we have been in, is that people are unbelievably welcoming—they smile and hug you, say they are happy to see new faces, and ask you if you are eating well (they really like to feed their guests…really).

The first morning in our home we went and got Amugwinya “fat cakes” and they have been given this name for a reason.  It is a fried dough served with thick slices of a meat (sort of like pepperoni) and dried fish that is heavily salted.  The fish tasted like the smelts my family has at Christmas time.  We were offered pies too, but these aren’t sweet pies, they are flaky crusts filled with meat inside.  Then, for lunch we had a Kota.  This sandwich puts Wendy’s baconator to despicable shame.  It is a tower of four slices of bread, with layers of cheese, avocado, bacon, a burger in between and “chip dip” a creamy sauce like thousand island dressing.  This also comes with a not-so-modest side of “chips” which are really thick french fries.  After this, I had had enough food for the entire week, but we still hadn’t eaten dinner.  For dinner that night we had lasagna, but it wasn’t my Grandma T’s.  Though nothing can beat that, this came really close.  It was layers of flat sheets of noodles (unlike the crimped ones we use) a spicy sausage, cream sauce, and then sweat and sour sauce on top.  All three of the sauces were homemade and it was delicious.  There were also dozens of homemade cookies for dessert, but it took me a couple days before I could even try one because the meals were so large.

So we sat around the television, wandered around some places in town, and ate… a lot.  I got to go through their normal routines and it felt good to be around those familiar things in this unfamiliar place.  Overall, the weekend was wonderful and I feel so lucky to have been a part of their family for a very short time.

Salang Hantle

Though toward the end of our first week in Johannesburg we were a little exhausted from touring and visiting museums, the Apartheid Museum kept strong hold of my attention.  The images I saw were astounding, heart-wrenching and inspiring at the same time. Combined at the Apartheid Museum was a tribute to Nelson Mandela and a walk through the history of South Africa, its journey toward democracy and its aspirations as a country. There were art exhibits, video clips of Nelson Mandela’s fight against aids, South Africa winning the world cup, and the day that Nelson Mandela was released from prison, along with remarkable stories of triumph and also of devastation. The walk through this museum was a roller-coaster of emotions and it began when you received a ticket that labeled you either Blankes or Non-Blankes (white or non-white). The moment you passed through your designated gate you were in awe.
Learning about life under the apartheid is hard to stomach in general, but one exhibit in particular left me numb. I turned into a room of nooses hanging from the ceiling. As you can imagine, this stunned me. I began reading about the people who were executed because of their opposition to the government—131 in total. There were personal stories about a few men and records of others. Many exhibits and stories left me just as emotional, but I turned around and there was a picture of where these men were hung and you could see how the floor was dropped from beneath them. I was truly overwhelmed.

Once you found a way to move past this exhibit, you were uplifted by the displays that follow. You learned about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, led by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, which promoted forgiveness among victims and their perpetrators through disclosing truths about the apartheid. Really, it is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen established.

Finally, there was a wall of quotations of Nelson Mandela that were written in different colors. You chose your favorite one and placed a reed of the same color along a walkway. I’ll leave you with the ones I chose:

“The first thing is to be honest with yourself. You can never have an impact on society if you have not changed yourself.”

“Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity. It is a protection of a fundamental human right, the right to dignity and a decent life.”

(You aren’t allowed to take pictures at this museum, so the ones that I have included are from the Apartheid Museum Website that you can take a look at here: http://www.apartheidmuseum.org)