Monday, June 2, 2014

Reflecting on reflections

I officially leave in less then 30 days, and I am desperately clinging to the notion that I have impacted something, anything, in my 13 months here.  I have tried to write something a dozen times, with one of my signature cryptic endings, insinuating that the world is a good place, filled with good people, and I am just one of them, gazing through overly liberal/young/American filters.  I think I have found something that is easier.  Last night I found a reflection paper that I wrote two years ago, when I was here last.  Some of my experience is the same, most of it is vastly different.  Enjoy:


As my semester in South Africa is coming to an end, I have had the opportunity to reflect.  There are many aspects of this culture that were quite apparently foreign to me, there were some that took time to grapple with, and yet there are still aspects that I still do not fully understand.  Some are surface level, and some take meaningful contemplation for me to relate.  Whichever aspect we analyze, South African culture as it exists today is directly impacted by the imminent apartheid legacy as well as the devastating poverty that plagues the nation.  Some facets have been very hard for me to cope with but I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring and discovering this vivacious nation.

A pleasant cultural surprise for me coming to this country was that of body image with in the African woman’s community.  For me, popular culture tells me that I shouldn’t be happy with my body image because I do not fit the Barbie mannequin.  America’s idea of plus size does not correlate with South Africa’s.  The African woman takes pride in her body, regardless of the size, which I believe is a lesson that American woman can learn from.  I have been asked questions about my weight, and been told that “PE has made me fat!”  At first, I was very offended, but I have realized that this is just a compliment lost in translation.  These woman embrace and own themselves, and do not shy away from the body image conversations. ***I think I still agree with this.

As a business woman, another obvious difference for me was the organization of the restaurant industry in South Africa.  In the four months that I have spent in Port Elizabeth, I have never eaten at a restaurant in which the dining section was full.  My first question was how does the company pay overhead costs without business to sustain itself.  Secondly, most restaurants seem to be overstaffed.  As I have worked in the restaurant industry in the United States, I can attest that most restaurants look to cut staff as soon as there is not the business to sustain it.  I also really wonder about the income that the wait-staff are able to make in a South African restaurant as the customary gratuity policy is ten percent of a tab, where in the United States, comparable service often warrants double this.  For a business minded person like myself, I am intrigued by the operational organization of the restaurant industry how these industries function and profit.  The culture of South African business seems to be operating under different goals than comparable American companies.***** I don't even notice this anymore.  I have a feeling that I will be overwhelmed when I go to an American restaurant again.  I have gotten accustom to sitting, having a fat chat, not being doted over, and enjoying my time.  There is something innately different about the culture of time here, and maybe less about the financial scope. 

Another noticeably different aspect of culture coming to South Africa was the visibility of the nation’s poverty.  As we have spent time discussing, there is poverty in the United States, but it is not as vast, visible, or crippling as it is in South Africa.  At some times in the year, the unemployment rate is as high as half of the nation at some point of the year!  As a tourist from a first world nation, seeing poverty manifest into homelessness and begging was a painful difference, and had I trouble responding.  I believe that in South Africa, poverty has become a part of culture, because these visible signs of poverty are things that every national and tourist has to cope with on a daily basis.  Whether South Africans have grown immune to beggars and homeless people or not, the poverty litters the landscape. **** Yip, still inescapable.  Poverty consumes the nation.  Some days I am blinded to it, and some days my heart strings break.

Yet another noticeable difference that I first picked up on is the apparent need for security.  Beautiful, affluent neighbourhoods across the nation are guarded by barbed wire and brick fences to keep intruders away.  The ADT Personal and Atlas signs warn potential threats that a home is safely guarded.  The memorable Once Upon a Time, a short story studied in our South African Literature class, speaks to the trapping effect that this guarded culture has evolved to because of this fear of danger.  As the walls get higher, not only is the family secluding themselves from an outside world, but they are reinforcing a culture of fear to the younger generation.  I fear that upon returning home, I will have a sense of non-protection without these extreme precautions.***** I do miss green lawns, and parks with screaming kids, and people walking their dog.  I do still notice the high gates, but I also have had some first hand experience proving their necessity.  I do think people are often scared to leave their comforts, but I think I better understand the reasoning.

On a deeper level, there are many aspects of South African culture that took me months of grappling with to begin to understand.  Beliefs, values, and thought patterns often differ from my own because of the cultural lenses that we approach this world with.  The first of which would be the seemingly ever present irrational fear of race on the part of the white youth.  As white foreigners, we have had a unique opportunity to see the racial interactions of this country.  We do not fully assimilate with either the white South Africans and we cannot fully assimilate with the black South Africans.***** Ya, so Ive lived with a white family, hung out with the colored hood, and worked the New Brighton community (oh and fell in love with an Indian boy).  I still don't fit it anywhere perfectly, but I don't see myself as an outsider.  Long ago, I quit saying stuff like "well, in America," or "that's different."  My ill-fitting puzzle piece identity has become part of my make-up.

The idolized view of this new nation declares that the “born free” generation is colour-blind, and able to work cohesively in partnership.  My experience with the white South African youth says that much of the affluent population still harbors extreme fear of the unknown.   For instance, I have used a kombi for transportation for the last four months.  I have been told time and time again that this is risky behavior because public transport is a dodgy business.  In my time here, I have never felt unsafe or insecure in taxi, and I believe that these irrational fears stem from inexperience.  Further, I have spent a bit of time shopping in Norwich, the down town tundra-street mall.  My Afrikaner friend warned me that he has never even driven his car through that part of town because he is afraid that he will get high jacked.  Again, I offered him to come with to see that there was nothing to fear, but he insisted that he would not put himself in that “unpredictable” situation.  I wonder when South Africa will outgrow this culture of irrational fear and fully embrace Tutu’s ideal of Ubuntu.**** Well I have been fortunate enough to make a few more friends, and turns out that not everybody has irrational fears.  Lots of people have never explored the other side of the train tracks, but not because they are afraid, just simply because they never have. 

Another aspect of South African culture that has really struck me was the function that extended family plays in the township.  Largely, I have only been exposed to nuclear families raising children as the norm.  In South Africa, often grandparents fulfil this role as childbearing happens at a younger age.   Millions of babies are born out of wedlock, to unexpecting parents who often do not have the financial ability to care for a child.  Grandmothers parent the grandchild, while teaching the mother how best to be a parent.  In coming here, I was frustrated with what I saw as lack of responsibility.  Since my time in New Brighton paired with my Cape Town homestay, I have come to see that because of poverty, this is just a structure that is feasible for families.  I also believe that as the need for education becomes more readily accessible within the townships, young couples will wait to start families until later in life.** *** Yip, see my last post about baby Jim.

One of the biggest differences that I have noticed between my American culture and South African culture is found in the workplace.  At home, higher education is vital if one wants to “succeed” in the workplace.  My culture would differentiate a job, career, and a profession by the level of intellectual skill which is needed to perform such duties.  Because of the apartheid legacy in South Africa, entire generations of Africans are left without skills gained from any higher education, preventing them from entering the professional job market.  According to Fiona Ross in Raw Life New Hope, “Most workers were concentrated in the sector now designated ‘elementary occupations’ and that used to be referred to as unskilled or manual labor, and many worked intermittently in the year, irregularly in the week or for fewer hours weekly that qualified them to be registered for unemployment insurance,” (Ross, 106).  That is, what my culture would deem a “job,” is the majority of what South Africa deems “decent work.”  I question how fulfilling I would find my own life if I was trapped in this cycle of so-called decent work.**** I just had an argument about this the other day, but it really is a mute point.  There can be no work without education, which has not been addressed.  Also, PE is an industrializing economy.  Production, not service.  Americans don't value trades as PE does.  It is something that I still grapple with.

The last underlying value that I have noticed about South African culture is the role of justice in the township life.  There is a clear mistrust in the corrupting powers of the South African government, especially within the judicial system.  Historical resentment of police officers remains a powerful force in this culture.  Joleen Steyn Kotze, a senior political science lecturer, admits that when she has an issue which warrants an authoritative figure, she is reluctant to rely on the support of the police, as she would rather remedy the situation on her own.  The corruption of the bureaucracy in this country just do not act as a deterrent for criminals.  This scene of mistrust is also found within the township with “mob-justice.”  If a wrong-doer is caught, the people take it upon themselves to seek justice rather than relying on the system to enforce laws.  As someone foreign to this, I was very nervous that I would not have some governing body that I could fully trust to ensure my safety.**** Corruption is a certain issue that plagues this nation.  Just this weekend, a friend was asked to pay a bribe to get out of an unfair traffic violation.  Its madness, but I wouldn't even bother to go to the police if I needed.  Its more efficient, and often cheaper to seek help elsewhere.
 
 
****Well, I suppose I still have American blood running through my veins, but man do I feel like I understand this city in a deeper level.  Man do I feel like I am at home, and man do I feel like I have made an impact, at least on myself.****
 
 
 

Thursday, May 29, 2014

a new genteration


Yet again, I am crossing some ethical boundary, but I will do it anyway.

I have blogged about the top learners before, but essentially there are 50-some best of the best, learners from the hood.  They scored quality marks with subpar education to prepare themselves.  One of the Masinyusane programs that I have been involved with is to identify these learners, and help advocate for them to get through the system.

Anyway, there is this one chick who I saw quite often.  She is this bubbly thing.  Always late, kinda frustrating, but so vivacious.  She got into university, is excelling, and is living in the dorms.  A proper freshman experience!  Sunday at church, Jim got a call that she is pregnant, and going into labor, and could he please give her a ride to the hospital.  Holy surprise!

Baby Jim was born that night, to everybody’s surprise. Yes, you read that right.  She named the baby after the man who helped her get into university. LOLOLOLZ.  She and baby Jim were discharged on Monday morning.  She went back to the dorms, and baby went to a cousins home.  The reason I have decided to share this story is not because the baby is called Jim.  (though I am told that this is certainly not the first baby Jim roaming around the hood).  I think that is it such a compelling story for a few reasons. 

Fact: people have children very young, but there is an interesting look here at the makeup of family dynamics.  Homes are often compounds, filled with grannys, cousins, aunts, uncles and baby Jims .  My idea of a western nuclear family rarely applies.  And while it can be said that it is unfortunate that thousands of children are born to families that may not be ready, it is very neat how families often respond to this situation.

I also think that this learner deserves big ups as she is plowing through her exams!  She knows the value of her education, and to make the best life possible for baby Jim, she must persevere.  How bright is the future for baby Jim who has such a determined mother.  How bright is the future for all of these babies.  I really do think that the bend in the road is visible, and baby Jim is taking the curve!

Monday, May 12, 2014

a different kind of picture

If you haven't yet seen this, do yourself a favor.  Sit down for 20 minutes and see the incredible things that bennies and johnnies are telling. ETL is a group close to my heart, and this year they have compiled a very special story of the Karen refugees that needs to be heard.

I watched it twice.  You should too.








Monday, May 5, 2014

Motivate Me



I got to work at 6:45 this morning; I’ve been trying to get here early to actually be productive.  Winter is setting in here, so I have my heater on, and am bundled up in a scarf I just made for myself.  All that is on my mind is the sunrise-starbucks blend that is waiting for me at the office.  My commute travels through the big intersection in PE, Cape and William Moffett.  Usually I try to avoid it, but I heard on the radio that the popular radio station was there handing out cash to people listening to their station.  Well heck yes I will waste 5 minutes trying to get some free money.

The announcer came on the radio and said everybody in PE better be here, because Fresh is handing out cash.  I heard him knock on the window of some car idling at the light, and the unsuspecting target clearly had not got the memo that there was money being passed out at this corner.  Fresh, the announcer, said to the blue Toyota, turn on 5FM and ill through you R100.  Sweet!! Green light and blue Toyota rolls away.

I see the camera crew and this bald guy with cash walking up my lane.  This is getting pretty exciting!! I could be R100 richer just for taking the annoyingly busy intersection.  A homeless guy, who is visibly chilled, probably slept outside last night, and certainly isn’t looking forward to my sunrise-starbucks asks this well dressed, camera crew chased man for some help.  Nothing.  But wait, he is plenty glad to give me, the well-dressed warm girl in the little red Tupperware car some cash.  And blue Toyota wasn’t even listening to said radio station.  Is it because I am more likely to support their radio station in the future?  Maybe, but listening to radio is FREE. Is it because listeners want to hear about cash the blue Toyota could win, rather than the dirty, unwashed, probably drunk man on the corner. If so, that’s sick. 

Every day I go through intersections and there are desperate people; people who have belittled themselves to a point where they are forced to beg for their survival. Very rarely to I acknowledge them.  I pretend that I don’t see them staring at me because it’s easier to pretend that I’m a lowly volunteer, and I do enough.  Often I hear people say that they money they earn is just going to drugs anyway.  Maybe, but what’s a rand to me?  What’s a rand, or a piece of bread, or a blanket to the radio station very willing to hand blue Toyota and red Tupperware car R100.00.

Pause.

And just about every Saturday afternoon, I see a group of well dressed, mid-twenties, white girls shaking a tin (well, more than a tin) at the robots, raising money for a bachelorette party.  This Saturday made me laugh.  The sign read “Support Kelly’s last fling before the ring.”  Kelly, I presume, was the one covered in plastic penises showing everybody idling her mountain of a ring.  Kelly’s bridesmaids knock on my window wanting some change for Kelly to go get drunk.  Why is it ok for people to give Kelly money, but it’s not ok for people to give the nameless, faceless guy on the corner anything.  Why is Kelly more worthy? 

WHY ARE WE MOTIVATED TO SUPPORT PEOPLE THAT WE CAN IDENTIFY WITH?

That is my question of the week?  Why are humans social creatures, driven by the need to “affiliate” with things they care about?  And please don’t think that I’m some altruistic, philanthropic, Mother Theresa.  I didn’t turn and give any money to the faceless cold man.  My sunrise-starbucks was more important….  And while Kelly certainly didn’t get any of my money, I did look at her.  I did smile at her. I did acknowledge that she was a human being, with wants, and needs, and a favorite color.

Similarly, I have had some frustrations with some people surrounding me who seem to chronically let me down.  Partying seems to be a commitment that is easier to keep than other promises.  I seem to view a contract as binding.  Why is it that others view stimulation as more enticing than upholding a contract?  I see things in black and white:  I said I would help you complete your math assignment, I will.  I don’t not show up because last night got a bit wild.  Aghhh, maybe I’m blinded, or maybe I’m being unfair, and certainly I’m being judgmental.

We all have the “I really should,” voice, but why is it that we can turn that off.  Why is it so easy to turn a blind eye, and convince ourselves to put it out of our mind?  Are we unmotivated? Are we uninspired?  Are we selfish?

As many of you know, my time in SA is nearing its expiry, and I just took a position in the states with a very large corporation.  Boiled down and put simply, my job will be to motivate people to get their work done.  How in the heck to I do that when we are ALL able to turn our head, and ignore the “should do” voice.  How do you inspire the uninspired?  How do you motivate the unmotivated?

 

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

March and April slip away

 
 
I sincerely apologize for not updating you for the past month or so.  Life has been very chaotic.  I have been planning to craft up a blog here for a while, but I am really really struggling.  Many of my posts thus far have been expressing my frustrations, or my adventures, or what I found different to my Minny life.  But, here I have found myself, a year in, and cant distinguish as eloquently as I once could what is different or interesting, because I am just so acculturated at this point.
 
So I decided to go the easy route and offer you a handful visuals from the last month:
 
 I've gotten involved with a group of older ladies from the township community and we have been making beaded angels to sell.  Its a really cool program because it offers some of the unemployed community something productive to do.  I try to teach them a skill, that hopefully they enjoy, and that generates a bit of income for them.  The difficulty that I am finding is that they are very dependent on me.  They cant get the supplies with out me.  They cant sign in the attendance register with out me.  They cant sell the goods with out me.  The don't have any concept of the profit margin, or expense of the raw materials.  And finally, they will NOT stray from the expmples that I give them.  If I have one blue bead and then two silver beads, they will replicate it exactly.  If we run out of blue beads, they struggle to get crafty on their own.  Its a fun project, but I wish there was a way to make it more of their own.
I turned 23, and was spoiled by my boyfriend.  I mentioned a while ago that I met somebody special.  We have decided that we would like to continue perusing a relationship despite the ocean that will soon separate us.  Its scary, but I've landed a good one.  :)

Here is one of the Christmas ornament creations that I designed.  We have now made about 60 of them to sell.

A friend from church had a baby!!  I went to visit baby Jeshurun in the hospital and a few times since.  It has been 9 years since I have had a baby in my life, and man is it stress relieving to hold a little baby. (as long as I can give him back when I feel like it)

A new fad at school: melting down plastic bracelets and needle them into skin for a permanent tattoo.  Pictured above is one of my favorite students who, despite my pleadings and several conversations, has a handful of homemade tattoos in some indelicate places.  I worry that this is a slippery slope.

 

Dhiren took me to Hogsback for my birthday.  We hiked through the mountains for hours and hours and had to race against the sky to make it back to safety before the sun set on us.  It was truely one of the most naturally beautiful places I have ever witnessed.


Here we are attempting to take a selfie at the Madonna and Child waterfall.
I went to support Dhiren and his colegues as they participated in the corporate Ironman event.  He swam the leg and the other two guys cycled and ran.  It was a gloomy day overall, as Dhiren competed last year in the full (or as he calls it the real) Iron man which is 10x longer of an event to be completed by a single athlete.  However we were able to cheer on some of our friends as they competed in the "real" event on the following day.  How absolutely incredible to see those machines operate.
 
Here is the swimmers entering the chilly Indian ocean.
 
 

 
Here is a handful of my teens taking getting involved in the liturgy.  Its really sweet that I have developed and sustained these relationships with these guys, and its even sweeter that I got them to take an active role in celebrating Mass.  Here, the parish venerated the Cross on Holy Thursday. 

Dhiren and I went to a friend of his' 21st birthday party.  Not often do South Africans have themed parties, so I was extatic when we got the invite to dress as famous couples.  THIS IS MY JAM.  I love crafting up costume.  We went as Danny and Sandy from Grease.  There was one other couple dressed as the same characters, but I must say, we pulled it off much better thanks to the wig :)

Alexander Rhode High, a high school where several of my teens from the church attend, held a drama competition last week.  A group of us went to cheer on Lisa (left) who took home the gold!  I also had a teen working behind the scenes!

The ceiling fell out of place from when the thieves tried to break in through the roof.  I have decided to leave it like that to remind the kids that some people want to see harm to their school.  We need to stick together and do a better job of not throwing our chip packets on the ground, and have more respect for our school.  I have had very little effect in this initiative, but it still makes me feel better to tell kids to pick up after themselves.
 
Ben Sinuka, a primary school that Masinyusane has a hand in, got a "nurses office" last week!  I just thing this is so great and hilarious at the same time! :)  While there is no nurse to heal the sick, there is now a place to go if a child is feeling under the weather.  The sick bed shares a room with the social worker, who is there to gage if the students needs are being met, and the old library.  It is a busy, busy place.

Back at my school, all of the silverware has mysteriously disappeared.  The school has now said that until the spoons make their way back to the kitchen, the school will only offer this dish:  sour milk and porridge.  Hungry learners scarf down their "African Salad" with whatever tools they can find.  Here, this learner is using his cellphone cover, but others resort to using rulers, their hands, and leaves.

 
A few friends graduated from university this month, so we were able to celebrate with them.  Pictured here is a big group of Americans from CSBSJU who have also made friends with my graduating friends.  Its nice to see that they are making deeper connections to PE than I did when I was here before.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Again, very sorry for the lack of posts.  I vow to make a conscious effort to craft up some more venting sessions for your perusal.
 

Monday, March 10, 2014

Feb Five


It has been a whirlwind month of emotions.  It is setting in that my date of expiry is quickly approaching but I am not yet ready to be cast away.  There are still relationships to forge, and trips to the beach to make, and computer lessons to impart, and English papers to edit, and frantic Sundays to muddle through, and Gospels to interpret, and Xhosa to learn, and home visits to make, and curry with chutney to eat, and filter coffee to hunt down and hide from anybody and everybody, and life to live.  I see my MN friends who have started their adult lives, or want to be adult lives, and I just am not ready to join them there.

Anyway, such is life, and I will prevale.

Here are the top five things this month which have spun my world.

One:
New drug on the street!  Well maybe it’s not new?  But it came into my realm only recently.  ARVs.  That’s right: Anti-retroviral medication.  Same such pill is the little dream tablet which keeps HIV stable.  It doesn’t prevent a person from being infected, but it has worked miraculous for people to maintain a normal life once inflicted.  ARVs are sometimes hard to come by.  Occasionally, and some places a lot more than occasionally, clinics and hospitals cannot fill prescriptions fast enough, leaving people to wither away.
Ok, anyway, we have this issue.  Meanwhile, we have the other big hood issue of meth; tik as it is know here.  We all know this sad, destructive story of broken dreams, and shattered lives which meth leaves in its wake, but in New Brighton, it’s a slightly different.  Often people get addicted as tik curbs the pains of hunger.  And the new travesty that we must face is the introduction of tik laced with ARV.  The new (or as I said, new to me) thing is to boost the ARV from the clinic and sprinkle it in the meth.  When smoked, it is supposed to be some crazy new experience to remove someone from the daily struggles to which they face.

So now we have a shortage of so called miracle drug, being used for very dangerous bodily experiments, creating even more crime on the streets.  And in my schools.  And the absolutely worst part is if a person takes an Anti-retroviral when the antibodies haven’t been introduced to their body, it renders itself ineffective for the future (in other words, if they take this when they do not have HIV or AIDS, they can never take it if the person ever gets infected in the future,).  And as often happens stateside, people are taking the drugs without realizing the consequences, or are so addicted that any future consequences becomes inconsequential.  For obvious reasons, this hits very close to home.  I know that I can’t put a stop to this, but shoot, I’m going to try to help the one who brought it to my attention.


Two:
Myself and 4 other youth leaders from the church youth group were able to go spend a weekend in Cape Town training with the head honchos of Life Teen.  I could type for days about how rousing these guys were.  There were 150 youth groups all crammed in the most beautiful holding you can imagine, discussing God, and how to get teens interested.  It was really good for me, because as someone who imagined myself in ministry, I took a huge leap of faith coming to lead a youth group.  I have often felt very isolated, and Google has been my close friend. 

This conference did two things for me:  Completely validated my work!  I am someone who has always taken pride in not needing a lot of affirmation to get a job done, but this ministry has been a whole new ball game.  I really needed someone to say, wow!  You accomplished that!  And that’s a great idea that you had for this!  Second, and probably more novel, I was surrounded by people so on fire about God, and youth, and where the two collide.  I’m talking hands in the air, sink to their knees, happy clappy, Jesus lovers.  AND IT WAS GREAT.  And I am so inspired to make this program the best it can be!  I want to be the best that I can be!
 



Three:
A little Saint Ben’s and Saint John’s came to my hood.  As I have tirelessly mentioned, my alma mater sends 30 students to PE annually to study at the local university.  This is how I fell in love with this city, and two years later, I hope to offer these new fools an additional facet of my city.
A few weeks ago, I went to speak to the new kids in their intercultural class and told them that when I was sitting in their chair, I could have hugely benefited from having someone there preaching at me.  I could have used a break from the bar, and a bit more meaningful service.  As many of you most likely know, the three months after I returned from abroad in 2012 was by far the darkest time of my life.  Among many things, I felt as though I made zero sustainable difference in the lives which I encountered.  And that’s part of the inherent issue with all volunteer programs that are based on 6 hours of service, and throwing money at a situation, then leaving.  I digress.

I offered these guys a chance to make service more a pillar of their short time here.  Really make connections, and hopefully make those connections lasting.  I thought maybe 4 or 5 would want to give it a try.  20 emailed me with excitement to give up their time to come join forces with me.  I’m absolutely blown away!  Some of them are working on a reading program at the primary school, some are working on girls sports, a few involved with developing an art club/studio, and some are tutoring in math and physics.

It has only been two weeks, and kids come up to me every day saying when is that guy with the big hair coming back?  I have a question for him.  So incredibly inspiring to see how vibrant bennies and johnnies can be when given the opportunity.  But let me just say, volunteer management is quite the task!


Four:
  An old student surfaced a last week.  There is boy that I use to be invested in.  In fact, he made several appearances in my blog in the early days.  Life had an incredible plan for him to walk, a huge potential within his reaches.  I’m talking a needle in hay stack kind of kid.  I spent many, many hours with him trying to get him to capitalize on these gifts. 

Lots of things happened, as things usually do happen in a teenagers life, and he drifted.  Drugs and chasing money became a pillar in his life, and school and his future took a back burner.  Lots of tears in his living room, and a final straw from school, and he fell off my radar.  Occasionally I heard his name from the other learners, but it wasn’t affectionately, as once would have been.  I convinced myself that I did what I could, and I couldn’t lose anymore sleep over somebody who didn’t want me to love them.
 
Until last week.  I heard through the grapevine that he was pressed up against the fence and wanted to speak to me.  His jaw was busted, hanging loose, and a gash above his eye which a hue of blue.  The worst part was I didn’t even recognize his emaciated body.  He had always been thin, but it has gotten to a scary malnourished, wasting away, poor kid from Africa that they show on TV to make you cry, kind of body. 
There is no deep lesson here.  No pivotal point that I can try to spin into some happy ending, or some revelation that I had.  This isn’t some history paper that I got so good at cranking out.  This is a boy.  And his life is fragile.  And death is imminent.  And I allowed myself to accept that this was the path that he choose.  And I didn’t save the day because I was this philanthropic American here to save Africa.  And that is hard to chew.

 

 Five: 
 I found a fantastic spot for coffee.  Like I mean a barista who really gets it!  This man can craft the best cup of coffee I have had in a long time.  And for me to admit that he is better than me takes a lot.  And I met some company to share said coffee with.  Said company gets my struggles of 1-4, and so much more, and he encourages me strive to be a better.  Feeling blessed.  And all of this make the coffee taste even more decadent!!!

 
 
A few of my best flashin a little swag.

Said coffee from PE's finest!

Tiago posing for an artsy flick along the way

Naturally burring Phila!


Quick pre-CPT selfie along the road



Couldn't resist the artsy photo opportunity!

 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Screwed part 2


NSFAS update

I am hoping that some of you read my last post and agree with me that there are some serious injustices going on here.  I wanted to give you an update.

This past week the government announced it would officially NOT provide student loans to 70% of our Top Learners.  These Top Learners represent the top 1% of learners coming through the Township Education System.  They are the best of the best.  They represent the best chance for their families and communities to break out of the cycle of poverty.  All of them qualified to study at University - in fact - they were all accepted.  And now, inexplicably, the government has told 70% of them there is no money. It is an abomination and national disgrace.  

Our pleas for assistance had fallen on deaf ears until Mater Dei Catholic Church, led by Fr. Jerry Browne, decided enough was enough.  His sermon was planned, but as he said, the Holy Spirit intervened.  The Gospel this week was Matthew 5: 13-16- Salt of the Earth, Light of the World.  If you aren’t familiar with this passage, it is one which calls us to be a person who enhances this world, as salt enhances food and light enhances darkness.  Fr. Jerry felt compelled to through out his notecards and mid-sermon, established the Salt of the Earth, Light of the World Fund and raised over R168,000 in one day. It was an incredible act of generosity and love. The goal however is R200,000 which would allow all of the Top Learners to register and begin their classes this week. The Salt of the Earth, Light of the World Fund offers hope to our learners and their families hope.  More than that, it has shown our learners and their families that we care and will not sit by idly while their lives are oppressed.

This was by far the most powerful Mass that I have ever sat through.  This is an issue that was unknown to the majority of the affluent PE community, for various reasons.  Being told that we have 24 hours to raise this lump sum, and change lives forever was both intimidating and empowering. 

I am still disgusted that the government makes promises and just doesn’t deliver, and even more outraged that education doesn’t seem to be a priority here in the Eastern Cape.  The Salt of the Earth, Light of the World Fund has paid for their registration, but we still need NSFAS to agree to loan them the tuition money.  With our learners in class, we now have 3 months to convince government & the University to overturn this grave injustice and do the right thing.  We challenge everyone to speak to political leaders, NSFAS, and NMMU Management (particularly the VC's office).

Our Top Learners have started university this week, but overturning the government ruling will create another stressful 3 months.  I hope that those called to be the salt of the earth, and the light of the world will join forces!