Heeeellllloooooo out there! Sorry for being a little MIA. Things were a little hectic here last week with the American physician I'm working with on my main project being in town. It was awesome because we got a lot of work done, but I do have to say that it was a little bit of a shock to the system to be working at American efficiency pace again. Anyway, the project is really coming together and I am really stoked on it. I'm sure I will be talking lots about it as we continue to move forward.
This weekend was good times with a belated birthday party on Friday, which was mad fun, and again involved all aspects of brie, pool party, and dance party, as well as a group of Peace Corps volunteers looking for refuge. The highlight though was Saturday, when TK took Tim and me to a wedding. There is definitely a story there, and pictures!, but currently the Internet is moving a little slow here, so I'm gonna keep this short and just tempt you with promises of what's to come.
What I will give you is a little clip of some more African comedy. I have been enjoying some African stand-up today myself, so thought I would spread the wealth and let you feel like you were right here with me :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlmYsUiyhDc
It's one of THE most popular jokes/bits in Africa. Everybody knows it and references it all the time. It is actually a Nigerian comic. Gives a good sense of how there is humor in any reality and finding this humor is an important part of accepting the reality and surviving it.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
B to the day!
Reasons my birthday was awesome:
1. I got to sleep in.
2. I had peanut butter toast and papaya for breakfast- two of my favorites.
3. I got to read a trash book (my quality literature on my nook conveniently ran out of batteries and we had no power to recharge).
4. My friends surprised me with a birthday cake by 11 am, the best time for cake.
5. Was drinking by noon.
6. Got to swim in my own personal (now clean) pool.
7. Was treated to a dinner of prawns (my favorite!) by friends. - PS: No one does prawns like South Africans on the brie.
8. Had an amazing accompaniment to dinner of one of the most incredible lightning storms I've ever seen. And it didn't hurt that we were eating at a restaurant located at the point of the estuary aka awesome view.
9. The CD player in our big purple bus worked! Woot woot! And my awesome roommate chose Led Zeppelin for our soundtrack. Good call friend.
10. Oh, and did I mention I'm in Africa?! Life is good.
1. I got to sleep in.
2. I had peanut butter toast and papaya for breakfast- two of my favorites.
3. I got to read a trash book (my quality literature on my nook conveniently ran out of batteries and we had no power to recharge).
4. My friends surprised me with a birthday cake by 11 am, the best time for cake.
5. Was drinking by noon.
6. Got to swim in my own personal (now clean) pool.
7. Was treated to a dinner of prawns (my favorite!) by friends. - PS: No one does prawns like South Africans on the brie.
8. Had an amazing accompaniment to dinner of one of the most incredible lightning storms I've ever seen. And it didn't hurt that we were eating at a restaurant located at the point of the estuary aka awesome view.
9. The CD player in our big purple bus worked! Woot woot! And my awesome roommate chose Led Zeppelin for our soundtrack. Good call friend.
10. Oh, and did I mention I'm in Africa?! Life is good.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Jezebel...
The song that has been stuck in my head all week:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDMBB3lAMPE
Actually a mash up of three awesome house songs, but the last one is the one that I can't get out of my head. It's also a good example of Zulu and their awesome dancing. Pretty good representation of the party scene. Great way to bring in the weekend. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDMBB3lAMPE
Actually a mash up of three awesome house songs, but the last one is the one that I can't get out of my head. It's also a good example of Zulu and their awesome dancing. Pretty good representation of the party scene. Great way to bring in the weekend. Enjoy!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Food.
Last week I had the chance to help Gugu, TK's wife, make some traditional Zulu food.
That is the beautiful Gugu in my kitchen, and that is the awesome pap, specifically stiff pap. Pap is a staple of their diet, made from corn meal. The traditional Zulu food is corn based. Just plain pap is a porridge form of the corn meal that they often eat at breakfast, and can combine with jam or honey, fruit, whatever. Stiff pap is a thickened version, with cream and butter added, as well as any desired seasoning and/or accompaniment, like sweet corn in the one we made (hence the yellow dots). Gugu says she often uses garlic flavored butter, or adds mushrooms or whatever is lying around the fridge, and this seasoning Aromat, which is apparently just straight MSG. Stiff pap is often the starch to the meat of dinner, but depending on budget, may be the only thing for dinner. It's super filling, definitely has the calories, but pretty much zero nutrition. It's nice when you can add fresh vegetables like we did, but again, that's a budget issue.
The example of pap lends itself to a larger discussion of the concept of food and eating in South Africa. I can't tell you the grief I get here about my cooking and my eating habits, so I've had more than a few discussions about these topics. Things I get crap about:
- Lunch is a hot meal, like dinner. That I usually bring a cold lunch causes concern. They believe that's why I'm so skinny. Well, they might be partially true... A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is usually acceptable enough to not get any direct comments, but if I try and just do peanut butter with crackers and/or apples, they think that is ridiculous. Those are snacks. Pretty much anything with crackers is a snack, no matter how many you eat. I've tried to explain that crackers are just another form of bread, but they are not having it. In the last week or so I have brought in a couple leftovers that I warmed up and they got sooo excited! "Oh! Jessica actually cooked! She is eating a hot lunch! Everybody look! It's amazing!" Seriously guys? I tell you that I cook every night. Hilarious.
- Pasta is not cooking, in any form. When I first told them I cook, they were very impressed. Then they asked me what I cook. I said, "Oh you know, spaghetti...". "Ooooh, that doesn't count." I'm sorry, what? Spaghetti doesn't count? When I tried to explain that it wasn't just pasta, but a meat sauce as well that actually resembles a lot of their dishes, nope, not having it. Doesn't count.
- Sidenote: When I actually brought in spaghetti for lunch one day, and they actually saw and smelled the products of my labor, they were very impressed, mouths watering. Ha. So there.
- Meat should be part of every meal. The idea that I don't eat meat at every meal astounds them. Also their other major issue with my lunch usually. While in some cultures meat is considered a luxury, it is still rural enough here that they keep their own livestock, including goats, chickens and cows, so meat remains a staple. The way they explain it to me is that they eat what's at their fingertips, so what they can provide for themselves, the animals they keep, the vegetables and fruit in their gardens, and what they can afford in the store, so cheap bulk products, like corn meal (and cheap, filling junk food). The vegetables and fruit have the potential to round out their nutrition, but due to drought conditions here and the changing culture (more pressure to make money through employment, working long hours, less time for the labor to keep a garden), these become limited, leaving meat and corn meal, meat and pap, pretty much the standard diet here. And then there are those that aren't even able to afford meat, which leaves straight pap, which does the job, fills the belly, and that's it.
This leads to the other major difference we talk about: the end goal of eating in our cultures. The end and only goal for them: get full. Yes, we are also striving for this, but we are also (or at least try to be) conscious of other objectives of eating, such as health and nutrition. Like they think it's so hilarious that I think about more than just ending up full when I plan a meal, like it being balanced. I'm such a silly goose!
I'm trying to create an open exchange of recipes and cooking lessons, and while they are more than willing to provide on their end ("We will teach you how to ACTUALLY cook"), they are less open to accepting in return. They are pretty settled that they don't like American food and what I have to offer. But, I am obviously expected to try all of their food and enjoy it. Really fair guys. I guess I was the one that chose to move halfway across the world and stick myself in the middle of their business. When in Rome... I have to give credit to Gugu who is always willing to at least take a bite, and usually enjoys it. And Tony ate my food despite confessing that is was "different than what I'm used to" and ended up enjoying it. Though Tony is a boy and will pretty much eat anything you put in front of him. That remains true in any culture.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I bless the rains down in Africa...
Gotta make this quick cause the power is in and out.
Here's a couple New York Times articles from today that speak to what I'm doing. The first one is very obviously related, talking about health solutions in rural Africa:
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/18/health-care-and-the-art-of-motorcycle-maintenance/?hp
And the second one actually based in the good ol' U.S. of A. Kansas no less. How does this have anything to do with what I'm working on you say? It actually closely relates to the topic of culture discussed in the last couple posts. Take a peek:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/19/science/earth/19fossil.html?_r=1&hpw
Would love to hear your thoughts!
Here's a couple New York Times articles from today that speak to what I'm doing. The first one is very obviously related, talking about health solutions in rural Africa:
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/18/health-care-and-the-art-of-motorcycle-maintenance/?hp
And the second one actually based in the good ol' U.S. of A. Kansas no less. How does this have anything to do with what I'm working on you say? It actually closely relates to the topic of culture discussed in the last couple posts. Take a peek:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/19/science/earth/19fossil.html?_r=1&hpw
Would love to hear your thoughts!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Cross the line...
Last week I had the opportunity to observe a workshop about sexual and reproductive health and rights, with a focus on abortion. The workshop was run by the same organization, Ipas, that is funding the grant I am working on. Ipas focuses on women's health and reproductive rights, clearly. I was there partly out of personal interest but also because we will probably be integrating part of this curriculum into ours for the grant. The audience was mainly home based health workers from Mpilonhle, mostly women who don't speak a lot of English. They service homes with HIV+ learners or homes of learners who have an HIV+ person living with them. The workshop covered basic sexual and reproductive health and rights and then focused in on abortion, reviewing the legislation in place in South Africa, doing values clarification exercises, and having discussions. The challenging part for me was that most of it was in Zulu. God, what I would have given to understand what those people were saying. Clearly they were having very engaging and passionate discussions, and I could only imagine what was transpiring. This experience alone inspired me to learn Zulu. I was so curious to hear their voices on this issue that is so challenging. What is their understanding of it? What are their questions? How do they feel about it? Why? As discussed in yesterday's post, it is so valuable for me to experience an issue firsthand in order to really understand it, see it and feel it as they do, rather than assuming I know. There is a clarity that comes with personal experience that sticks with me in a way that I can't achieve no matter how many times I've read or been lectured on the material.
Though I was not able to understand much of anything being said, I was still able to achieve this enlightenment. It came through the values clarification exercises. They were particularly interesting to me because I had actually participated in some of them in similar workshops back home, like Four Corners, where a statement is read aloud and you stand in a corner designated strongly agree, agree, disagree, or strongly disagree depending on your stance. In this exercise it was interesting to observe the similarities of the outcomes to those at home, for example there was never a complete consensus with any of the statements, there was always a spectrum of opinions. The exercises were also more action based, not a lot of talking, so I could observe and understand what was going on, and the point being portrayed.
My moment of clarity came during the exercise called "Cross the line..." where a statement is read, and if it is true for you, you step over the line. The first statement was "You were raised to believe that abortion should not be openly discussed". Most people crossed the line. Not surprising. Second statement: "At some point in your life, you believed abortion is wrong". Everybody crossed the line. Again, not surprising. It's understandable that anyone would struggle with this issue and easy to believe that at some point it crosses everybody's mind that it is wrong, especially in a more conservative culture. Then the third statement: "You were raised to believe that abortion is a woman's right". Not a single person crossed the line. Not one. This is the one that got me. Sure, the response to the other two might of suggested this response, but for some reason the stillness and quiet of not a single person moving was astonishing. I wasn't expecting a lot, don't get me wrong, but at least one. A single person that had the potential to carry on the message, normalize even the idea of someone having this opinion. But, no. This message relies on outside forces, such as Ipas, to come in and provide education. It is one thing to foster a movement that has its strongholds, its another to come in and totally introduce a whole new way of thinking.
And here we run into the challenge faced by most every public health issues as well as many other issues burdening mankind, economic, political, etc, etc. I've personally been reading all about it in my research about teenage pregnancy. All these issues are complex and multi-faceted, and we must respect them as such. We have learned that trying to tackle an issue through an intervention focused solely on one aspect will quickly be overwhelmed by the influences of the other aspects involved. So, now we take a big picture approach and try and intervene on many levels. We have found that we can successfully reach individuals, communities, and even governments. But, the factor of culture remains a stronghold, the source of stigma and shared beliefs. There is no proven method to influence culture nor its stigma and beliefs. So, what do we do? Like I mentioned yesterday, we do what we can! Like Ipas coming in to initiate dialogue about abortion among rural Zulus, or Mpilonhle working to normalize HIV testing in learners by coming back year after year to these schools to do repeat screening. Does it help? Not totally sure. Culture moves and changes at its own pace. What influences it and how remains unclear. It can get frustrating, that's for sure. And sometimes I question, am I really helping/doing good if I'm having to come in and introduce an entirely new viewpoint? Or am I just inflicting my own views, my own opinion of what's right, on these people? But, then you look at the maternal mortality rates, especially those associated with botched abortions, or the HIV prevalence rates, and it's obvious something needs to be done.
With all this pondering, I was very excited to find a New York Times article on the developing field of research around the link between culture and poverty:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/18/us/18poverty.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=poverty,%20culture&st=cse
A nice tie in and definitely worth a read.
At the end of the day, I will always remember how not a single person crossed that line, and how the issues of abortion in South Africa suddenly made sense.
Though I was not able to understand much of anything being said, I was still able to achieve this enlightenment. It came through the values clarification exercises. They were particularly interesting to me because I had actually participated in some of them in similar workshops back home, like Four Corners, where a statement is read aloud and you stand in a corner designated strongly agree, agree, disagree, or strongly disagree depending on your stance. In this exercise it was interesting to observe the similarities of the outcomes to those at home, for example there was never a complete consensus with any of the statements, there was always a spectrum of opinions. The exercises were also more action based, not a lot of talking, so I could observe and understand what was going on, and the point being portrayed.
My moment of clarity came during the exercise called "Cross the line..." where a statement is read, and if it is true for you, you step over the line. The first statement was "You were raised to believe that abortion should not be openly discussed". Most people crossed the line. Not surprising. Second statement: "At some point in your life, you believed abortion is wrong". Everybody crossed the line. Again, not surprising. It's understandable that anyone would struggle with this issue and easy to believe that at some point it crosses everybody's mind that it is wrong, especially in a more conservative culture. Then the third statement: "You were raised to believe that abortion is a woman's right". Not a single person crossed the line. Not one. This is the one that got me. Sure, the response to the other two might of suggested this response, but for some reason the stillness and quiet of not a single person moving was astonishing. I wasn't expecting a lot, don't get me wrong, but at least one. A single person that had the potential to carry on the message, normalize even the idea of someone having this opinion. But, no. This message relies on outside forces, such as Ipas, to come in and provide education. It is one thing to foster a movement that has its strongholds, its another to come in and totally introduce a whole new way of thinking.
And here we run into the challenge faced by most every public health issues as well as many other issues burdening mankind, economic, political, etc, etc. I've personally been reading all about it in my research about teenage pregnancy. All these issues are complex and multi-faceted, and we must respect them as such. We have learned that trying to tackle an issue through an intervention focused solely on one aspect will quickly be overwhelmed by the influences of the other aspects involved. So, now we take a big picture approach and try and intervene on many levels. We have found that we can successfully reach individuals, communities, and even governments. But, the factor of culture remains a stronghold, the source of stigma and shared beliefs. There is no proven method to influence culture nor its stigma and beliefs. So, what do we do? Like I mentioned yesterday, we do what we can! Like Ipas coming in to initiate dialogue about abortion among rural Zulus, or Mpilonhle working to normalize HIV testing in learners by coming back year after year to these schools to do repeat screening. Does it help? Not totally sure. Culture moves and changes at its own pace. What influences it and how remains unclear. It can get frustrating, that's for sure. And sometimes I question, am I really helping/doing good if I'm having to come in and introduce an entirely new viewpoint? Or am I just inflicting my own views, my own opinion of what's right, on these people? But, then you look at the maternal mortality rates, especially those associated with botched abortions, or the HIV prevalence rates, and it's obvious something needs to be done.
With all this pondering, I was very excited to find a New York Times article on the developing field of research around the link between culture and poverty:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/18/us/18poverty.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=poverty,%20culture&st=cse
A nice tie in and definitely worth a read.
At the end of the day, I will always remember how not a single person crossed that line, and how the issues of abortion in South Africa suddenly made sense.
My first proposal... and another white girl moment...
Yesterday my friend Andile invited me to a traditional Zulu 21st birthday party for two sisters, known in Zulu as umemulo. A little history: The ceremony marks the girl's entry into womanhood, kind of like a coming out to society. It used to be associated with the first menstruation, but with new social norms adopted, they have moved it to surround the 21st birthday, promoting delayed sexual debut and marriage. The ritual is also supposed to celebrate the girls' virginity, but the way it was explained to me was: "Are they REALLY virgins? <laughter and a look of 'silly goose'> Hell no, not even close, but their parents sure think so." Nice. This is an example of a social norm here that is worth talking about, a kind of 'don't ask, don't tell' policy (for a modern day reference) that applies to things surrounding sex: virginity status, infidelity, homosexuality, etc, etc, and as you can imagine, it also encompasses HIV. And it's not like they are not sexual. It is a very sexually charged culture, they just choose to ignore particular aspects that could be considered negative, the heavier, more challenging concepts. They keep sex light and airy and fun. This cultural norm contributes enormously to many challenges here, not only HIV, but also sexual violence, mistreatment of women, and abortion, among other things. This is a topic worth exploring further in a future post.
So, to continue, it doesn't have to be exactly on the 21st birthday, just anytime after that, and while she is still a young woman. Andile was explaining to me how often people wait so two sisters can have it together, making it more affordable for a family. This is how Andile had hers (she was 24 at the time) and how the one on Saturday was being done.
Saturday's event took place at a nearby township, which was quite lovely. Reminded me of a middle class American suburb in a lot of ways, cute little houses, a local school, people walking on the streets enjoying their Saturday, a nice little community. This is a nicer township, closer to a bigger city (Richards Bay), with paved roads and such, whereas the ones closer to Mtuba are a little more rundown. But, they were still faced with the challenges of township life, like no water, which can be difficult when you are hosting a party for hundreds of people. What makes it a nicer township is that they know when and why their water is off and have township representatives delivering water to them in the mean time. That does not happen in Mtuba, where it is much more mysterious and unclear with obvious political undertons (they don't know when the water will be off or on, no one really knows why, and some people have it while others don't.
The event started in the early afternoon at the local school where the "birthday" girls and their friends and girls from the community sang and danced in traditional Zulu garb, performing for the crowd.
Part of the tradition is for the girls and their closest friends to go out into the audience intermittently during the performance and present audience members with a traditional Zulu spear and a bow. You then accept the spear and return it to the girls with a gift of money that you pin to their heads (don't worry, they wear hair nets to facilitate this process). So, guess who gets picked out of the crowd less than five minutes after showing up? Yup, that's right: WHITE GIRL!!!!
It was actually pretty cool to go up. I did drag Andile and her friends with me. It was lovely, the crowd got a big kick out of it and cheered and whistled me on. Apparently the money is for the girls to do what they will, a gift to them as they enter womanhood.
The boys got a turn too.
As always, the singing and dancing was just incredible. I was totally mesmerized. I could of sat there all day just enjoying their rich culture. And thank you to Andile for taking all the pictures because I had too much pride to be that jackass white girl tourist taking pictures at the traditional ritual!
People started approaching me pretty quickly, mainly men. An older guy came by and was very excited I was there and enjoying myself and accepting of their culture. Another guy asked me if I was willing to join the line up. I regretfully declined being as I was not wearing the right bra nor was I willing to compete with those Zulu women's bare breasts. The older guy returned to let me know that his friend would like to propose, pointing out a paunchy middle aged man. In my head I was like, "Propose what?", but as I looked at everybody's silly smiles, it clicked, "Aaah, propose marriage." He laughed as he saw it come together on my face. We then had a joking back and forth. I told him "Depends on the lobola...", to which he asked if my parents were around to negotiate. We decided Andile would be my representative, who then proceeded to make jokes about how she was gonna sell me off for R 500. Thanks Andi. Way to look out for a girl. I also wanted to know if I was gonna be first or second wife. I wasn't gonna accept anything less than first, obvi. It was quite entertaining, but every once in awhile this guy would say something like, "No, but really, these men, they are the top of the community, most respected, principals, director of the municipality, you know? High up", giving me a look and nod like 'Seriously, you should consider this'. It was kind of hilarious, this go between of 'Haha so funny!... But, no, I'm serious.... But, just kidding!... But, seriously.' Like a 'this is serious if you want it to be serious, but I'm just going to make light of it and follow your lead'. For like half a second I was concerned I was actually going to have to formally turn this guy down.
After the performance, we paraded back to the house. I got swept up in the chanting and dancing and was "crowned" with a beaded ring they put around your neck. I was quite the crowd pleaser if I do say so myself. After my performance, I got another couple "Hey, are you free?"'s. I told the girls that this just happens when I start shaking my hips. It's inevitable. :)
After we arrived back at the house we hung out outside and drank and ate and listened to good music.
There was a big tent, but most people were hanging out by their cars, blasting music, kind of like a huge block party/tailgate. I got to meet a bunch of people, including one of the guests of honor.
At around 8 the DJ showed up. What what! Dance party! The older people had filtered out as the eating ended, and now it was mostly young people and drinking. It was funny, other than the men at the ritual, most of the other people I had met had been women, then all of a sudden, when the party changed gears, the men started approaching. They had been there the whole time, but had just kept their distance. I come to find out by the guys that started talking to me that apparently they were all scared, the lone white girl in the township (apparently I'm the first one they've ever seen come in there), what is she doing here? But sure enough, you get them a little liquored up and suddenly they have the balls to talk to you. And these boys were shameless. I got everything from "I've always wanted a white girlfriend" to "I want to spoil you. Can I spoil you? Please let me spoil you.". The best part of the latter line is
a) The deliverer's name was Innocent. No joke. Here's his card:
b) His friend outed him that he had just got married two weeks ago. And he was wearing his wedding ring, which he only tried to cover up when I pointed it out. Seriously?! Two weeks?! Jesus man. I told him to go home and spoil his wife, to which he replied "Nah, but at least take my card." Unbelievable.
I did meet some nice guys (from what I gathered) who were interesting to talk to and weren't all over me. So not all men are slimey. They probably all had girlfriends AND were semi-faithful (a rare combination and usually the qualifications for a good guy in this country) but fun to hang out with.
One of Andile's friends and I joined the dance party. It was a pretty packed dancefloor with minimal personal space. There was definitely a little bit of vying for who gets to dance with the white girl, which caused some chaos. I did a pretty good job of holding my own, all of course while Andile's friend kept a watchful eye on me. Some people insisted on having their picture taken while dancing with the white girl, both men and women. Some people just touched my hair. The shamelessness of the men continued on the dancefloor. The range of men that tried things was kind of hilarious, from skinny 15 year old boys to overweight 40 year old men. I did a pretty good job of getting down while fending off advances if I do say so myself. I just had a big smile on my face and kept laughing. At one point I looked up and there was an audience standing around the dancefloor watching/staring at me, which, in my opinion, proves they were impressed with my dancing, or at least having the guts to go out there and keep up with these guys. In a lot of ways it parallels the school incident my first week with the little boys, except these boys were grown men who had been drinking. What a difference a little time makes.
We left around 11:30 because a) I was exhausted by the long day of drinking and dancing and b) township life gets pretty sketchy pretty quick late at night. The entire day was amazing. I had so much fun and everybody was so welcoming. As much as I was an obvious outsider, they made me feel very comfortable and included. Everybody was always checking up on me. It was very sweet. One of my favorite quotes from the night was when one of Andile's friends would go to the bathroom, she would say: "I'll be black, stay white here". Watching out for me all while keeping it real making racial jokes. Good times. Thanks Sipiwe. Much love.
And I learned a lot about Zulu culture, new and old. The ritual was awesome and I told them I would prescribe to the see one, do one, teach one mantra when it came to the singing and dancing, so now I've seen one, next up: do one. It was also a good experience for me to be out on my own as a female, with other young females, no bodygaurds, white or black, official or unofficial, to protect me and scare people off. You know, you hear all about how the dynamic works, but there is something about experiencing it for yourself. As frustrating as it can be to deal with these situations, it's important for me to live as a local if I want to feel comfortable and belong. To handle some of the issues that these women handle everyday will hopefully allow me to relate somewhat and create a better solution. And, my oh my, does it provide perspective.
These people have this beautiful culture, which, in all honesty, makes me jealous, but they are also facing some major crises, such as HIV and rape, also closely tied to culture. Clearly there are some things that need to be reconciled in order to make real progress on these issues. Culture is so deeply ingrained, it's not an easy task. But it doesn't mean we don't give it a good old college try! More on that tomorrow...
So, to continue, it doesn't have to be exactly on the 21st birthday, just anytime after that, and while she is still a young woman. Andile was explaining to me how often people wait so two sisters can have it together, making it more affordable for a family. This is how Andile had hers (she was 24 at the time) and how the one on Saturday was being done.
Saturday's event took place at a nearby township, which was quite lovely. Reminded me of a middle class American suburb in a lot of ways, cute little houses, a local school, people walking on the streets enjoying their Saturday, a nice little community. This is a nicer township, closer to a bigger city (Richards Bay), with paved roads and such, whereas the ones closer to Mtuba are a little more rundown. But, they were still faced with the challenges of township life, like no water, which can be difficult when you are hosting a party for hundreds of people. What makes it a nicer township is that they know when and why their water is off and have township representatives delivering water to them in the mean time. That does not happen in Mtuba, where it is much more mysterious and unclear with obvious political undertons (they don't know when the water will be off or on, no one really knows why, and some people have it while others don't.
The event started in the early afternoon at the local school where the "birthday" girls and their friends and girls from the community sang and danced in traditional Zulu garb, performing for the crowd.
Part of the tradition is for the girls and their closest friends to go out into the audience intermittently during the performance and present audience members with a traditional Zulu spear and a bow. You then accept the spear and return it to the girls with a gift of money that you pin to their heads (don't worry, they wear hair nets to facilitate this process). So, guess who gets picked out of the crowd less than five minutes after showing up? Yup, that's right: WHITE GIRL!!!!
It was actually pretty cool to go up. I did drag Andile and her friends with me. It was lovely, the crowd got a big kick out of it and cheered and whistled me on. Apparently the money is for the girls to do what they will, a gift to them as they enter womanhood.
The boys got a turn too.
As always, the singing and dancing was just incredible. I was totally mesmerized. I could of sat there all day just enjoying their rich culture. And thank you to Andile for taking all the pictures because I had too much pride to be that jackass white girl tourist taking pictures at the traditional ritual!
People started approaching me pretty quickly, mainly men. An older guy came by and was very excited I was there and enjoying myself and accepting of their culture. Another guy asked me if I was willing to join the line up. I regretfully declined being as I was not wearing the right bra nor was I willing to compete with those Zulu women's bare breasts. The older guy returned to let me know that his friend would like to propose, pointing out a paunchy middle aged man. In my head I was like, "Propose what?", but as I looked at everybody's silly smiles, it clicked, "Aaah, propose marriage." He laughed as he saw it come together on my face. We then had a joking back and forth. I told him "Depends on the lobola...", to which he asked if my parents were around to negotiate. We decided Andile would be my representative, who then proceeded to make jokes about how she was gonna sell me off for R 500. Thanks Andi. Way to look out for a girl. I also wanted to know if I was gonna be first or second wife. I wasn't gonna accept anything less than first, obvi. It was quite entertaining, but every once in awhile this guy would say something like, "No, but really, these men, they are the top of the community, most respected, principals, director of the municipality, you know? High up", giving me a look and nod like 'Seriously, you should consider this'. It was kind of hilarious, this go between of 'Haha so funny!... But, no, I'm serious.... But, just kidding!... But, seriously.' Like a 'this is serious if you want it to be serious, but I'm just going to make light of it and follow your lead'. For like half a second I was concerned I was actually going to have to formally turn this guy down.
After the performance, we paraded back to the house. I got swept up in the chanting and dancing and was "crowned" with a beaded ring they put around your neck. I was quite the crowd pleaser if I do say so myself. After my performance, I got another couple "Hey, are you free?"'s. I told the girls that this just happens when I start shaking my hips. It's inevitable. :)
After we arrived back at the house we hung out outside and drank and ate and listened to good music.
There was a big tent, but most people were hanging out by their cars, blasting music, kind of like a huge block party/tailgate. I got to meet a bunch of people, including one of the guests of honor.
At around 8 the DJ showed up. What what! Dance party! The older people had filtered out as the eating ended, and now it was mostly young people and drinking. It was funny, other than the men at the ritual, most of the other people I had met had been women, then all of a sudden, when the party changed gears, the men started approaching. They had been there the whole time, but had just kept their distance. I come to find out by the guys that started talking to me that apparently they were all scared, the lone white girl in the township (apparently I'm the first one they've ever seen come in there), what is she doing here? But sure enough, you get them a little liquored up and suddenly they have the balls to talk to you. And these boys were shameless. I got everything from "I've always wanted a white girlfriend" to "I want to spoil you. Can I spoil you? Please let me spoil you.". The best part of the latter line is
a) The deliverer's name was Innocent. No joke. Here's his card:
b) His friend outed him that he had just got married two weeks ago. And he was wearing his wedding ring, which he only tried to cover up when I pointed it out. Seriously?! Two weeks?! Jesus man. I told him to go home and spoil his wife, to which he replied "Nah, but at least take my card." Unbelievable.
I did meet some nice guys (from what I gathered) who were interesting to talk to and weren't all over me. So not all men are slimey. They probably all had girlfriends AND were semi-faithful (a rare combination and usually the qualifications for a good guy in this country) but fun to hang out with.
One of Andile's friends and I joined the dance party. It was a pretty packed dancefloor with minimal personal space. There was definitely a little bit of vying for who gets to dance with the white girl, which caused some chaos. I did a pretty good job of holding my own, all of course while Andile's friend kept a watchful eye on me. Some people insisted on having their picture taken while dancing with the white girl, both men and women. Some people just touched my hair. The shamelessness of the men continued on the dancefloor. The range of men that tried things was kind of hilarious, from skinny 15 year old boys to overweight 40 year old men. I did a pretty good job of getting down while fending off advances if I do say so myself. I just had a big smile on my face and kept laughing. At one point I looked up and there was an audience standing around the dancefloor watching/staring at me, which, in my opinion, proves they were impressed with my dancing, or at least having the guts to go out there and keep up with these guys. In a lot of ways it parallels the school incident my first week with the little boys, except these boys were grown men who had been drinking. What a difference a little time makes.
We left around 11:30 because a) I was exhausted by the long day of drinking and dancing and b) township life gets pretty sketchy pretty quick late at night. The entire day was amazing. I had so much fun and everybody was so welcoming. As much as I was an obvious outsider, they made me feel very comfortable and included. Everybody was always checking up on me. It was very sweet. One of my favorite quotes from the night was when one of Andile's friends would go to the bathroom, she would say: "I'll be black, stay white here". Watching out for me all while keeping it real making racial jokes. Good times. Thanks Sipiwe. Much love.
And I learned a lot about Zulu culture, new and old. The ritual was awesome and I told them I would prescribe to the see one, do one, teach one mantra when it came to the singing and dancing, so now I've seen one, next up: do one. It was also a good experience for me to be out on my own as a female, with other young females, no bodygaurds, white or black, official or unofficial, to protect me and scare people off. You know, you hear all about how the dynamic works, but there is something about experiencing it for yourself. As frustrating as it can be to deal with these situations, it's important for me to live as a local if I want to feel comfortable and belong. To handle some of the issues that these women handle everyday will hopefully allow me to relate somewhat and create a better solution. And, my oh my, does it provide perspective.
These people have this beautiful culture, which, in all honesty, makes me jealous, but they are also facing some major crises, such as HIV and rape, also closely tied to culture. Clearly there are some things that need to be reconciled in order to make real progress on these issues. Culture is so deeply ingrained, it's not an easy task. But it doesn't mean we don't give it a good old college try! More on that tomorrow...
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Nontokozo
So, today I was officially given my Zulu name, Nontokozo, which means happiness, joy. :) I like it. It is the duty of the Zulu to whom you feel closest to give you your name. So for me, Thuli. This makes me realize how awful it is that I haven't really introduced Thuli in this blog yet! She is by far my best Zulu friend. Soon. I promise. So now we are working on a nickname. I suggested Kozo, which can be turned into Kozy. Thuli says it's Nontok, aka the worst nickname ever! It's a work in progress.
It was a perfect gift on the one month anniversary of my arrival. I can't believe it! One month already! It feels like just yesterday, but also forever ago. I'm really starting to feel comfortable here and am already dreading the thought of leaving. I hope everybody has been enjoying the blog! I really love all your replies! Especially Water Buffalo, though I have to confess I don't know who you are? Would you mind giving me a hint Water Buffalo? Much appreciated!
Now that I've been here a month I'm ready to start spreading my wings and explore! Which also means it's time to pull in all the connections. :) So who knows anyone in Africa, especially in South Africa or surrounding areas, that would take me in for a weekend or two? Anyone gonna be in Africa in the next 7-8 months and want a visitor? :) Any references would be appreciated! So far on my/our (Tim is my unofficial travel partner) list: Durban, Cape Town, Swaziland, Lesotho, Mozambique, Namibia, scuba diving, swimming with sharks, soccer games, camping, aka lots of road trips in the big purple/magenta bus! Woot woot! Any ideas, suggestions, tips would be much appreciated! We are always looking to expand the list!
It was a perfect gift on the one month anniversary of my arrival. I can't believe it! One month already! It feels like just yesterday, but also forever ago. I'm really starting to feel comfortable here and am already dreading the thought of leaving. I hope everybody has been enjoying the blog! I really love all your replies! Especially Water Buffalo, though I have to confess I don't know who you are? Would you mind giving me a hint Water Buffalo? Much appreciated!
Now that I've been here a month I'm ready to start spreading my wings and explore! Which also means it's time to pull in all the connections. :) So who knows anyone in Africa, especially in South Africa or surrounding areas, that would take me in for a weekend or two? Anyone gonna be in Africa in the next 7-8 months and want a visitor? :) Any references would be appreciated! So far on my/our (Tim is my unofficial travel partner) list: Durban, Cape Town, Swaziland, Lesotho, Mozambique, Namibia, scuba diving, swimming with sharks, soccer games, camping, aka lots of road trips in the big purple/magenta bus! Woot woot! Any ideas, suggestions, tips would be much appreciated! We are always looking to expand the list!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Last week: Team Paramount! This week: Audit?!
Yes, way less fun, but true. This week we are being audited by good old PEPFAR. Well, I should say we are being audited (or assessed is the softer way of putting it) by the contractor who was hired by the in-country contractor who was hired by the domestic "beltway bandit" contractor who was hired by the US government. Holler at your boy. Bureaucracy at its best. Though it is not the most efficient process (I was in the longest meeting of my life today, 9:30 AM to 4:15 PM with an hour lunch break around 2:45), there is a lot to learn, between watching our fearless leader Mike to the rest of our staff to the assessment team themselves. And I think the key lies in all of our belief in a global health mantra Mike taught me years ago:
There is a difference between wanting to do good, thinking you are doing good, and actually doing good.
That is more or less what the assessment team is trying to sort out in this process. It's also what I think makes Mpilonhle special, that it doesn't forget this mantra, and is trying to sort this out within the organization everyday.
Anyway, after a day like that, all I could really handle was watching a movie, so TK and his family brought over "Goodbye Bafana", a great movie about Nelson Mandela and his main prison gaurd. I highly recommend it. Oh, and to make the night extra special, TK's daughter brought over popcorn she made! It was soooo good! I couldn't stop eating it and am pretty convinced I will be sick in the morning, but it was some nice comfort food, popcorn with a movie. :) Thanks Senna!
There is a difference between wanting to do good, thinking you are doing good, and actually doing good.
That is more or less what the assessment team is trying to sort out in this process. It's also what I think makes Mpilonhle special, that it doesn't forget this mantra, and is trying to sort this out within the organization everyday.
Anyway, after a day like that, all I could really handle was watching a movie, so TK and his family brought over "Goodbye Bafana", a great movie about Nelson Mandela and his main prison gaurd. I highly recommend it. Oh, and to make the night extra special, TK's daughter brought over popcorn she made! It was soooo good! I couldn't stop eating it and am pretty convinced I will be sick in the morning, but it was some nice comfort food, popcorn with a movie. :) Thanks Senna!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
TEAM PARAMOUNT!
So, the reason I was so busy last week, hence why the posts were minimal, was that the one and only Tony was in town. Tony is one of the Master Coaches from Grassroot Soccer and was here for the week to work with Tim and the rest of the GRS team at Mpilonhle. Things to know about Tony:
1. He is Xhosa (pronounced Tosa, with the T actually being a click sound created on the side of your mouth, in your cheek)
2. He comes from the Cape, which is where GRS is based
3. He speaks a ridiculous amount of languages from time spent in Jo'burg, and he moves between them like nobody's business.
4. Oh, and he's awesome.
Things we did while Tony was here (good examples of what makes him awesome)
1. We watched TONS of South African soap operas, and got me thoroughly addicted to a couple, which was his plot from the beginning. Tony would explain all the characters and subplots and drama so now I'm sufficiently able to watch and comprehend on my own. They are awesome to watch because beyond being entertaining, they also include a lot of social commentary as most of them take place in townships and they will speak up to a dozen languages in each episode, subtitles provided of course.
2. He introduced me to an awesome comedian: Trevor Noah. He is a Coloured South African (must do a post on the Coloured eventually, promise it's not racist) and is hilariously funny. His material also is a pretty good representation of how things work around here, from politics to culture to how the rest of the world sees South Africa. Here's a couple good youtube clips:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD3QhV2mpy8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6piqr-dOUP4
3. We had beer for dinner on Thurday night. I actually had cider. They have this great cider here called Savannah Dry, with the catchphrase being "It's dry, but you can drink it."
4. Thursday night was also the night we formed Team Paramount as we thoroughly dominated Tim and Andile in multiple rounds of pool (ok, maybe it was just two, but that's still multiple)
5. When the night started, we were the only people in the bar, but later on we were joined by a large group of Afrikaaners. We mainly kept to ourselves until some of the ladies dragged Andile and I onto the dancefloor on our way back from the bathroom. We quickly got the boys to join. But, it wasn't suffiicient that we were dancing with the drunk Afrikaaners, not to mention we were pretty toasty ourselves, Andile had to tell them that Tony and I were a couple just to egg them on and watch their shock and surprise. A little cruel, yes, but thoroughly entertaining.
6. To continue breaking racial barriers, Tony asked the most thoroughly drunk Afrikaaner woman to teach him how to dance like her (they were doing some rendition of the polka). She was more than happy to oblige in her inebriated state, and, damn, Tony totally held his own (there is a video, but it's taking way too long to download on this thing, will perhaps try on facebook because it's pretty priceless). Way to represent Team Paramount! What what!!!
Also to note: This woman's husband was sitting at the bar watching this all go down, none too pleased, which kind of made it even more awesome.
7. Saturday night we had a party for Tony, which included:
An awesome brie! (That's a barbecue, for all you Americans) Mmmmm! Doesn't that look good?!
An awesome dance party! It's pretty much a constant dance off with these people. Nonstop. Unbelievable. And the guys lead the way. There is no hesitation or humility. Everybody leaves everything out on the dance floor. Just the way I like it. :)
And they dance to this awesome South African house music:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yC6WbhHZdtU&feature=related
This is a good example. Black Coffee is one of the big groups here. It's pretty addictive.
And drunk swimming! I did not partake because, I'm not sure how well you can tell, but the water was pretty green due to an algae attack last week. I was drunk, but not that drunk.
And the night ended with a gangster moment. Priceless. Team Paramount plus Andile! Holler!
I have to give a shout out to all the people who took charge of my camera and documented that night. I personally hate having to take pictures, so I can't tell you how much I appreciate people taking on the job for me, and not to mention doing an awesome job!
Oh, and the other white people are Peace Corps volunteers from around the area. People try to introduce all the white kids in the area so we can have our own little support group. :) The Peace Corps kids more use us to have a break from their lives in the village and get a nice hot shower, a decent bed to sleep in, and a little social release, which I can totally relate to, so I try and invite them along to stuff.
The next morning, we woke up at 6:30 AM, to a call from TK asking us if we were ready to leave for the airport. Crap!!! Tim was the one that had to drive, so it was really his problem, especially being as he felt like death. Tony had mentioned that he was going to make me come, even if it meant carrying me from my bed to the car, but I hoped it had forgotten, especially in the rush to get ready. But, no. As I hear them running around, I hear Tony scream: "ROSE!!!!". Damn it. So I jumped in the car in my PJs, we picked up TK, and then busted our butts to Durban's King Shaka Airport, making it with time to spare thanks to Tim driving like a mad man. We are pretty sure we got one speeding ticket on the way there (they use a manned camera system here... more on that later), and barely avoided one on the way back in our desperation to get back to our beds as quickly as possible to pass out (remind me to tell you how they pull people over here, crazy talk).
Anyways, the night, and the whole week, was definitely a success. Tony has definitely made the ranks of coolest people ever. Team Paramount. Can't stop, won't stop.
1. He is Xhosa (pronounced Tosa, with the T actually being a click sound created on the side of your mouth, in your cheek)
2. He comes from the Cape, which is where GRS is based
3. He speaks a ridiculous amount of languages from time spent in Jo'burg, and he moves between them like nobody's business.
4. Oh, and he's awesome.
Things we did while Tony was here (good examples of what makes him awesome)
1. We watched TONS of South African soap operas, and got me thoroughly addicted to a couple, which was his plot from the beginning. Tony would explain all the characters and subplots and drama so now I'm sufficiently able to watch and comprehend on my own. They are awesome to watch because beyond being entertaining, they also include a lot of social commentary as most of them take place in townships and they will speak up to a dozen languages in each episode, subtitles provided of course.
2. He introduced me to an awesome comedian: Trevor Noah. He is a Coloured South African (must do a post on the Coloured eventually, promise it's not racist) and is hilariously funny. His material also is a pretty good representation of how things work around here, from politics to culture to how the rest of the world sees South Africa. Here's a couple good youtube clips:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD3QhV2mpy8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6piqr-dOUP4
3. We had beer for dinner on Thurday night. I actually had cider. They have this great cider here called Savannah Dry, with the catchphrase being "It's dry, but you can drink it."
4. Thursday night was also the night we formed Team Paramount as we thoroughly dominated Tim and Andile in multiple rounds of pool (ok, maybe it was just two, but that's still multiple)
6. To continue breaking racial barriers, Tony asked the most thoroughly drunk Afrikaaner woman to teach him how to dance like her (they were doing some rendition of the polka). She was more than happy to oblige in her inebriated state, and, damn, Tony totally held his own (there is a video, but it's taking way too long to download on this thing, will perhaps try on facebook because it's pretty priceless). Way to represent Team Paramount! What what!!!
Also to note: This woman's husband was sitting at the bar watching this all go down, none too pleased, which kind of made it even more awesome.
7. Saturday night we had a party for Tony, which included:
An awesome brie! (That's a barbecue, for all you Americans) Mmmmm! Doesn't that look good?!
And they dance to this awesome South African house music:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yC6WbhHZdtU&feature=related
This is a good example. Black Coffee is one of the big groups here. It's pretty addictive.
And drunk swimming! I did not partake because, I'm not sure how well you can tell, but the water was pretty green due to an algae attack last week. I was drunk, but not that drunk.
I have to give a shout out to all the people who took charge of my camera and documented that night. I personally hate having to take pictures, so I can't tell you how much I appreciate people taking on the job for me, and not to mention doing an awesome job!
Oh, and the other white people are Peace Corps volunteers from around the area. People try to introduce all the white kids in the area so we can have our own little support group. :) The Peace Corps kids more use us to have a break from their lives in the village and get a nice hot shower, a decent bed to sleep in, and a little social release, which I can totally relate to, so I try and invite them along to stuff.
The next morning, we woke up at 6:30 AM, to a call from TK asking us if we were ready to leave for the airport. Crap!!! Tim was the one that had to drive, so it was really his problem, especially being as he felt like death. Tony had mentioned that he was going to make me come, even if it meant carrying me from my bed to the car, but I hoped it had forgotten, especially in the rush to get ready. But, no. As I hear them running around, I hear Tony scream: "ROSE!!!!". Damn it. So I jumped in the car in my PJs, we picked up TK, and then busted our butts to Durban's King Shaka Airport, making it with time to spare thanks to Tim driving like a mad man. We are pretty sure we got one speeding ticket on the way there (they use a manned camera system here... more on that later), and barely avoided one on the way back in our desperation to get back to our beds as quickly as possible to pass out (remind me to tell you how they pull people over here, crazy talk).
Anyways, the night, and the whole week, was definitely a success. Tony has definitely made the ranks of coolest people ever. Team Paramount. Can't stop, won't stop.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Flow chart!
Today we had a big meeting at the DOH to present the OneSight clinic and all our work on it to all participating parties, including the Department of Education, all the regional hospitals, and municipalities. The highlight? This awesomely fantastic flowchart created by Christine to present the structure of the clinics:
How incredible is that?! That is what you attend Harvard's Kennedy School for people. Bad ass flowcharts. :)
Here's a little zoom in of where I fit in to all the amazingness:
There I am! The little maroon smiley face! Leading eye dilation! Woot woot!
In all honesty, I can only aspire to create such awesome flow sheets. For reals. Organizational genius. Priceless in the world of NGOs.
How incredible is that?! That is what you attend Harvard's Kennedy School for people. Bad ass flowcharts. :)
Here's a little zoom in of where I fit in to all the amazingness:
There I am! The little maroon smiley face! Leading eye dilation! Woot woot!
In all honesty, I can only aspire to create such awesome flow sheets. For reals. Organizational genius. Priceless in the world of NGOs.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Isihlahla!!!
I can't believe I have not introduced you to Isihlahla (pronounced "Shlanshla", means tree)!!!!!
This is Christine's most recent addition to her animal kingdom on the farm. This is on top of the new village dog, Itshe, she recently got to replace her dog that passed away. Itshe already tortures the other dogs and is the reason Shrek lives over here. But, THIS puppy is distantly related to her dog that passed away. :) Christine is such a softie/mama bear! And as adorable as Isihlahla is, she is also totally torturing the other dogs. She's a fiesty one! Gotta love her though! So freaking adorable!
This is Christine's most recent addition to her animal kingdom on the farm. This is on top of the new village dog, Itshe, she recently got to replace her dog that passed away. Itshe already tortures the other dogs and is the reason Shrek lives over here. But, THIS puppy is distantly related to her dog that passed away. :) Christine is such a softie/mama bear! And as adorable as Isihlahla is, she is also totally torturing the other dogs. She's a fiesty one! Gotta love her though! So freaking adorable!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Refering out
So we have a house guest here this week who is tons of fun (details to come later), so posts are probably gonna be short and sweet. Today I turn to my favorite, the New York Times. This article was printed last week and gives a pretty good sense of how things kinda work here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/27/world/africa/27safrica.html?_r=1&ref=africa
Enjoy!
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/27/world/africa/27safrica.html?_r=1&ref=africa
Enjoy!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Some African laughs...
This weekend Tim and I had our first opporunity to throw a few back with some of our local peers when our lovely coworker and friend Khethiwe (aka KT or Katie) invited us over to chill at her place with some friends and have some beers. It was super fun and everybody was incredibly welcoming and totally stoked on telling us about all the things we had to see and do while in South Africa, which was really cool of them. Once we got past all those formalities, we all started sharing stories and telling jokes, and I must say they had some pretty good ones. Warning: you have to have some sense, though minimal, of the ongoings of African politics for these to make sense. Also, not 100% appropriate.
So, a guy walks into a whorehouse and sits down at the bar. The bouncer watches him start chatting up one of the whores, buys her a drink, the whole nine yards, and then he whispers something in her ear, to which she responds with a slap in the face and says, "That's bloody revolting!" (sorry, have to use their awesome vocabulary to achieve the effect), and walks away. The bouncer then witnesses basically the same sequence with another prostitute, again with him whispering something in her ear, causing her to slap this guy, and walk off shouting "You're bloody disgusting!". So, now, the oldest whore in the place, who has been around the block a more than a few times, and done everyone and everything, has noticed these proceedings. She decides to go up to this guy and give it a whirl, because if there is anybody that is going to be willing to do something that is apparently so vile it was her. The bouncer watches as she approaches the man, and they go through all the formalities, chatting, he buys her a drink, and then he leans in and whispers something in her ear and she pulls back in horror, slaps him, and says "You got to be bloody ridiculous!". Now the bouncer is curious. What could of this guy had said/asked for that even THIS whore found insulting? So, he goes up to her and asks her what had this man said?!, to which she replies, "Can you believe it?! He wanted to pay in Zim dollars!"
Get it?!
So Mugabe dies, twenty years from now of course because you know that bloody bastard is gonna live forever (again gotta keep their tone for full effect :) ). So he arrives at the pearly gaits where St. Peter is waiting for him.
Mugabe: "I'm here to check in."
St. Peter: "Ah, yes, what's the name?"
Mugabe: "Robert Mugabe"
St. Peter: "Ah, yes, of course" He flips through his book, and finds Mugabe's name. Looks up. "As I thought. Just take the elevator right over there. It will take you down. Don't worry, it only goes to one place." Flashes him a quick smile and then turns to the next person in line.
Mugabe has realized his fate now and starts panicking. He gets in the elevator which takes him down to Hell and the Devil is waiting for him when he arrives.
Devil: "Name."
Mugabe: "Robert Mugabe."
Devil: Smirking and rubbing his hands together "Ah, yes, finally. I have been waiting for you. Come this way."
Mugabe: Thoroughly panicking now and trying to plot quickly to find any way out "Uh, actually, I just realized I left my bags up there, you know. Let me go get them and I'll be right back." Attempts to flash a casual smile.
Devil: Gives an evil chuckle. "Haha. No worries. I will just send a couple of my goblins up to get them for you. You come with me." An evil smile crawls across his face and he gets up and leads Mugabe into Hell.
The goblins are less than thrilled about their errand and get into the elevator disgruntled. When they get to the pearly gates, St. Peter is gone and there is a sign saying "Back in ten. Out for tea."
Goblin 1: "Oh great! Of course! Now what do we do?!"
The goblins discuss their options:
Goblin 2: "Well we can't just wait. The Devil will get pissed if we take too long."
Goblin 1: "But, we can't go back with no bags. If we come back without doing what we were told we are in even more trouble."
Goblin 2: "What if we just hop the gates and grab the bags? It will be real quick and for an innocent enough reason. And, plus, God sees all and so will understand why we're doing it."
Goblin 1: "Sounds reasonable. Ups-a-daisy" And they boost and hoist each other over the pearly gates.
St. Peter looks up from tea with his assistant and peers at the gates and sees the goblins scrambing over and says, "Jesus. It hasn't even been 15 minutes and we already have refugees."
Booya!
Ok, hope you get a few chuckles.
So, a guy walks into a whorehouse and sits down at the bar. The bouncer watches him start chatting up one of the whores, buys her a drink, the whole nine yards, and then he whispers something in her ear, to which she responds with a slap in the face and says, "That's bloody revolting!" (sorry, have to use their awesome vocabulary to achieve the effect), and walks away. The bouncer then witnesses basically the same sequence with another prostitute, again with him whispering something in her ear, causing her to slap this guy, and walk off shouting "You're bloody disgusting!". So, now, the oldest whore in the place, who has been around the block a more than a few times, and done everyone and everything, has noticed these proceedings. She decides to go up to this guy and give it a whirl, because if there is anybody that is going to be willing to do something that is apparently so vile it was her. The bouncer watches as she approaches the man, and they go through all the formalities, chatting, he buys her a drink, and then he leans in and whispers something in her ear and she pulls back in horror, slaps him, and says "You got to be bloody ridiculous!". Now the bouncer is curious. What could of this guy had said/asked for that even THIS whore found insulting? So, he goes up to her and asks her what had this man said?!, to which she replies, "Can you believe it?! He wanted to pay in Zim dollars!"
Get it?!
So Mugabe dies, twenty years from now of course because you know that bloody bastard is gonna live forever (again gotta keep their tone for full effect :) ). So he arrives at the pearly gaits where St. Peter is waiting for him.
Mugabe: "I'm here to check in."
St. Peter: "Ah, yes, what's the name?"
Mugabe: "Robert Mugabe"
St. Peter: "Ah, yes, of course" He flips through his book, and finds Mugabe's name. Looks up. "As I thought. Just take the elevator right over there. It will take you down. Don't worry, it only goes to one place." Flashes him a quick smile and then turns to the next person in line.
Mugabe has realized his fate now and starts panicking. He gets in the elevator which takes him down to Hell and the Devil is waiting for him when he arrives.
Devil: "Name."
Mugabe: "Robert Mugabe."
Devil: Smirking and rubbing his hands together "Ah, yes, finally. I have been waiting for you. Come this way."
Mugabe: Thoroughly panicking now and trying to plot quickly to find any way out "Uh, actually, I just realized I left my bags up there, you know. Let me go get them and I'll be right back." Attempts to flash a casual smile.
Devil: Gives an evil chuckle. "Haha. No worries. I will just send a couple of my goblins up to get them for you. You come with me." An evil smile crawls across his face and he gets up and leads Mugabe into Hell.
The goblins are less than thrilled about their errand and get into the elevator disgruntled. When they get to the pearly gates, St. Peter is gone and there is a sign saying "Back in ten. Out for tea."
Goblin 1: "Oh great! Of course! Now what do we do?!"
The goblins discuss their options:
Goblin 2: "Well we can't just wait. The Devil will get pissed if we take too long."
Goblin 1: "But, we can't go back with no bags. If we come back without doing what we were told we are in even more trouble."
Goblin 2: "What if we just hop the gates and grab the bags? It will be real quick and for an innocent enough reason. And, plus, God sees all and so will understand why we're doing it."
Goblin 1: "Sounds reasonable. Ups-a-daisy" And they boost and hoist each other over the pearly gates.
St. Peter looks up from tea with his assistant and peers at the gates and sees the goblins scrambing over and says, "Jesus. It hasn't even been 15 minutes and we already have refugees."
Booya!
Ok, hope you get a few chuckles.
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