Sorry for the delay. Things have been quite hectic pretty much from the moment we left and are going to continue in that vein for awhile... but, we'll get to that...
Sooooooo Cape Town. Probably best described as a bender. Didn't really have the opportunity to take a lot of pictures, but here's a few highlights:
Day 1: Soccer Game! US won 1-0!!!! Woot woot! Ok so the soccer was kind of crappy but the stadium was un-freaking-believable! Really, truly gorgeous! And the obnoxious American fans were represented well. And of course... Team Paramount REUNITED!!!!!! I even got to meet Tony's little boy. So freaking adorable!
Day 2: Hanging out at the intern house, a total college house on the inside (7 people with three bathrooms), located in a beautiful neighborhood with adorable, little streets that we walked around, could of sworn I was in Europe. Oh yeah, and they have a ridiculous view of Table Mountain. Unbelievable. Absolutely breathtaking. Hey, at least I got to see it. Will have to return for the climb. Confirmed a guy passed out half in the street was alive. Go team. Got some awesome quiche and cappuccino (Cape Town has a total cafe culture, which was to die for- yes, I realize I sound like a snoot, deal with it, slash I was eating quiche and cappuccino with a bunch of American jock males so ha). Went and hung out in a beautiful local park, super euro again. Exposed to the colored culture of Cape Town, very distinct, with their own dialect of Afrikaans, missing front teeth (oh, yes, on purpose), and very aggressive with their interactions with whites. Creates a very different dynamic amongst the races than in other urban areas of South Africa. GATSBIES! Ridiculous, ginormous sandwiches found in the township, with everything, and I mean everything, on it, including french fries and enough mayonnaise to swim in. For dinner: an Oreo milkshake- a little taste of home. TRIVIA NIGHT! I think we came in second to last. We started out strong and then hit some roadblocks when it came to sections of naming South African political officials. False promises of questions targeted towards the international crowd! Continued the night out which ended up with dancing at a hip hop club called Jo'burg, oh and don't forget the stop for late night Boerwurst from a street vendor. Couldn't of been happier.
Day 3: More chilling, more good food. Got to check out the Grassroot Soccer office, very fancy pants, definitely different vibe, a lot of white people, a lot of Americans. Seems like they have a good thing going though, but definitely different experience for volunteers. Tim took me on what I think was the only sight seeing I did the whole time on our walk back from the office. Truly a beautiful city, green, spectacular architecture, with lots of history, reminded me a lot of Europe. Good old (not to mention amazing!) hamburgers for dinner. And then went to a dance club with EIGHTIES MUSIC!!!! The DJ was on fire!! One amazing song after another!! And, not to mention, the dance floor was surrounded with mirrors, which if you know me, is like a dream come true. So basically we were this group of toolish Americans screaming out every single word to every single song and dancing with ourselves in the mirrors. And it was amazing! Highlight had to be "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey.
Day 4: We had some recovering to do, which included brunch where I consumed some really awesome ostrich'wurst. It was kind of a lazy day, gray weather, so we opted to watch some soccer at an Irish pub. And then another crazy night out. We started at a college bar where I felt really, really old and really, really claustrophobic, which led to me throwing 'bows to protect my personal space and almost getting into a few fights. Oops! Whatever, if you expect me to move when you put all your weight on me, you got another thing coming, I'm stronger than I look, and I push back. From there, we moved on to more dancing and ridiculousness. We returned home after the boys stuffed their faces with street/gas station food. They then proceeded to strip to their skivvies and have a late night dance party on my "bed" aka couch, which is when I opted to pass out in an empty bed for a few hours of sleep before our flight home
What I walked away with: It's different, very, very different. Not so much Africa. Another one of their friends who is working in Malawi was visiting and we kept making jokes about "Where are all the black people?" and how it's "Africa lite". I actually felt very out of place with all the white people. But, it was fun, so much fun. And absolutely beautiful. It was cool how every bar and restaurant was some cool, fun, hip, funky place, like what would be considered a special find in any urban area in the US, but here it was every single place you walked into. It was awesome. You could of told me we were in New York, DC, LA, San Fran, and I would of easily believed you. Definitely a trip. Due to my lack of tourist activities this time around, I now have a good excuse to return. And I made some awesome friends there who know how to have a good time, hence the dancing basically every night. So all in all, a good trip and a nice break from the Mtuba, but was definitely happy to be back. Couldn't believe how much I missed rural, farm life! Me! An urban, city girl! Who'd a thunk?
Since then things have not slowed down. With Thanksgiving on Thursday, we started housing guests on Wednesday, with a few still with us. We had a HUGE, traditional Thanksgiving meal, with fourteen Americans, three turkeys, three types of stuffing, and god knows how many side dishes. Freaking amazing. Then our weekend to recover turned into an accidental rager last night. They literally brought the township to our farm, freaking ridiculous. I finally had to kick them out at 5 am. And tomorrow I leave for another five days to begin our two weeks of OneSight Clinics. Damn G! The light at the end of the tunnel is my luxurious four week vacay that follows! Holler! Gotta love African summer vacation! :) Happy holidays!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Barbra Streisand...
So, Tim and I are heading to Cape Town tomorrow for a long weekend! Woot woot! And we are starting out the weekend with a friendly football (as in soccer) match between the US and South Africa! What what! Hells yes! Be jealous! It's gonna be fantastically awesome! So, a little something to start out the weekend:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu_zwdmz0hE
This song hit the scene about two weeks ago and has become HUGE. And I'm totally obsessed.
Also, the Cape Town folk are going to be especially grateful to see Tim in one piece after this was sent today:
Clearly we are getting a lot done in the office. Too much fun. But, hysterically awesome.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu_zwdmz0hE
This song hit the scene about two weeks ago and has become HUGE. And I'm totally obsessed.
Also, the Cape Town folk are going to be especially grateful to see Tim in one piece after this was sent today:
Dear Kirk,
Mpilonhle is very concerned about the delays of the grant. Mpilonhle therefore decided to take more drastic measures to put you and USAID under pressure to provide us with the money. We very much like our grass roots soccer intern Tim. He is in very good health right now, and you might want to keep it that way! Please note that currently Tim is held captive in an undisclosed location behind the ABSA bank in Mtubatuba.
All the best,
Christine
Clearly we are getting a lot done in the office. Too much fun. But, hysterically awesome.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Cliffhanger...
After a long day in the office today and a big meeting tomorrow, I can't really think straight, and definitely can't really wrap my head around things like love and death, so I've decided to extend my series over a few weeks. :) Hope you don't mind. I also realize that I kind of regurgitated loads of information in my last post, which will also probably be the case with the next couple in the series, so I wanted to invite any questions. I would love to answer what I can or expand on any issues that you are curious about. It would be really cool to get a back-and-forth going on here. There is definitely a lot to talk about.
More tomorrow when I'm all here...
More tomorrow when I'm all here...
Sunday, November 14, 2010
All's fair in love and war...
So, I realized I have not had the chance to talk about two major aspects of culture here that are important pieces in understanding the larger society. I have definitely referenced them once or twice, but I think it's worth taking some time to explore them more deeply. First of all, dating (aka love) and second, death (which here can be thought of as war, but we will get to that...). And they are more interrelated than you might think. This will be a two part series, starting with dating. My disclaimer is that these are both things that I am still constantly learning about, so this is just my perspective up until this point, two months in. (Can you believe it?! Two months?!)
I have definitely discussed some of the ins and outs of dating and relationships here, even from the beginning, with TK and his family situation, and then some of my personal experiences, such as at the umemulo, as well as some references in my "You know you live in Africa when..." series. It is important to note that dating is handled differently in different environments, between rural, town, and city, and among the different socioeconomic classes as well, which makes sense. We have these same discrepancies in our own culture. I am lucky enough to get a little taste of everything, with a lot of my friends from work having grown up in more urban areas and are pretty highly educated (nurses, social workers, etc) and then we work with populations, with whom we have discussions about relationships, sex, etc, that are very rural and often have limited education, providing another perspective.
The basics: Being in a relationship is standard. The idea of Tim and I not being in a relationship is mind boggling. "You mean, you don't have someone waiting for you at home?" Nope. Tim and I have talked a lot about this and we have decided it's related to people always needing to have companionship. They always keep themselves surrounded by people. We think that this is somehow related to mortality issues, which will be discussed in the next part of the series. See?! Already interconnected. The concept of being alone is pretty frightening to them. Like they were so concerned about me living here without Tim the first week, or when he's away for a bit. Yes, it's partly about safety, but they always also ask "Aren't you lonely?". Like they don't understand why we would ever seek out time alone, they don't see the value in this. It explains a lot of why they feel so comfortable dropping in and staying awhile, which caught me off guard at first, but now I understand it's the thought of "Why wouldn't you want more people around you?". I'm trying to teach them that dogs are a great replacement for people when dealing with loneliness but it's a hard sell. Dogs are animals here pretty much. :) Anyway, a significant other is pretty much a perma-companion. Part of the commitment is always being there when you need them, so a nice safety net. Brings a sense of comfort.
Now, let us remember that the whole time that these people were assuming that Tim and I had significant others/were having a hard time grasping the fact we didn't, they continued to try and set us up. Because why not get some while you're here, and then you still have that guy waiting for you back home? That brings us to the second point, cheating is standard. This is especially true for men, but I see it with women as well. So, basically, you have this significant other you are committed to, but you go out and sleep with/lead relationships with other people. These other people can be one night stands or regular things, often old flames, that can either know that they are playing second fiddle or are also given the title "girlfriend". Now, they are not shy about this, except around their significant other. Like they don't really try and hide the affair from others. Bringing other girls around their friends, etc. Like I made the major mistake at our first party of meeting a girl that was being affectionate with a friend of mine who I knew to have a girlfriend and saying: "Oh! You must be (fill in the blank)'s girlfriend!". Nope. Oops. She laughed, "No, no, I'm his 'good friend'. " Aaaah. Gotcha. And I'm sitting there looking around at everybody, noting all of our friends, and how I've seen them greet his girlfriend and be friendly with her, like they are all buddies. But, they don't say a word. This is totally kosher. No big deal. And these friends aren't all other guys. It's girls, too. It's not just a boys club thing. It's an everybody thing. Tim has some pretty funny stories with this guy too, like picking up ex-girlfriends, going out to drinks under the guise of being with Tim, make-out sessions with said ex-girlfriend in the back of the car while Tim's driving. Oh dear. And it's not just him. It's all of them. I was asking about another friend's girlfriend to one of our mutual female friends and she was like, "I don't know her that well. But, I know his SECOND girlfriend pretty well, and she's cool." Cool. Awesome. And he's supposed to be the sweet one.
From the female perspective, you have guys hitting on you left and right, even when you blatantly know they have a girlfriend. "But, you have a girlfriend?" "So? I want to make you feel good." Ummmm... No. Oh, and if they say they don't have a girlfriend, they probably do. They all have girlfriends. But, doesn't stop from them from trying. Gotta give them props for their persistence.
So, the women don't know, but they know, you know what I mean? Like it's obvious that this is what men do, because they don't hide it and it's in front of our faces all the time. But, guys go through leaps and bounds to hide it from whatever woman/en they are particularly committed to at the time. And it appears that they believe it, to a point, because they stay with these guys. So, when you are talking to women about relationships in general and how it all works, they all very nonchalantly talk about how everybody cheats and its the norm, blah blah blah, nothing new and exciting, no big deal. And when we are around guys, even our friends, and they are with girls who are obviously not their girlfriends, and I'll say, "Ummmm... that's not his girlfriend?", (Which, btw, I don't do anymore, quickly learned that, like within a week) I usually get in reply: "Yeah. Uh huh.", barely an acknowledgment, at the most, an eye roll towards the guy. Like, yeah, whatever, his problem. Apparently it is all explained by men's abundance of sexual needs and lack of control. Like there is nothing we can do about that, it is what it is. So, we know about it, and apparently accept it at some level, at least in the big picture. But, then when it affects you personally, and perhaps a close friend or relative, then it hurts. Then there is sadness and anger. And it isn't pretty. Trust me.
It's funny. At first, I envied them. How they all were like, "Yeah, they cheat, no big deal. They're pigs and we deal with their shit". I was like, power to ya! Don't let them get you down! Yes, sure, accepting it is not the best strategy, but in a society where men are often essential for economic reasons, I respected that these women didn't take this male behavior personally, as a reflection of themselves, but rather it was just what men did, part of their make-up. They had nothing to do with it, and could do nothing about it. But, then I realized, after pursuing personal stories rather than just big picture attitudes, that they do REALLY care and are VERY hurt by it. I'm not sure if it's a belief that they can change him or that this one is different. I'm still trying to understand that aspect. But, I can tell you, they believe their man is not cheating on them like the rest of them, and when they find out otherwise, they are devastated, heartbroken. Kind of an f-ed up cycle.
Now, Tim and I feel like we have found an obvious solution to all of this. Of course! It's so simple! They just need to learn how to date. :) It astounds them that Tim and I have been with people that have not been part of committed relationships. Like you can be seeing multiple people at once and it's not cheating. No! What?! Crazy talk. Oh, but yes, it's true. But, how does it work? They key is that you and the other people you are seeing have agreed that you can both be seeing other people. Wait, what? This seems like a ridiculous concept to them and they still don't understand how this isn't cheating. I'm telling you, this is the solution to all their problems, and would bring more equality into the mix and let more women get out there more. Ok, so it's obviously not that simple, but it's an idea. As mentioned above, they are very attached to this idea of having a COMMITTED relationship. I think it holds a sense of safety for them. Being single is scary, scary stuff. I mean, who wants to be single and alone?
Another option that I've observed a lot of more educated women have been opting for is sleeping with other women. It's a trend I associate with them just being fed-up with the male machismo here. They realize they are better than that and deserve more, so they go out and find more, with a female partner in a similar situation, creating a loving relationship with equality. Though I will give the disclaimer that they are not immune to infidelity either. Homosexuality is an interesting topic here, with some of the most liberal legislation in the world concerning homosexuality but accompanied by the awful stigma associated with a traditional, religious, and uneducated society. I've had the privilege of getting to know some of these ladies and hanging out with them and have learned a lot. I think it is worthy of its own post. In due time. Especially since I've said so much here already. Eish. Maybe this will be a multi-part series? Cause there is still so much to talk about dating, including how children and marriage fit into all of this.
I will leave you with one anecdote, part of my inspiration for this piece:
So Tim and I have started playing tennis with some of our co-workers (details in another post, I promise). My first day out I was partnered with our friend Musa. We had a good set and he was very excited and was telling everyone how I would from now on always be his partner. Forever and ever. Always. Every time. The next week, he didn't show. And our co-worker Johnathan was laughing and laughing, being like, "Remember how just like week he was saying he would always be your partner? And where is he now?" To which I responded, "Well, Johnathan, isn't that just like a South African man? Promising to be there always and forever and then he doesn't show up?". His wife started hysterically laughing. :)
I have definitely discussed some of the ins and outs of dating and relationships here, even from the beginning, with TK and his family situation, and then some of my personal experiences, such as at the umemulo, as well as some references in my "You know you live in Africa when..." series. It is important to note that dating is handled differently in different environments, between rural, town, and city, and among the different socioeconomic classes as well, which makes sense. We have these same discrepancies in our own culture. I am lucky enough to get a little taste of everything, with a lot of my friends from work having grown up in more urban areas and are pretty highly educated (nurses, social workers, etc) and then we work with populations, with whom we have discussions about relationships, sex, etc, that are very rural and often have limited education, providing another perspective.
The basics: Being in a relationship is standard. The idea of Tim and I not being in a relationship is mind boggling. "You mean, you don't have someone waiting for you at home?" Nope. Tim and I have talked a lot about this and we have decided it's related to people always needing to have companionship. They always keep themselves surrounded by people. We think that this is somehow related to mortality issues, which will be discussed in the next part of the series. See?! Already interconnected. The concept of being alone is pretty frightening to them. Like they were so concerned about me living here without Tim the first week, or when he's away for a bit. Yes, it's partly about safety, but they always also ask "Aren't you lonely?". Like they don't understand why we would ever seek out time alone, they don't see the value in this. It explains a lot of why they feel so comfortable dropping in and staying awhile, which caught me off guard at first, but now I understand it's the thought of "Why wouldn't you want more people around you?". I'm trying to teach them that dogs are a great replacement for people when dealing with loneliness but it's a hard sell. Dogs are animals here pretty much. :) Anyway, a significant other is pretty much a perma-companion. Part of the commitment is always being there when you need them, so a nice safety net. Brings a sense of comfort.
Now, let us remember that the whole time that these people were assuming that Tim and I had significant others/were having a hard time grasping the fact we didn't, they continued to try and set us up. Because why not get some while you're here, and then you still have that guy waiting for you back home? That brings us to the second point, cheating is standard. This is especially true for men, but I see it with women as well. So, basically, you have this significant other you are committed to, but you go out and sleep with/lead relationships with other people. These other people can be one night stands or regular things, often old flames, that can either know that they are playing second fiddle or are also given the title "girlfriend". Now, they are not shy about this, except around their significant other. Like they don't really try and hide the affair from others. Bringing other girls around their friends, etc. Like I made the major mistake at our first party of meeting a girl that was being affectionate with a friend of mine who I knew to have a girlfriend and saying: "Oh! You must be (fill in the blank)'s girlfriend!". Nope. Oops. She laughed, "No, no, I'm his 'good friend'. " Aaaah. Gotcha. And I'm sitting there looking around at everybody, noting all of our friends, and how I've seen them greet his girlfriend and be friendly with her, like they are all buddies. But, they don't say a word. This is totally kosher. No big deal. And these friends aren't all other guys. It's girls, too. It's not just a boys club thing. It's an everybody thing. Tim has some pretty funny stories with this guy too, like picking up ex-girlfriends, going out to drinks under the guise of being with Tim, make-out sessions with said ex-girlfriend in the back of the car while Tim's driving. Oh dear. And it's not just him. It's all of them. I was asking about another friend's girlfriend to one of our mutual female friends and she was like, "I don't know her that well. But, I know his SECOND girlfriend pretty well, and she's cool." Cool. Awesome. And he's supposed to be the sweet one.
From the female perspective, you have guys hitting on you left and right, even when you blatantly know they have a girlfriend. "But, you have a girlfriend?" "So? I want to make you feel good." Ummmm... No. Oh, and if they say they don't have a girlfriend, they probably do. They all have girlfriends. But, doesn't stop from them from trying. Gotta give them props for their persistence.
So, the women don't know, but they know, you know what I mean? Like it's obvious that this is what men do, because they don't hide it and it's in front of our faces all the time. But, guys go through leaps and bounds to hide it from whatever woman/en they are particularly committed to at the time. And it appears that they believe it, to a point, because they stay with these guys. So, when you are talking to women about relationships in general and how it all works, they all very nonchalantly talk about how everybody cheats and its the norm, blah blah blah, nothing new and exciting, no big deal. And when we are around guys, even our friends, and they are with girls who are obviously not their girlfriends, and I'll say, "Ummmm... that's not his girlfriend?", (Which, btw, I don't do anymore, quickly learned that, like within a week) I usually get in reply: "Yeah. Uh huh.", barely an acknowledgment, at the most, an eye roll towards the guy. Like, yeah, whatever, his problem. Apparently it is all explained by men's abundance of sexual needs and lack of control. Like there is nothing we can do about that, it is what it is. So, we know about it, and apparently accept it at some level, at least in the big picture. But, then when it affects you personally, and perhaps a close friend or relative, then it hurts. Then there is sadness and anger. And it isn't pretty. Trust me.
It's funny. At first, I envied them. How they all were like, "Yeah, they cheat, no big deal. They're pigs and we deal with their shit". I was like, power to ya! Don't let them get you down! Yes, sure, accepting it is not the best strategy, but in a society where men are often essential for economic reasons, I respected that these women didn't take this male behavior personally, as a reflection of themselves, but rather it was just what men did, part of their make-up. They had nothing to do with it, and could do nothing about it. But, then I realized, after pursuing personal stories rather than just big picture attitudes, that they do REALLY care and are VERY hurt by it. I'm not sure if it's a belief that they can change him or that this one is different. I'm still trying to understand that aspect. But, I can tell you, they believe their man is not cheating on them like the rest of them, and when they find out otherwise, they are devastated, heartbroken. Kind of an f-ed up cycle.
Now, Tim and I feel like we have found an obvious solution to all of this. Of course! It's so simple! They just need to learn how to date. :) It astounds them that Tim and I have been with people that have not been part of committed relationships. Like you can be seeing multiple people at once and it's not cheating. No! What?! Crazy talk. Oh, but yes, it's true. But, how does it work? They key is that you and the other people you are seeing have agreed that you can both be seeing other people. Wait, what? This seems like a ridiculous concept to them and they still don't understand how this isn't cheating. I'm telling you, this is the solution to all their problems, and would bring more equality into the mix and let more women get out there more. Ok, so it's obviously not that simple, but it's an idea. As mentioned above, they are very attached to this idea of having a COMMITTED relationship. I think it holds a sense of safety for them. Being single is scary, scary stuff. I mean, who wants to be single and alone?
Another option that I've observed a lot of more educated women have been opting for is sleeping with other women. It's a trend I associate with them just being fed-up with the male machismo here. They realize they are better than that and deserve more, so they go out and find more, with a female partner in a similar situation, creating a loving relationship with equality. Though I will give the disclaimer that they are not immune to infidelity either. Homosexuality is an interesting topic here, with some of the most liberal legislation in the world concerning homosexuality but accompanied by the awful stigma associated with a traditional, religious, and uneducated society. I've had the privilege of getting to know some of these ladies and hanging out with them and have learned a lot. I think it is worthy of its own post. In due time. Especially since I've said so much here already. Eish. Maybe this will be a multi-part series? Cause there is still so much to talk about dating, including how children and marriage fit into all of this.
I will leave you with one anecdote, part of my inspiration for this piece:
So Tim and I have started playing tennis with some of our co-workers (details in another post, I promise). My first day out I was partnered with our friend Musa. We had a good set and he was very excited and was telling everyone how I would from now on always be his partner. Forever and ever. Always. Every time. The next week, he didn't show. And our co-worker Johnathan was laughing and laughing, being like, "Remember how just like week he was saying he would always be your partner? And where is he now?" To which I responded, "Well, Johnathan, isn't that just like a South African man? Promising to be there always and forever and then he doesn't show up?". His wife started hysterically laughing. :)
Thursday, November 11, 2010
PRADO!
So, there's good news and bad news. Which do you want first?
I also go with the bad news first, get it over with quick, like a band aid, and then finish with something sweet.
Ok, bad news: the big purple bus is on the outs. Not sure if it's gonna make it... I know, sad. :( Tim and I are keeping our hopes up, but I think we both know that the chance is slim that she makes it. Our baby!
So, what could possibly be the good news? Well, while we got a ride with Mike and Christine on Monday, they went to Jo'burg for a few days leaving us stranded, but, oh wait! What is this?! Mike is going to lend us his Prado so we can get to work and such?! Oh hells yes! Why is this so exciting, you ask? Well because it has automatic capabilities, which means little old me can drive it. Woot woot! And Tim humored me the last few days, letting me do all the driving. I have to say being able to drive gives me a huge dose of independence which is incredibly refreshing.
Driving here has also been my first time driving on the left. Surprisingly easy. Having the driver's seat on the right actually makes it amazingly natural. I wouldn't say I'm quite ready for major city driving, but feeling pretty goods on the rough roads of Mtubatuba. Oh, that's the other thing that's supes fun about driving here, a lot of dirt roads, four wheeling and such, and it's been especially exciting with all the rain.
Though, I think my favorite part of the adventure was getting to flash my hazards after someone moved towards the shoulder to let me pass. Woo! Now I'm a real South African! I thought I would take this opportunity to talk about some of the other interesting little quirks of South African driving. Let's start with people flashing their brights as a "You're welcome!" in response to your "Thank you!" hazards flash. Tim and I discussed how we should flash our hazards again as a "No! YOU'RE welcome!". :) Flashing brights means another thing when you see them coming from an oncoming car. In that case they are warning you of something ahead, for example, an accident. But, usually, they are warning you of a speed trap, which is amazingly awesome. It's a total "Fight the man!" move. Everybody speeds and everybody is in support of it, including the slow drivers, except for the mofo police. But, don't worry, we look out for each other, we got each others back. I love it!
Though, the best part may be how the police manage a speed trap. And yes, we have some personal experience with this. Don't judge. A speed trap comes in two forms. First, there is the guy standing with a camera who snaps your photo and then sends the ticket, well I suppose the government sends you the ticket. Kind of like what we have with red lights and I think also on some highways. But these are manned cameras, not automated. Anything to create a job and keep one more person employed. And you would think they would take advantage of them being people operated and therefore mobile. But, no. They are always in the same spot, staking people out. So, you learn where they are and just slow down. Slash people flash their brights. Clearly these speed traps are real effective.
Now the second form is the best form. Here they stand on the side of the road, and if you are speeding, which I am pretty convinced they mainly judge subjectively just by the looks of it, they stop you. Now how do they stop you if they are standing out on the side of the road, you ask? Do they jump into their badass squad car and chase after you? Oh no, my friends. Much, much better. They literally step out into the middle of the road and stand at attention with their hand out while your vehicle is hurling at them at ridiculous speeds (hence why they feel the need to stop you). Yes, that's right. They just stand right in front of your car, right in the middle of your lane. Now you pray you aren't going too fast and that your brakes are in good enough condition so that you can stop in time, because otherwise, if you can't stop, you will more than likely kill a policeman, which can't be good. I had quite the scare the first time I witnessed it. I wanted to just shake the police officer, "Are you out of your mind?! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to step in front of a moving car?!" I have to say the police here are pretty used to life-threatening activities with all the violent crime and what not, so this cheating death thing is probably just old hat for them.
And now, Mike and Christine are back, so no more Prado. :( Until next time, Prado... Now there is nothing to dull the pain of the big purple bus... So sad! But, we will always have the memories! I will be sure to keep you posted on the prognosis of our little purple bubby!
I also go with the bad news first, get it over with quick, like a band aid, and then finish with something sweet.
Ok, bad news: the big purple bus is on the outs. Not sure if it's gonna make it... I know, sad. :( Tim and I are keeping our hopes up, but I think we both know that the chance is slim that she makes it. Our baby!
So, what could possibly be the good news? Well, while we got a ride with Mike and Christine on Monday, they went to Jo'burg for a few days leaving us stranded, but, oh wait! What is this?! Mike is going to lend us his Prado so we can get to work and such?! Oh hells yes! Why is this so exciting, you ask? Well because it has automatic capabilities, which means little old me can drive it. Woot woot! And Tim humored me the last few days, letting me do all the driving. I have to say being able to drive gives me a huge dose of independence which is incredibly refreshing.
Driving here has also been my first time driving on the left. Surprisingly easy. Having the driver's seat on the right actually makes it amazingly natural. I wouldn't say I'm quite ready for major city driving, but feeling pretty goods on the rough roads of Mtubatuba. Oh, that's the other thing that's supes fun about driving here, a lot of dirt roads, four wheeling and such, and it's been especially exciting with all the rain.
Though, I think my favorite part of the adventure was getting to flash my hazards after someone moved towards the shoulder to let me pass. Woo! Now I'm a real South African! I thought I would take this opportunity to talk about some of the other interesting little quirks of South African driving. Let's start with people flashing their brights as a "You're welcome!" in response to your "Thank you!" hazards flash. Tim and I discussed how we should flash our hazards again as a "No! YOU'RE welcome!". :) Flashing brights means another thing when you see them coming from an oncoming car. In that case they are warning you of something ahead, for example, an accident. But, usually, they are warning you of a speed trap, which is amazingly awesome. It's a total "Fight the man!" move. Everybody speeds and everybody is in support of it, including the slow drivers, except for the mofo police. But, don't worry, we look out for each other, we got each others back. I love it!
Though, the best part may be how the police manage a speed trap. And yes, we have some personal experience with this. Don't judge. A speed trap comes in two forms. First, there is the guy standing with a camera who snaps your photo and then sends the ticket, well I suppose the government sends you the ticket. Kind of like what we have with red lights and I think also on some highways. But these are manned cameras, not automated. Anything to create a job and keep one more person employed. And you would think they would take advantage of them being people operated and therefore mobile. But, no. They are always in the same spot, staking people out. So, you learn where they are and just slow down. Slash people flash their brights. Clearly these speed traps are real effective.
Now the second form is the best form. Here they stand on the side of the road, and if you are speeding, which I am pretty convinced they mainly judge subjectively just by the looks of it, they stop you. Now how do they stop you if they are standing out on the side of the road, you ask? Do they jump into their badass squad car and chase after you? Oh no, my friends. Much, much better. They literally step out into the middle of the road and stand at attention with their hand out while your vehicle is hurling at them at ridiculous speeds (hence why they feel the need to stop you). Yes, that's right. They just stand right in front of your car, right in the middle of your lane. Now you pray you aren't going too fast and that your brakes are in good enough condition so that you can stop in time, because otherwise, if you can't stop, you will more than likely kill a policeman, which can't be good. I had quite the scare the first time I witnessed it. I wanted to just shake the police officer, "Are you out of your mind?! Didn't your mother ever tell you not to step in front of a moving car?!" I have to say the police here are pretty used to life-threatening activities with all the violent crime and what not, so this cheating death thing is probably just old hat for them.
And now, Mike and Christine are back, so no more Prado. :( Until next time, Prado... Now there is nothing to dull the pain of the big purple bus... So sad! But, we will always have the memories! I will be sure to keep you posted on the prognosis of our little purple bubby!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
And then...
... Andile came to pick me up. But, not before there was some fun drama about her car not starting, that I was later to find out was because she had run down her battery the night before blasting music from her car while partying at her house. Way to go Andi. That little anecdote in and of itself pretty much sums up Andile. She loves to party, is slightly reckless, but things always work out in her favor, because basically she has a deal with the devil. Yeah, that's right. Not only was she able to get her car started with a little help, the guy thought she was cute and so didn't charge her because she agreed to call him the next day. Way to go Andi. Did she learn anything from this experience? Like how she probably shouldn't use her car as a sound system? Nope, probably not. And that's Andile. The world is her oyster and she definitely takes the bull by the horns. How many idioms can I use to describe this girl? Andile is one of our social workers at Mpilonhle (on some level, a funny job for someone of her character) and also one of my closest friends here, always inviting me to come along and guaranteeing a good time (you might remember her from the umemulo or 21st birthday party she brought me to). And she always takes care of me, checking up on me, having answers to all my questions, and looking out for me, for example. she is the one that came all the way up to the farm and surprised me with a cake on my birthday. What an amazing friend! And it's nice to have someone with her qualities on your side. :)
This Saturday we were off to Richards Bay to a basketball tournament that Andile was playing in. It was fun to be around basketball. As much as I love soccer, basketball is my first love. I even got to shoot some hoops myself which was really fun. And they were bumping some awesome hip-hop which was supes cool. We also did a lot of driving /errands, like ice and alcohol runs. Aka, welcome to Africa, and lots and lots of driving. Just when things were heating up in the tournament, the rain came. Boo! I can't complain too much though because while they figured out the next move for the tournament, there was a badass freestyle battle. No, I did not participate. I didn't want to steal all the glory with my mad skills. :)
Just as Andile and I were about to peace, they made moves to transfer the tournament to an indoor gym. Next thing I know, we were on the road again, this time to the University of Kwazulu-Natal's gym. We got there in time to watch an awesome boys game between a local under 25 team and their opponents from Swaziland (the Swazis are the ones with swanky uniforms).
Between games I was introduced to a "nice guy" they were trying to set me up with. And as lovely as he was (he was actually the nicest and most polite guy I've met here), he insisted on distracting me from the girls' game which Andile was playing in, and was the actual reason for my presence. Well, they ended up getting smashed by the Swazi team, so it might of been a blessing I didn't have to watch the massacre. I was able to get a couple shots:
But, just as the game was ending, literally with like four seconds to go, I hear the guy say "Oooph, she looks hurt," looking past me. I of course was looking the other way, trying to stay engaged in the conversation, and therefore missed the entire thing. I look back and see a girl down. My new buddy, who recently learned I was a medical student, suggested "Should you go down there?", to which I responded, "No, no. They will get me if they need me..." And then... no more than five seconds later... "Jess, Jess, come here!". Oh great. I quickly moved my way through the crowd and down to the floor to whispers of "Who's a doctor? Oh! She's a doctor?! Oh. She's a doctor." I get down there to people claiming her shoulder is dislocated. Great. Musculoskeletal. My favorite. In my quick initial assessment I conclude that she isn't going to die, but is in some major pain and some shock from the whole event. I decide to move her out of the gym and the hub-bub of the crowd, which was easier said then done, being as this was an African gym and under construction, so it was a little bit of a hike with some obstacles. When we finally got her out into the fresh air I was able to convince myself it wasn't dislocated, but with some limited range of motion, she could of potentially torn something, like her rotator cuff. The major challenge to the assessment was the patient's distress. She was pretty much wigging out to the point that I was afraid she was going to hyperventilate herself. I tried to get her to do some breathing exercises with some success. I felt secure that she didn't need to go a hospital that second and could last the night with some ibuprofen (which I popped her 800 mg of), ice and some rest. But, her sister, Andile's good friend, was pretty shaken up by the whole situation and opted to go to the clinic. Probably not a bad idea being as the one thing she said that concerned me was that her arm felt tingly, making me think it was possible that she could of dislocated it and re-located it, pinching a nerve. So, off we went to the clinic, Andile driving, and me and the sister supporting the patient, which was more reassurance than anything. Poor girly, she was just scared and in pain.
Now we were on a hunt for an open clinic at 6:30 pm on a Saturday, not an easy feat in rural South Africa. We had a couple hits and misses and ended up at a strip mall with me more than confused. Apparently we were heading to a clinic in the back of a local pharmacy. Sounded less than promising to me when looking at this poor girl in pain, which was an accurate assumption. All the other patients waiting let us move to the front of the line after they saw our poor patient. The nurse took one look at her, tried to move her arm an inch, which was received by a bawl, and immediately directed us to the hospital. So, we called the ambulance. This is another new concept for me. Apparently whenever you need a ride to the hospital, urgent or not, you call the ambulance. The nurse expressed her concern to me that the ambulance was going to be a long wait, over a half an hour. Half an hour?! Seriously?! I convinced the crowd that we should transport ourselves in some manner to the hospital. So back in the car, with a snack on the way, and up to the government hospital.
Man, the government hospital was a trip. The first patient we saw when we walked in was a guy standing up, covered in blood, holding an IV bag he was hooked up to, with a giant bandage over his eye. God, what I wouldn't of given to see what was under that bandage. It was nice to pass the patient off to more competent care, especially being as I really had no idea what was going on other than I knew she wasn't dying. Yay! Go me! Throughout the entire process I kept reminding them "Now, let's all remember, I'm a STUDENT doctor, not a real doctor." Anyways, once she was in the waiting room and being triaged I had a chance to check out the scene. Urgent care on a Saturday night in a South African government hospital in a township is gnarly shit my friends. People are SICK. The waiting room is full of people, many lying on stretchers, looking less than stable. Even the stab victims that come in are triaged in the waiting room like the rest of the people to determine if they are worthy to be rolled back to the treatment area. We saw a couple super gnarly stab victims roll in, one in the neck, shaking, going into shock, and another a few minutes after, literally stabbed in the back, postured, potentially already dead. We later found out they had actually stabbed each other explaining why the police showed up soon after. They were both brought in by their respective family/friends, so lots of drama. The government hospital is a hopping spot on a Saturday night, with the number of visitors/supporters growing all the time. I do have to say that all of it made me realize how much I miss the hospital, especially when we saw the stab victims and all I wanted to do was go back with them and stitch them up, while Andile was thoroughly grossed out.
Eventually we received good news: no dislocation, no breaks, nothing urgent, tears still a potential, but at this point just drugged up nice and good (her tingling went away once she was sedated by the drugs, probably just a combo of hyperventilation and initial shock). After the relief set in, so did the exhaustion. All plans to go clubbing that night were out the window. Now we just had to regroup to get ourselves home. This meant dropping off our patient and her sister and getting our crew together, which included a lot more driving and searching some local bars in the now deserted town. Nope, not sketchy at all, not at all. We all stayed at the farm that night and pretty much passed out when we got home.
By the time I woke up at eight the next morning and everybody was already drinking, clearly the consensus was that we were going to make up for the day before. This included a trip to the shisa nyama (an ingenious idea that I will explain later- basically it just combines the best things in the world- meat, bread, and beer), and spending the afternoon drinking, listening to music, and shooting the shit in St. Lucia with the crew. This of course included the classic Zulu components of a lot of driving and a lot of waiting in parking lots, another MSK injury that I had to regulate on, and my fill of drunk Zulu men for a while, all just adding to the experience of the weekend. But, overall, it was a good time and definitely much needed after the drama from the day before.
So, in conclusion: Andile is amazingly awesome and there is no one else I would rather experience ridiculous unplanned adventures with! :) Thanks for all the story making moments this weekend Andi! Heart you! And hope you guys enjoyed this very long winded story. :)
 |
| You may also remember Andile from her ghetto fabulous moment with Team Paramount |
Between games I was introduced to a "nice guy" they were trying to set me up with. And as lovely as he was (he was actually the nicest and most polite guy I've met here), he insisted on distracting me from the girls' game which Andile was playing in, and was the actual reason for my presence. Well, they ended up getting smashed by the Swazi team, so it might of been a blessing I didn't have to watch the massacre. I was able to get a couple shots:
 |
| The team. I won't identify my patient for the sake of confidentiality. :) |
But, just as the game was ending, literally with like four seconds to go, I hear the guy say "Oooph, she looks hurt," looking past me. I of course was looking the other way, trying to stay engaged in the conversation, and therefore missed the entire thing. I look back and see a girl down. My new buddy, who recently learned I was a medical student, suggested "Should you go down there?", to which I responded, "No, no. They will get me if they need me..." And then... no more than five seconds later... "Jess, Jess, come here!". Oh great. I quickly moved my way through the crowd and down to the floor to whispers of "Who's a doctor? Oh! She's a doctor?! Oh. She's a doctor." I get down there to people claiming her shoulder is dislocated. Great. Musculoskeletal. My favorite. In my quick initial assessment I conclude that she isn't going to die, but is in some major pain and some shock from the whole event. I decide to move her out of the gym and the hub-bub of the crowd, which was easier said then done, being as this was an African gym and under construction, so it was a little bit of a hike with some obstacles. When we finally got her out into the fresh air I was able to convince myself it wasn't dislocated, but with some limited range of motion, she could of potentially torn something, like her rotator cuff. The major challenge to the assessment was the patient's distress. She was pretty much wigging out to the point that I was afraid she was going to hyperventilate herself. I tried to get her to do some breathing exercises with some success. I felt secure that she didn't need to go a hospital that second and could last the night with some ibuprofen (which I popped her 800 mg of), ice and some rest. But, her sister, Andile's good friend, was pretty shaken up by the whole situation and opted to go to the clinic. Probably not a bad idea being as the one thing she said that concerned me was that her arm felt tingly, making me think it was possible that she could of dislocated it and re-located it, pinching a nerve. So, off we went to the clinic, Andile driving, and me and the sister supporting the patient, which was more reassurance than anything. Poor girly, she was just scared and in pain.
Now we were on a hunt for an open clinic at 6:30 pm on a Saturday, not an easy feat in rural South Africa. We had a couple hits and misses and ended up at a strip mall with me more than confused. Apparently we were heading to a clinic in the back of a local pharmacy. Sounded less than promising to me when looking at this poor girl in pain, which was an accurate assumption. All the other patients waiting let us move to the front of the line after they saw our poor patient. The nurse took one look at her, tried to move her arm an inch, which was received by a bawl, and immediately directed us to the hospital. So, we called the ambulance. This is another new concept for me. Apparently whenever you need a ride to the hospital, urgent or not, you call the ambulance. The nurse expressed her concern to me that the ambulance was going to be a long wait, over a half an hour. Half an hour?! Seriously?! I convinced the crowd that we should transport ourselves in some manner to the hospital. So back in the car, with a snack on the way, and up to the government hospital.
Man, the government hospital was a trip. The first patient we saw when we walked in was a guy standing up, covered in blood, holding an IV bag he was hooked up to, with a giant bandage over his eye. God, what I wouldn't of given to see what was under that bandage. It was nice to pass the patient off to more competent care, especially being as I really had no idea what was going on other than I knew she wasn't dying. Yay! Go me! Throughout the entire process I kept reminding them "Now, let's all remember, I'm a STUDENT doctor, not a real doctor." Anyways, once she was in the waiting room and being triaged I had a chance to check out the scene. Urgent care on a Saturday night in a South African government hospital in a township is gnarly shit my friends. People are SICK. The waiting room is full of people, many lying on stretchers, looking less than stable. Even the stab victims that come in are triaged in the waiting room like the rest of the people to determine if they are worthy to be rolled back to the treatment area. We saw a couple super gnarly stab victims roll in, one in the neck, shaking, going into shock, and another a few minutes after, literally stabbed in the back, postured, potentially already dead. We later found out they had actually stabbed each other explaining why the police showed up soon after. They were both brought in by their respective family/friends, so lots of drama. The government hospital is a hopping spot on a Saturday night, with the number of visitors/supporters growing all the time. I do have to say that all of it made me realize how much I miss the hospital, especially when we saw the stab victims and all I wanted to do was go back with them and stitch them up, while Andile was thoroughly grossed out.
Eventually we received good news: no dislocation, no breaks, nothing urgent, tears still a potential, but at this point just drugged up nice and good (her tingling went away once she was sedated by the drugs, probably just a combo of hyperventilation and initial shock). After the relief set in, so did the exhaustion. All plans to go clubbing that night were out the window. Now we just had to regroup to get ourselves home. This meant dropping off our patient and her sister and getting our crew together, which included a lot more driving and searching some local bars in the now deserted town. Nope, not sketchy at all, not at all. We all stayed at the farm that night and pretty much passed out when we got home.
By the time I woke up at eight the next morning and everybody was already drinking, clearly the consensus was that we were going to make up for the day before. This included a trip to the shisa nyama (an ingenious idea that I will explain later- basically it just combines the best things in the world- meat, bread, and beer), and spending the afternoon drinking, listening to music, and shooting the shit in St. Lucia with the crew. This of course included the classic Zulu components of a lot of driving and a lot of waiting in parking lots, another MSK injury that I had to regulate on, and my fill of drunk Zulu men for a while, all just adding to the experience of the weekend. But, overall, it was a good time and definitely much needed after the drama from the day before.
So, in conclusion: Andile is amazingly awesome and there is no one else I would rather experience ridiculous unplanned adventures with! :) Thanks for all the story making moments this weekend Andi! Heart you! And hope you guys enjoyed this very long winded story. :)
Monday, November 8, 2010
Welcome to the rondo...
This was an interesting weekend to say the least. Lots of unplanned adventures. Worth telling in parts. Also gives me the opportunity to introduce some of the leading lovely ladies in my life. Let us begin with Friday, and the part of the weekend that actually went according to plan...
Tim went to Jo'burg for the weekend to visit some friends. Without Tim and his car it was either get stuck up here on the farm or down in town. So, I opted not to spend the weekend alone on the farm with no way out and I made myself some plans aka mooched myself onto all my friends. :) First stop, Claire's place!
Claire is a local Peace Corps volunteer and our hook-up with all the other PCVs in the area, hence all the white people at our parties, or I guess I should say more their hook-up to us and our hot, running water, and nice comfy beds. Anyways, Claire's the bestest. We met early on in my stay and became fast friends. I think we were both grateful to have someone to relate to and some good quality female companionship. She is also a California girl so we clicked pretty instantly. Cali love!
Now, Claire is bad ass, as can be told from the above picture, but not just for her amazing dance moves. First of all, she has been here over nine months now so has a really good lay of the land, making her a great reference about South Africa, and Mtuba in particular. Her length of stay and ridiculous language brain have lent to her speaking some solid Zulu, which thoroughly impresses the locals, along with myself. Though it does lead to me getting a lot of "Why can't you speak like that? She must teach you!" Thanks Claire, thanks. Now, Claire works at a less than functioning local NGO, pretty typical Peace Corps material, which she finds slightly frustrating. But, she's a fighter! And so she continues to go in everyday to try to make something of it. I totally admire her determination and motivation. To take some of the edge off she has been spending some time at Mpilonhle with hopes to build a partnership with her community. Another reason I love Claire is one aspect of her involvement is helping me with my most trying project, the development of a digital health database. Yay Claire! You're awesome! Thank God for Claire.
Now, also in typical Peace Corps style, Claire is living in a local village with a local family, roughing it, you might say. And while she has stayed over here quite often and we have picked her up and dropped her off at her place, we have never had an elongated stay there, though she is always more than gracious about inviting us, both as a generous hostess but also for the opportunity to experience village life. So, this weekend, when I knew I was going to be on my own, I called up Claire: "Sooooo, whtacha doing on Friday....?" She ever so charitably invited me to come over and stay the night, and was even so kind as to tell me that she was excited about it. Such a sweetheart!
So, on Friday I met Claire at Spar, a cheaper, more traditional grocery store, to pick up a few items with her, which was an experience in and of itself at 5 pm on a Friday. The grocery store was popping! When we made it out of there alive we piled into a taxi with a few other women from the village and a crapload of stuff. People here LOVE to buy in bulk. And the taxi drivers LOVE to see how many people and how much stuff they can fit in one load. The whole taxi system, from the organization, to the payment, to packing in like sardines, reminded me a lot of Ethiopia. Pretty much the same deal. And from what I hear, it is the same set-up all over Africa, no matter where you go. So you know one, you know them all.
We took the taxi into the village and got dropped off right in front of her house because everybody, including the taxi drivers, all know Claire, the friendly white girl. In the village Claire goes by Sipiwe, her Zulu name which means gift. So, the taxi drivers bid us adieu, "Buhbye Sipiwe!" (because Zulus always say buhbye, never just bye). And after we put our stuff down and quickly met her family, we went for a walk around the village and were greeted wherever we went with "Hi Sipiwe!". Every so often I got "Hi other umlungu!" which means "Hi other white person!" Claire quickly informed them that my name is Nontokozo. So then it was "Hi Nontokozo!" And they remembered! As we were walking in the village the next morning I got many "Hi Nontokozo!"s. It was pretty amazing. Claire is quite the celebrity, clearly well loved in the village. She says it's what makes it all worth it. And also makes her feel very safe. The people watch out for her, they care for her, she is THEIR friendly white girl.
As safe as she feels, after visiting another PCV down the road, we headed home to get back before dark. It is still South Africa friends. When we got back we spent a little time with the family. So there is the Mama who lives in the "big" main house and she has one of her grandsons living with her, who is about 11. His mom, Mama's daughter, lives and works in Jo'burg. This is a pretty common set-up, with kids living with and being raised by their grandmothers, especially the maternal grandmother. Mama is a little quirky but her name is Rose, so she's awesome. Obvi.
In the house behind her lives her son, his wife, their two little ones, and the wife's sister who helps takes care of the munchkins. Mama's son is a local high school teacher. The older of their two little ones is the largest and cutest two year old I've ever seen:
Baby love!
Now, Claire lives in a rondoval, or rondo, adjacent to their houses.
The rondo is the traditional housing style of the Zulu, though Claire lives in a particularly fancy looking one, which she is a little bashful about. The most basic ones are simply a circular structure with a thatched roof. Pictures of those to come in future posts
They don't have running water in her village which means collecting water that they keep in a cistern and using a pit toilet:
Sweet! It makes washing dishes and bathing yourself particularly entertaining. Like I said, Claire is a tough cookie. This isn't like a week, or even a couple months, this is two years. For two years, this is her life. And she totally embraces it. It's awesome. I'm not sure I could do it. Peace Corps volunteers are brave and resilient souls. More power to them!
After getting my baby quota, Claire made a delicious dinner of sweet and sour lentils with rice and avocado. Soooo good! Things get pretty quiet after dark, so we watched a movie (I introduced Claire to Trevor Noah and she LOVED him, obvi) and passed out. We woke up the next morning at six to house music pumping from her neighbor's place. Awesomely fantastic. Oh yeah, cause Zulus cannot sleep in from what I can tell. Pretty much everybody is up by six or seven, every morning. Impressive. We had a lovely breakfast of eggs, washed up, and then headed back into town, thanks to another one of Sipiwe's taxi driver friends who picked us up on the way. At this point, another leg of my adventure began as I joined my Zulu crew, and all plans go out the window...
But, this is not the last you will hear of Claire. She has become a regular fixture in my life here, including a trip to Mozambique over Christmas with some of her Peace Corps friends. Woot woot! Beautiful beaches and lots of amazing diving! I'm soooooooo excited! So, the conclusion of all this is, Claire is awesome. Yay Claire! We love you!
Tim went to Jo'burg for the weekend to visit some friends. Without Tim and his car it was either get stuck up here on the farm or down in town. So, I opted not to spend the weekend alone on the farm with no way out and I made myself some plans aka mooched myself onto all my friends. :) First stop, Claire's place!
Claire is a local Peace Corps volunteer and our hook-up with all the other PCVs in the area, hence all the white people at our parties, or I guess I should say more their hook-up to us and our hot, running water, and nice comfy beds. Anyways, Claire's the bestest. We met early on in my stay and became fast friends. I think we were both grateful to have someone to relate to and some good quality female companionship. She is also a California girl so we clicked pretty instantly. Cali love!
 |
| Claire showing off her awesome Cali dance skills at one of our parties |
Now, also in typical Peace Corps style, Claire is living in a local village with a local family, roughing it, you might say. And while she has stayed over here quite often and we have picked her up and dropped her off at her place, we have never had an elongated stay there, though she is always more than gracious about inviting us, both as a generous hostess but also for the opportunity to experience village life. So, this weekend, when I knew I was going to be on my own, I called up Claire: "Sooooo, whtacha doing on Friday....?" She ever so charitably invited me to come over and stay the night, and was even so kind as to tell me that she was excited about it. Such a sweetheart!
So, on Friday I met Claire at Spar, a cheaper, more traditional grocery store, to pick up a few items with her, which was an experience in and of itself at 5 pm on a Friday. The grocery store was popping! When we made it out of there alive we piled into a taxi with a few other women from the village and a crapload of stuff. People here LOVE to buy in bulk. And the taxi drivers LOVE to see how many people and how much stuff they can fit in one load. The whole taxi system, from the organization, to the payment, to packing in like sardines, reminded me a lot of Ethiopia. Pretty much the same deal. And from what I hear, it is the same set-up all over Africa, no matter where you go. So you know one, you know them all.
We took the taxi into the village and got dropped off right in front of her house because everybody, including the taxi drivers, all know Claire, the friendly white girl. In the village Claire goes by Sipiwe, her Zulu name which means gift. So, the taxi drivers bid us adieu, "Buhbye Sipiwe!" (because Zulus always say buhbye, never just bye). And after we put our stuff down and quickly met her family, we went for a walk around the village and were greeted wherever we went with "Hi Sipiwe!". Every so often I got "Hi other umlungu!" which means "Hi other white person!" Claire quickly informed them that my name is Nontokozo. So then it was "Hi Nontokozo!" And they remembered! As we were walking in the village the next morning I got many "Hi Nontokozo!"s. It was pretty amazing. Claire is quite the celebrity, clearly well loved in the village. She says it's what makes it all worth it. And also makes her feel very safe. The people watch out for her, they care for her, she is THEIR friendly white girl.
As safe as she feels, after visiting another PCV down the road, we headed home to get back before dark. It is still South Africa friends. When we got back we spent a little time with the family. So there is the Mama who lives in the "big" main house and she has one of her grandsons living with her, who is about 11. His mom, Mama's daughter, lives and works in Jo'burg. This is a pretty common set-up, with kids living with and being raised by their grandmothers, especially the maternal grandmother. Mama is a little quirky but her name is Rose, so she's awesome. Obvi.
In the house behind her lives her son, his wife, their two little ones, and the wife's sister who helps takes care of the munchkins. Mama's son is a local high school teacher. The older of their two little ones is the largest and cutest two year old I've ever seen:
Now, Claire lives in a rondoval, or rondo, adjacent to their houses.
The rondo is the traditional housing style of the Zulu, though Claire lives in a particularly fancy looking one, which she is a little bashful about. The most basic ones are simply a circular structure with a thatched roof. Pictures of those to come in future posts
They don't have running water in her village which means collecting water that they keep in a cistern and using a pit toilet:
Sweet! It makes washing dishes and bathing yourself particularly entertaining. Like I said, Claire is a tough cookie. This isn't like a week, or even a couple months, this is two years. For two years, this is her life. And she totally embraces it. It's awesome. I'm not sure I could do it. Peace Corps volunteers are brave and resilient souls. More power to them!
After getting my baby quota, Claire made a delicious dinner of sweet and sour lentils with rice and avocado. Soooo good! Things get pretty quiet after dark, so we watched a movie (I introduced Claire to Trevor Noah and she LOVED him, obvi) and passed out. We woke up the next morning at six to house music pumping from her neighbor's place. Awesomely fantastic. Oh yeah, cause Zulus cannot sleep in from what I can tell. Pretty much everybody is up by six or seven, every morning. Impressive. We had a lovely breakfast of eggs, washed up, and then headed back into town, thanks to another one of Sipiwe's taxi driver friends who picked us up on the way. At this point, another leg of my adventure began as I joined my Zulu crew, and all plans go out the window...
But, this is not the last you will hear of Claire. She has become a regular fixture in my life here, including a trip to Mozambique over Christmas with some of her Peace Corps friends. Woot woot! Beautiful beaches and lots of amazing diving! I'm soooooooo excited! So, the conclusion of all this is, Claire is awesome. Yay Claire! We love you!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Proud to be an American...
So today I could not partake of my beloved daily ritual of reading the New York Times online. It was all just too frustrating/scary. You should hear how they talk about us on the news here. And yes, it is true about the world being American-centric. Our mid-term election results were one of the top headlines on the local news here. What did they have to say? Oh, basically that everybody is clearly unhappy with the state of things and are at odds with each other and everybody is blaming the government who apparently can't get their shit together and the president who everybody had hope for hasn't lived up to his expectations, hasn't fulfilled his promises and so now there has been this giant shake-up, a clear sign that the country is falling apart more or less. Ok, now read that sentence not in reference to our good old U. S. of A. Sounds pretty much like South Africa or any other African nation, no? Way to go America! Joining the ranks of the developing world! Woot woot! I'm normally not too political of a person, but all of this is not making it too enticing to come back... gotta say...
I do want to give a shout out to the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear and all of those that participated. It looked awesome! I wish I could of been there! It has brought a smile to my face and a little bit of faith to see articles and pictures from the event. Way to go team! Not all hope is lost!
Ok, enough ranting and raving. On a more inspiring note and to continue the trend of Times posts, the New York Times Magazine published a women's empowerment issue, on my birthday no less:
http://www.nytimes.com/indexes/2010/10/24/magazine/index.html
There's a lot of great articles in there that are definitely worth a read. I personally recommend the cover article, "DIY Foreign-Aid Revolution". It's a little long, but worth it. First, I LOVE Nicholas Kristoff. But, to note, this is one of those articles that while motivating you to be a better person and give more of yourself, it also makes you feel ridiculously guilty for not doing and accomplishing more by this point in your life. The other article I strongly suggest reading is "Studio Kabul". Both these articles have been known to make people very angry and frustrated at the state of the world and how people can possibly treat others so horribly and how we can tolerate it. Ok, maybe that is just me, but I wanted to give fair warning. :) Enjoy! Would love to hear what you think!
I do want to give a shout out to the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear and all of those that participated. It looked awesome! I wish I could of been there! It has brought a smile to my face and a little bit of faith to see articles and pictures from the event. Way to go team! Not all hope is lost!
Ok, enough ranting and raving. On a more inspiring note and to continue the trend of Times posts, the New York Times Magazine published a women's empowerment issue, on my birthday no less:
http://www.nytimes.com/indexes/2010/10/24/magazine/index.html
There's a lot of great articles in there that are definitely worth a read. I personally recommend the cover article, "DIY Foreign-Aid Revolution". It's a little long, but worth it. First, I LOVE Nicholas Kristoff. But, to note, this is one of those articles that while motivating you to be a better person and give more of yourself, it also makes you feel ridiculously guilty for not doing and accomplishing more by this point in your life. The other article I strongly suggest reading is "Studio Kabul". Both these articles have been known to make people very angry and frustrated at the state of the world and how people can possibly treat others so horribly and how we can tolerate it. Ok, maybe that is just me, but I wanted to give fair warning. :) Enjoy! Would love to hear what you think!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
You know you live in Africa when... IV
You know you live in Africa when...
--- you have to make a U-turn on your way home from a night out because the local river has flooded over your bridge.
... the pick up spot you arranged with your friend is the side of a highway.
... Frosties (aka Frosted Flakes) are the best thing you have ever tasted.
--- you have to make a U-turn on your way home from a night out because the local river has flooded over your bridge.
... the pick up spot you arranged with your friend is the side of a highway.
... Frosties (aka Frosted Flakes) are the best thing you have ever tasted.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Wedding crashers!
Tim and I got all snazzied up in our floral prints on Saturday and headed to a wedding, courtesy of TK and family. Gugu, TK's wife, was the maid of honor and insisted we come.
Ok, first thing to know about Zulu weddings: there are multiple "Sessions". That's right. Sessions. Like a workshop or a meeting. And they are titled as such in the program. We made it for Session 2. Session 1 is the ceremony. Session 3 is the traditional part, with dancing and singing that evolves into an all night dance party to my understanding, kind of like the 21st birthday party or umemulo I went to a couple weeks ago. Session 2, which we attended, involves the introduction of the bride and groom, toasts/tributes (yes, tributes), and food. And all of these components take place in different locations, meaning a lot of transport and commuting. This is why we opted to just attend one session under TK's guidance.
So, first and foremost, the decor is, um, how do you say, fantasitcally awesome and fabulous!!!! It kind of reminded me of quincienneras for all those Cali kids out there.
Session 2 begins with a reenactment of the procession. Now, being a bridesmaid or groomsmen here in South Africa is a little different than in the US. It's not a simple commitment to just walk down the aisle, maybe have to make a speech if you are the maid of honor or something. Oh no. You have to have skills. WALK down the aisle? Oh, hells no. You do badass choreographed dance steps! That's right. We think we white people are all creative coming up with that shiznit in that YouTube video. Nope. We stole that shit from Africa people, where people actually have rhythm. Now I understand why Thuli is tentative about making me a bridesmaid in her wedding...
Once the bridal party is settled at the head table, the program begins. First of all, there is an MC. No joke. And there is cinematic lighting for the old school video camera recording everything, not to mention quite the PA system, even a TV hooked up showing the festivities real time, though it's a small TV and is set up behind the person speaking.... so not really sure of the benefit.... Oh, and there is a DJ. And I'm not talking like a stereotypical wedding DJ, I'm talking like a wicka wicka wa, spintables DJ, who plays entrance and exit riffs for all the speakers. I like their style. The speeches were mostly in Zulu, but we could pretty much get the jist. No matter where you are in the world, there is the uncle that will not shut up and just keeps talking and talking and talking. And, as mentioned, these were not just toasts, but also tributes. Yes, that's right. I'm talking like badass ballads sung by family, friends, the wedding party, you name it. Many of them were gospel, all of them were awesome. Our own lady Gugu took the stage and belted out quite the tune. Tim and I were thoroughly impressed.
So, one minute I was in the hall, enjoying the festivities, and then the next minute I was in the parking lot, drinking straight whiskey. No big deal. Don't ask me how it happened. I'm still not really sure. A big guy, who introduced himself as Round, no joke, who had taken a liking to the lone white people at the event, approached me in my chair, and was like "Your friend, Tim, he's asking for you". He then took me by the hand and led me out of the hall into the dirt parking lot. I look back to see TK smiling and giggling and waving goodbye to me. Oh geez. What am I in for? I'm not sure if I should be concerned for Tim's safety (why would he ask for me?), or my own (I was being led by a strange, large man to god knows where). He leads me to car where I find Tim sitting in the front seat and he hands me a glass of whiskey, "Help me with this. I'm driving." I did what I could for the cause, which I will say did not make much of a dent, and it ended with Tim drinking most of the whiskey anyways, and more involved me doing my "whiskey dance", which was a hit, by the way. We had our food hand delivered to the car. It's good to be hanging out with the men, you get top notch service. Gugu also made sure as the maid of honor that we got our hands on some dessert. All in all, it was a lovely afternoon. And I can't wait to see what Session 1 and 3 are all about... :) Next time.
I hope you enjoy the excess of pictures! I couldn't pick! :)
Ok, first thing to know about Zulu weddings: there are multiple "Sessions". That's right. Sessions. Like a workshop or a meeting. And they are titled as such in the program. We made it for Session 2. Session 1 is the ceremony. Session 3 is the traditional part, with dancing and singing that evolves into an all night dance party to my understanding, kind of like the 21st birthday party or umemulo I went to a couple weeks ago. Session 2, which we attended, involves the introduction of the bride and groom, toasts/tributes (yes, tributes), and food. And all of these components take place in different locations, meaning a lot of transport and commuting. This is why we opted to just attend one session under TK's guidance.
So, first and foremost, the decor is, um, how do you say, fantasitcally awesome and fabulous!!!! It kind of reminded me of quincienneras for all those Cali kids out there.
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| First of all, let us appreciate the bridesmaids' outfits. That's Gugu w/ her back to us. |
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| There's Gugu in front, making sure everyone is in time. |
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| There they go! Shake it! And you best believe the bride and groom follow with their own hot steps! |
Once the bridal party is settled at the head table, the program begins. First of all, there is an MC. No joke. And there is cinematic lighting for the old school video camera recording everything, not to mention quite the PA system, even a TV hooked up showing the festivities real time, though it's a small TV and is set up behind the person speaking.... so not really sure of the benefit.... Oh, and there is a DJ. And I'm not talking like a stereotypical wedding DJ, I'm talking like a wicka wicka wa, spintables DJ, who plays entrance and exit riffs for all the speakers. I like their style. The speeches were mostly in Zulu, but we could pretty much get the jist. No matter where you are in the world, there is the uncle that will not shut up and just keeps talking and talking and talking. And, as mentioned, these were not just toasts, but also tributes. Yes, that's right. I'm talking like badass ballads sung by family, friends, the wedding party, you name it. Many of them were gospel, all of them were awesome. Our own lady Gugu took the stage and belted out quite the tune. Tim and I were thoroughly impressed.
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| Gugu belting it out! You go girl! (Because that is exactly what she would say to me ;) ) |
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| Me, dancing with Round. Notice how he lives up to his name, and me having a hard time keeping a straight face. |
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| TK and I enjoying our food in the parking lot. Post whiskey. |
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| The smiling groom. |
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| The blushing bride |
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| Me and the Matron of Honor! (Her official title) |
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| The boys. |
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| Me and our hosts! And TK being an ass. |
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