Pamela on the realization she'll be home in three weeks

Can you believe that in less than three weeks we’ll be back home? Well I have been thinking about that for the past two weeks because I have been off from Christel House because the kids are on break. For me it is a bittersweet moment, when I think about it I am very glad I’m going home because I really miss my family and friends but on the other side thinking that I’m leaving Christel has been very sad because I’ve gotten so close to the kids and the thought that I am going home and not knowing when I will be able to see them again is so devastating.

Being off from work for two has given me the time to reflect on everything we did here. I have been thinking on how I’m going to use this amazing experience once I get back home and applied everything I learned in my everyday life. Being in South Africa has open my eyes so much , it made me more aware on what is going on around me, I’m really glad that I’m doing this.

I’ve been thinking so much about when I go back to the states because I feel like I’m such a different person from who I was when I came here. I really like the change that happened and I just feel like people will not understand me because they have not experienced what I have been through so I feel like its going to be hard for me to be around them or the reverse.

I still have three weeks left here in Cape Town , I will make the best out of it and keep on enjoying the beautiful scenery and the friendly people. I keep on enjoying working with the children and everyone at Christel House because my time here now is so limited.

Leah asks if she fulfilled what she came here to fulfill

 It has come to that point in the trip. All that is on my mind is one question: “Have I fulfilled what I came here to fulfill?” At first, I answered this question by thinking of the different activities that I have taken part in and those that I had yet to complete. I bungee jumped off of the highest bungee in the world, I have visited all of the historic sites in the city, I have had an amazing internship, etc. Still, I must visit the National Gallery, the Holocaust Museum. But these answers did not satisfy me. This analysis and even interpretation of my own question did not seem to sum up my trip. It is not so concrete.

When I do not have an answer to a question, it plagues me by hanging in the back of my mind – especially when it is a question about how I feel or what I think. I mean, those should be the easy ones, right? So I have been turning this issue over in my head, and I still am. Is South Africa all I thought it would be? Is it more? Less? Different? And perhaps more importantly: So what? What now? How is this trip going to fit into my life – my real life in America?

I think I have come to the conclusion. If not an objective, permanent conclusion, at least one that is satisfying me for now. The answer to the question is illustrated in my inability to answer it. Let me explain. The reason I cannot answer complete, final questions about this trip and what it has meant to me is that this experience did change me. I internalized so much and this experience has become a part of me. I have not experienced a string of exciting events for a semester, I have altered myself.

My lens through which I see the world has been opened. The curtain which shielded me from seeing certain issues before has been removed. I do not have to worry about remembering every single little thing that I have learned in South Africa because I have changed. Irreversibly, I will never not see racism, sexism, classism, agism, or any other –ism.

From the people with whom I have lived, I have learned to love and accept myself. As corny as that sounds, it is entirely true. Never before have I lived in such a healthy environment full of self-love. Before this trip, I did not think I needed to look internally or focus on myself too much. I felt as though I was fairly happy with myself and my body, and that was enough. Learning from everyone I have lived with, I have begun to recognize my strengths, my faults, and love them all.

I cannot answer the question “Have I fulfilled what I came here to fulfill?” It is not about doing things, having fun, changing the world, or getting teaching experience. It is not about that and never has been about that. In no way could I have expected to change the way I have.

Such a question is entirely defunct at this point. Thankfully. 

Sarah on a "small" act of kindness

Two weeks off from Thandokhulu has left me in a state of relaxation I have not experienced in Cape Town.  Instead of waking up at 6 in the morning, teaching at Thandokhulu, rushing to Khayelitsha for a book club, and then running straight to class, I’m sleeping in, taking time to myself, and exploring Cape Town from an entirely different vantage point.

At first, it almost seemed like I was doing something wrong.  Not only had I deterred from my routine that had apparently became more ingrained than I even realized, but I had time to breathe.  Once I got over the initial shock, I decided to try some new things.

I started with experiencing Cape Town entirely on my own, something I had never really done before.  As Observatory (more commonly known as Obs) was a favorite area of mine, I decided to go spend some time there on my own.I flagged down a minibus and crammed on, suddenly more aware of how much I stood out now that I was alone.  I had not been to Obs in a few weeks, and I could not remember if the ride there was five or six rand.  I asked the caller (the man who calls out the window of the minibus) how much, and he told me R8.  Which isn’t true.  Partially out of nervousness from being alone, partially out of not really caring since he only overcharged me by 26 American cents, I handed him the money without questioning him.  As soon as I did it though, I was frustrated.  I was mad at myself for being too passive, I was mad at him for overcharging me.  I then, somehow or another, got mad at the whole city.  I got mad at the poverty and its affect on the whole country, I got mad at the unrelenting draw to white people and their perceived money and fame.  I was just irrationally and unfairly mad.

The caller then began to talk to me in either mumbled English or, more likely, Afrikaans.  I explained to him that I could not understand him, but he continued to repeat himself.  Finally, a woman in front of me cut him off abruptly by saying, “She’s American.”  Her tone seemed annoyed and borderline rude and I assumed it was on account of me.  I laughed nervously, affirming that yes, I was American, and settled in to stare out the window and mind my own business.

A few moments later then woman turned to me and touched my knee lightly. “Just a word of advice,” she whispered softly, “make sure you ask how much it costs before you even get on the minibus.  They can tell you’re not from around here and they’ll take advantage of you.”  “Yeah, I know, he overcharged me.  Thank you.”  I replied with a smile. 

I was relieved to know that I had miscalculated; the woman was not annoyed with me.  I turned back to the window, a little more at ease.  A good five minutes had passed before the woman again turned to speak to me.  She gestured to the caller and said, “He’s not going to apologize to you, but I am.  I’m so sorry.  We’re not all like that.”  She seemed so hurt by this man’s actions, and I immediately felt a rush of gratitude towards her.  “No, I know.  I’ve had nothing but good experiences before this.” Not entirely true.  But her kindness erased them all.  I was beaming with happiness on the inside, simply because of this tiny little act of kindness this woman showed.  It’s amazing how much one person can change your entire attitude. Or at least mine.

I got to Obs, shopped around, and had a great lunch at an organic restaurant where I was able to order freshly squeezed beet juice.  But I walked home.

Kayley on her work in Khayelitsha

Every week I go into Khayelitsha (one of the largest townships) with Prof the doctor I am interning for. I have so many interesting stories and experiences from going into Khayelitsha with Prof I figured I would use my blog to share a couple of them.

 A mother came in with her 1-year-old baby son and her 7-year-old daughter about two weeks ago. The baby son had ulcers all around and inside his mouth. The mother is HIV (+), the baby boy tested negative when he was born . However some children don’t test (+)  even though they are until they are 1 or 2, or until even later at 7,8,9 years old. The older girl looked pretty healthy but Prof suspected she would test (+) later. The reason that both were most likely HIV (+) is because the mom had breastfed both of them, and breast milk is one of the major ways to contract HIV. According to the mom the baby was losing weight rapidly and he just looked miserable. Prof told the mom to get her children tested again so she can get them started on the ARV’s (meds for AIDs). She said that she couldn’t tell her boyfriend that she or her children are HIV (+), even though he gave it to her. It is taboo for the men to be HIV (+) or be with someone that is. Having HIV (+) children is proof that you yourself are HIV (+); many men leave their families after hearing that their children or partners are infected. Prof convinced her to get her kids tested again no matter what her boyfriend says or else the children would die. She finally agreed, as she got up to leave, Prof asked her if she was currently pregnant. She said yes. This woman has three HIV (+) children. She is scared to tell her HIV (+) boyfriend for fear of him leaving her and the kids. Yet the children, and she need to start the ARV’s so they can stay as healthy as possible.  HIV is rapidly spreading throughout the townships, it is a nightmare.

            Last week a woman came in with her two little boys, they were so cute. One was a little bit older than the other. She brought them both with her but was mainly focused on the younger boy because he had bad eczema. As Prof was examining the younger boy, the mother was telling us about her life. Her boyfriend left her and the children a while back; she is unemployed and receiving social grants from the government. She kept saying that she loves her boys so much and that they keep her going every day. Prof put the younger boy on some medicine for his skin. Just before she was leaving she asked Prof to take a quick look at the older boy because something wasn’t right. It turned out that the older boy has a huge inguinal hernia on his right side. An inguinal hernia is a hernia in the groin area.  Prof knew that the boy needed an operation right away but he was hesitant to allow the clinic to do it because it is a complicated one. It is very easy to hit the vas deferens (the tube that carries sperm from the testes to the urethra) or the many blood vessels in the area, hitting either would be detrimental to the boy. Prof decided to call the Red Cross Hospital and make sure that the boy could get in for an operation the next day. He told the mother to wait until he was finished and he would take her to Red Cross Children's Hospital.

            After Prof was finished the five of us piled in the car headed for Red Cross. The older boy (who is still very young) was smiling, giggling and having the time of his life on the ride there. When we arrived Prof asked me to take the family to ward D2 while he finished sorting things out. As we were heading for the ward the boys were skipping and laughing down the hallway.  As we arrived I knocked on the office door in D2 and began to explain the situation. The other doctors and nurses were laughing because Prof does this a lot. When someone needs medical attention he does whatever he can to get them help immediately even if causes a slight bit of mayhem in the hospital. The doctor told the mom to go downstairs to admissions and get a folder then come back up and they would arrange beds for them. I told the mom I would walk her down to admissions on my way to research. After I got her settled at admissions and was about to leave she asked me if they were going to feed her other son. I told her not to worry and of course they would, but I went to sleep thinking that night how scary that entire experience that must have been for the mom. Even though the Red Cross is a safe place it is very new and scary to her.

            I learn so much every Tuesday. Although these experiences go from happy, sad, funny, horrifying and around again, I would not trade this experience up for anything, I truly love it.

Katherine's long weekend

South Africans love their holidays.  We had a long weekend this past week because Friday was Good Friday and Monday was Family Day.  At my internship (at Black Sash) on Wednesday, I tried to contact several other offices in search of information for a social security project I am working on, but my boss told me it was a futile effort because many offices were already preparing for the holidays and stopping work two days before the Easter weekend actually began.  I laughed because at home I don’t think closing down an office two days before the holiday would go over very well with many people.

Since I had four days to relax, I decided to visit my fellow intern, Vera, at her apartment in Somerset West.  Elly, another fellow intern, and I took the train from downtown Cape Town to the Somerset West station.  While it is only a thirty minute drive to Somerset West, it was an hour and fifteen minute train ride because the train stopped every thirty feet.  In the morning we went to Monkey Town.  It is a monkey sanctuary where there are over 250 monkeys.  Sadly many of the monkeys are there because they had abusive owners.  We were the ones in the caged in area so that the monkeys could roam around freely as we followed them through our caged tunnel.  There were several signs that said “DO NOT TOUCH THE MONKEYS” and of course Vera did not listen.  She decided to touch one of the spider monkey’s arms…that did not go very well.  The monkey stared screeching and reached out to grab her!  We saw several different types of monkeys including chimpanzee, marmoset, and spider.

In the afternoon, Vera took us for a drive down the coast of Somerset West into an area called Strand.  The drive was very pretty and reminded me of the Cape Peninsula drive that heads toward Cape Point.  The road snakes right along the edge of the mountains along the Atlantic Ocean. 

In the evening we came back to town and went to a section of Cape Town called Green Point.  It is located in between downtown Cape Town and the Waterfront.  Elly, Vera, her friends, and I dined at the restaurant called Cubana.  It was interesting to hangout with white South Africans.  Most of the South Africans I have come into contact with are not white and seem to be much more in touch with the problems of the country.  Vera’s friends did not mention anything about the problems in South Africa.  They considered Elly and I brave for taking the train and riding minibus taxis because they would not do such things.  Little do they know, but the minibus taxis are highly entertaining and they are missing out by not taking them.

Brett's trip to Kalk Bay

Easter morning. I got up fairly early this morning, went for a short run, and now I am chilling in the spare room. We have a nice big brunch planned for us today, and an Easter egg hunt following that. The air is getting a bit brisker. The sun is still strong, but one can tell that winter is coming.

Yesterday, we spent the day at Kalk Bay. After a 50 minute train ride, we got off the train to a small fishing town. Walking across the street, we went into the small shops. The shops had a bohemian flare, with lots of homemade clothing and jewelry and small nick-nacks. There were dusty bookshops and Adam and I walked into one. It had rows and stacks of old, very old books, with brown cloth covers. On the floor was the head of an antelope, meant to be mounted on the wall but staring up from glass eyes. I walked into another room to see a whole assortment of mounted heads lying all over the floor. There was a wildebeest head, and various other antelope. There was also an assortment of animal skulls, along with some ancient maps. 

Another store housed strings of jewelry, hung with homemade beads. Adam and I were fiddling around amongst the trinkets when we noticed a small man behind the curtain of beads who was busy at work making the jewelry.  The stores smelled of incense and dust.

For lunch, we walked over to the pier on Kalk Bay. The pier extended out into the ocean, protecting a line of small colorful fishing boats in the harbor. Rachel and I walked over to the edge of the pier to see several seals swimming in the harbor. The seals were just chilling, protected against the waves, and peering up at the people looking down at them.

On the dock, some tarps were laid out on the ground, and fish, recently caught were lined up on the ground. It crossed my mind to purchase one, but they were at least two feet long, a bit too much for me. Also, only a few days before, I had bought a fish from the back of a pick-up truck near my work, a foot and a half snoek for R30 ($4.50). It was a good fish, and a great price. The only problem was that it was way too much for me, and food here goes bad a bit faster.     

For lunch, we ate at Kalky’s, a shack of a restaurant. The fish and chips were quite fresh, and cheap and delicious. A full plate of fish and chips cost the equivalent of R34 $5.00, something that in the states would easily be $15.00. We had a nice assortment of fried food, Leah and Sarah got the calamari, Michelle, the crayfish, Rachel and Brittany the snoek, and Adam and I the hake, on top of nice piles of French fries. 

Adam approaches his final month in Cape Town

Before going to the human rights workshop I wasn’t sure what to expect.  It turned out to be a very unique experience.  We got to meet a diverse group of people who were from countries all over Africa.  We got to hear some of their stories while we discussed human rights.  We even held a mock U.N. conference where each group chose an African nation and discussed facts and information regarding human rights in that particular country.  I learned a lot from this conference and thought it was one of the best and most fun parts of the whole workshop.  An added bonus was that we had the workshop at a beautiful olive and fig farm.

We were told that before we left for Cape Town that people here work and live at a much slower pace than in America.  I definitely noticed this as soon as I arrived in Cape Town.  For a person who is fairly punctual I find it difficult to sometimes deal with the tardiness that comes along with the Capetonian lifestyle.  However recently I have started to fall into the groove of this slow paced way of life, especially on this four day Easter weekend.  Downstairs in the house right now an over the top Easter feast is being prepared and after that it’s off to the International Jazz Festival.  There’s no work tomorrow (Monday) because of Family Day.  South Africans sure do celebrate a lot of holidays and I can’t complain.

The weather here in Cape Town is starting to change a bit with autumn beginning to set in.  It’s an unfortunate fact of nature that causes us all to long for summer.  Luckily for us when we return home it will just be the beginning of summer, which is pretty awesome.  We are all making our plans for our last month in Cape Town trying to make sure that we don’t miss out on anything.  I’m looking forward to the rest of April and think it might just be our best month here.