It’s been 95 days since I flew out of Kansas City International Airport and arrived in Philly for staging – I’ve now been in South Africa for 3 months, just one of which I’ve spent here in Mafefe, my new “home away from home.” I won’t lie to you and say adjusting to a totally new area and new set of customs has been easy – it hasn’t been easy, but it’s worth it. Every step I take to build the capacity of my new community to improve their livelihoods, I find my own capacity for personal development growing dramatically as well. Inevitably, I am homesick from time to time – it’s part and parcel of finding balance while living “alone” in another country. But the truth is, I am not at all alone here. It takes me FAR longer than it should just to walk from one place to the next because everyone whose path I cross wants to greet me, ask where I am coming from, where I am going, and how my day is. Though I’ve left countless loved ones back in the states, building meaningful relationships here is no challenge at all – in spite of the language barrier.
The other day, while out walking, I met a girl who is just wrapping up her final high school exams. I asked here what she plans to do after graduating and she immediately responded: “I want to go to the University of Cape Town, to study meteorology.” She explained that she excelled in Science and Math and really enjoyed learning about geography – an obviously bright and motivated young mind. I questioned further, “Have you applied to the program yet.” “No, I can’t it’s too expensive and my family has no money.” At once my heart both became heavy with the thought that her educators had not made strides to help her seek funding for college and my heart rose at the thought that THIS is an area where I can clearly have a lasting impact working with teachers to better educate learners and prepare them for continuing their education and/or joining the workforce. In the context of devastatingly widespread unemployment after the fall of apartheid, many children, especially in poor rural areas such as my own, are not being educated in many of the vital skills they need to find viable employment. As if to read my mind, the young girl asked me if I had a computer and asked that I teach her to use it so she could find a way to fund her education. She then said she’d also like to find other ways to improve her job marketability, and suggested helping me at the local home-based care organization or in the schools. Openly grasping at any opportunity to learn, the young lady said she is happy to help without pay. I told her I’d discuss it with my supervisor and am sure she will prove a vital link to youth in the community – youth being the group most vulnerable to contracting HIV/AIDS and the most necessary group to involve in the struggle to stifle the virus’ spread.
The secondary school in my area has had 30 computers for 1 year, but only a couple are plugged in and none of them are available for students to learn on. Due to the legacy of apartheid and its INCREDIBLY negative impact on education systems (google “Bantu Education”), teachers at the school have had little to no formal training on how to use the computers, let alone assemble them and get them running properly. This weekend I will help set-up 30 computers at the secondary school, while working with teachers to develop a plan for my future involvement with children and youth in both secondary and primary school. I plan to train teachers to train students in computer skills, build capacity around English learning, and run once weekly programs that provide fun activities alongside lessons on family planning and reproductive health.
As an NGO Capacity Building Volunteer, in Peace Corps terms working with children and youth in the schools would be labelled my “secondary project.” My “primary project” remains working with local NGOs to build capacity around resource mobilization.
I’ve received many letters requesting details on what “a day in the life of Cole” looks like and the easiest response is: no two days are ever the same here! My schedule is fluid and, during these first three months at site, I will continue to simply spend time where I feel I will learn the most. After the New Year I should have a more concrete schedule… but, just for kicks, I’ll take this opportunity to sketch out a general schedule and highlight some activities that have been particularly memorable so far:
SATURDAYS--> are funeral days. Coming from a culture where funerals are relatively infrequent and usually pretty darned depressing, I should explain that funeral days in my village are equivalent to what most Americans would conceive of as “party days.” The day begins at 5am. My sangoma host mother knocks on my door to tell me its time to go. We are wearing skirts below our knees, any sort of non-revealing shirt, a jacket or shawl over our shoulders, and head scarves wrapped in traditional African style – color is not important, black is not a requirement because this day is meant for much more than grieving. We walk/hike whatever distance is necessary to the home of the bereaved where people are sitting quietly under tents and round huts, generally divided by gender and age, talking and waiting for the event to begin. Around half-past 5 or 6, depending on the weather a pastor and perhaps some family and friends will either say some words about the bereaved or signal that it is time for all of us (usually a group of at least 50 people) walk to the gravesite with the casket and then offer up words about the bereaved there. Depending on the church to which the bereaved was a member, the walk may be silent, may involve some singing in minor key, or may involve joyous singing, dancing, and drumming the whole way. The singing usually continues at the grave site as we all say our prayers and goodbyes and the casket descends into its final resting place. All of the male attendees take turns shovelling dirt over the grave site and then cover it with rocks/stones while the female attendees look on, perhaps singing and dancing as well. We are usually at the graveyard for 30 to 60 minutes and then we all march back to the home of the bereaved where men are waiting to sprinkle water on us to “wash away the death” while repeating the phrase “it (death) is a part of life.” Now the real partying begins. Traditional foods (vegetables, meat, and pap) are dished up to all, good conversations are had, and amplified music continues late into the day and night with ample laughter and dancing (everyone knows all the same dance moves here and I too am learning them quickly). I believe back in the states this would be comparable to having weekly wakes.
SUNDAYS--> are church days. No longer belonging to any particular denomination myself, and explaining to people here that I am what might be best labelled “spiritual” without much more specificity, I attend a different type of church each week. I do this so I can meet new people, make sure everyone knows who I am and what I’m doing wandering around their village, and be certain that I show no ‘favoritism’ towards one particular denomination or another – rather that I respect and support all forms of religious and spiritual beliefs. Church services are generally much longer here than I remember them in the US… ranging from 2-4 hours depending on the pastor and church patrons. After church I like to return home and do laundry (by hand) and on almost any given evening I will either eat with my family around the fire or cook for myself in my room, wash dishes, and then retire to my bed with a book or a letter.
WEEKDAYS--> are varied work days. I find myself waking up with the sun now (around 5) and doing yoga stretches for up to an hour. I then warm up some water and bucket bathe, dump my water over nearby papaya trees, and dish up some yogurt and granola or other high fibre breakfast. Someone from the local home-based care organization usually swings by to get me at 9 and we walk to wherever my destination for the day might be (eg. the local clinic, schools, or drop-in center for orphan & vulnerable children, or to the taxi rank if I’m headed over the mountain-pass to the umbrella organization, Lebowakgomo, or Polokwane (for shopping or business)). I return home for supper and relaxing sometime between 2 and 6 (before the sun sets). I tend to spend at least three weekdays here in Mafefe and one or two with the umbrella in Ga-Mathabatha. My evenings are just as flexible as my days… but I most enjoy playing pool in a garage down the road with my host nephews and other children and youth. I tend to go to sleep by 9, or 10 at the latest.
I hope this gives you all a better sense of what I’m up to. I plan to post again in a couple weeks with stories about my experiences with and observations of: the grave effects of asbestos on health and the environment in my area; racial divides and the legacy of apartheid; and the link between poverty, poor education, and crime here in South Africa. For now, I will leave you to enjoy the link to my favorite photos from my first three months: CLICK HERE.
Cheers!
