The thing about joining the Peace Corps is – no matter who you are or where you come from, even if you’re only in country for one day – you learn something about yourself. Why? Because you are made to see yourself in another context, in what sometimes feels like a totally separate world. You see yourself from a new perspective and, if you’re observant, you watch yourself adapt to your new environment in ways you couldn’t have imagined… and you listen to your intuition, that wise unconscious inner-voice that somehow knows you better than your consciousness probably ever will, and your intuition teaches you lessons you never knew you needed to know.
My previous blog entries were sculpted in a fashion meant to prevent family members from unnecessarily worrying about me and to prevent the US Peace Corps from kicking me out of country or censoring my blog. I’ve decided to write today’s blog entry in a more honest “tell all” fashion – and at the conclusion, I hope you will understand why.
Today’s Topic: What I’ve learned about my new environment, and what I’ve learned about myself – lessons I never knew I needed to know.
This is what I’ve observed and learned about my new environment:
LAYERS OF PRIVILEGE AND UNDERPRIVILEGE
*Exploitation of labor is a reality in every country in the world – particularly among immigrant populations and poor communities. Exploitation through asbestos mining has gravely affected health and economic life in Mafefe. During apartheid, poor black and “coloured” women, men, and children worked long grueling hours handling asbestos, a substance labeled one of the most significant carcinogens (cancer causing agents) to affect public health in the developing world during the 20th century (second only to cigarettes). Though the negative health affects of asbestos were proven as early as the late 1800s, the South African government allowed asbestos mining to flourish until the fall of apartheid in 1994… The last of the South African asbestos mines were closed in 1996, but clean-up to rid former mining communities of asbestos tillings has been slow and is far from complete. Here in Mafefe, I walk daily on roads covered with asbestos. I can reach down and pick it up in rock form or in dust form. You’ll find asbestos in the schools that children attend daily and in the dirt around and within the river that we drink from. When the wind blows it carries the asbestos fibers into the lungs of the local population. It is for this reason that the greatest health threat facing Mafefe community is lung disease, including the hardening of the lung, lung cancer, and tuberculosis (TB). As HIV rates rise in the area, immunity to all of the above is diminished and the pandemic is worsened. Are the corporations that hailed massive profits from the asbestos industry helping to pay for the medical costs on their former workers (many of whom have already died from lung disease), their exposed families, or their exposed communities? Hardly. Mafefe has opened my eyes to a real-life example of the sad, dark effects of corporate social IRRESPONSIBILITY.
*Poor people have limited access to nutritious food and pay more money to consume less nutritious foods from their home areas – while persons in middle- and upper- class areas have access to markets with diverse sources of nutritious food. Why? In large part because supermarkets see poor neighborhoods as “risky investments” and governments find economic incentive not to intervene, despite the fact that access to nutritious foods is a human right. Here in South Africa, I live in a rural village that is a 4 hour and 70 Rand round trip from the nearest supermarket. At least 80% of the people in my area are unemployed and surviving on minuscule government grants – yes, many survive on less than a dollar a day. Unlike me, most locals cannot afford to travel to town for foods not available here. Consequently, food related health problems are FAR more abundant in poor areas like Mafefe [health problems such as: cataracts/blindness (lack of vitamin A), diabetes (candy seems to be the cheapest available food here!), colon cancer (lack of fiber), bone diseases (lack of calcium), and other diseases resulting from malnutrition]. But this situation is not unique to South Africa – you’ll find similar correlation between lack of wealth and diseases resulting from lack of nutrition in poor neighbourhoods in even the wealthiest nation in the world (the U.S.). [For more information, I recommend: “Diet for a Dead Planet” by Christopher Cook]
*High rates of crime correlate with high rates of poverty – when people are desperate they will do what they must to survive. It is the mandate of local police to prevent crime, but in under-resourced areas police are often over-burdened and under-trained in crime prevention. South Africa vies for having the highest crime rate of any country Peace Corps serves in. In my temporary homestay village, in Northwest Province, I met a 14 year-old boy named “Shorty” whose mother had died just months before I arrived for training. His father and step-mother were very poor and hardly able to provide for him, I rarely saw him wearing shoes and he often came to our home for food supplements. On my last weekend in Northwest Province, Shorty jimmied my window open with a wire from our outside trash bin, took a long stick and a net (made from a produce sack), and reached through my window and across my room: fishing out and stealing my cell phone and Leatherman tool. My host father did some detective work, figured out that it was Shorty, and assisted the police in apprehending him and making him return the cell phone – but the police released Shorty before he returned the Leatherman and did not reprimand him in any way for the crime he committed. Sending him the message: “crime pays.” And it did. Hopefully Shorty got money for the tool and used it to eat and soothe his hunger pains… but it is also possible that Shorty has had a hard enough life to have spent that money on drugs or alcohol to escape the emotional pain he is also not receiving support for… In a second, related story, whenever I travel to Polokwane (the capital of Limpopo Province) I have to place a rain cover over my backpack – because the first time I went their I didn’t and about every 5 minutes different groups of street youth tried to get into my bag to steal anything they might find profitable. Crime is directly correlated with unemployment, poor education, and general poverty – all of which were forced upon South African populations during apartheid. Today, the legacy of apartheid is alive and kicking… but it’s important to remember that, anywhere in the world, where you find persons desperately struggling to survive the same patterns of crime will emerge.
*Education systems shape societies in profound ways – and faulty education systems often results in internalized oppression that can cripple a society for generations. During apartheid, where a person lived and HOW they were educated depended on strict definitions of race (defined by identity books distributed by the South African government). In terms of my experience: Among the older generation in my area, I have found mass illiteracy and few persons educated beyond primary school (especially among women). Those who completed their education during the last few decades of apartheid are now teaching the next generation through their interpretation of a new system called “Outcomes Based Education.” The method of teaching employed by many teachers is strikingly reminiscent of the methods used during apartheid – with teaching style remaining focused mainly on memorization and repetition where little to nothing done to encourage critical thinking or group work – critical thinking and the ability to work in groups being ESSENTIAL tools for healing wounds left by the oppressive and racist apartheid regime. It appears that critical thinking is a privilege of students raised in an environment where critical thinking is promoted. Having parents and teachers who promote critical thinking is a blessing, and it could take generations of re-educating teachers and parents before we see the majority of children here armed with critical thinking skills… the consequences for development, as well as peace and reconciliation, are quite significant.
*Internalized Oppression comes in many forms. In the industrial world, internalized oppression could take form in a woman who feels she cannot be beautiful if she does not shave her armpits or wax her eyebrows, or a man who does not show affection towards his male friends because he lives in a society that has taught him that is “gay” and non-heterosexuality is practically criminalized. In South Africa, internalized oppression is most potent in terms of race. The legacy of apartheid carries with it the continued message that ‘white is king’ and ‘black is inferior’ as if race were something that could truly define a person’s personality and abilities in life. For me, this has meant having people assume I know everything, expecting me to be wealthy and imagining I hold all the answers to their problems. When locals speak to me of white people of any nationality they tend to call them “your people,” as if we all shared one common culture and set of beliefs. To give a direct example, there is a woman I know here who has sacrificed everything to help develop and empower the people of her local community, touching lives and bringing light into the world in a way I would label heroic. But when she looks at me, she cannot see the respect and love that I hold for her. When I first met her I wanted to believe I could convince her that black is in fact not inferior, but I lost all hope a few weeks ago when I spent the night at her house where: She showed outward embarrassment at the state of her incredibly nice home, believing it did not meet my “white” standards. She showed disgust with her inability to feed me “white” quality food. And hardest of all to stomach, she insisted on changing the bed sheets and chemically washing her bathtub while announcing that she did not want to expose me to “all those nasty black germs.” What I can add to this story is that she is an old woman – internalized oppression in the form of disgust with her own race was normalized while she grew up and grew old during apartheid. While she may never be able to change her beliefs about race, I find hope among local youth and children who are lucky enough to be exposed to the growing number of people here who believe we were all created equal. It is this next generation that I believe will bring new light to race relations in this country… and it is this next generation that has taught me the importance of listening to the voices of children and youth across the world – who are, in fact, our future.
*And to end this section on a lighter note: the soccer world cup is coming to South Africa in 2010 (“twenty-ten”) and everyone I’ve met here is all aglow with hope. People envision job creation, increased economic stimulation, greater exchanges across cultures, and a South Africa united by the common goal of being the best hosts world cup goers have ever seen. I swear to you, people here get teary-eyed when they talk about “twenty-ten,” and I believe that that level of hope for prosperity and motivation for change will bring great things to this country.
CULTURE AND COMMUNITY
*Despite the grave hardships endured during the damningly oppressive apartheid system, AMAZING aspects of culture and tradition remain and thrive among South Africans – and the twenty-first century is a time of great hope.
-Some fear conflict and economic hardship suffocate culture and tradition – as if culture and tradition were specific items in history that could be doused out like a fire. I, rather, believe that culture and tradition are ever changing and adapting to new contexts and challenges… and I have seen that evidenced here in South Africa where I admire daily how very deep the roots between today’s South Africans and their ancestors run. Long held traditions have adapted to contemporary contexts, some of them have been marketed to tourists but many remain the sole property of the holders of those traditions. Christianity has swept widely across this country, and many denominations here shun traditional African beliefs and practices as “backwards” and “against the will of God.” Meanwhile, others have learned to incorporate such practices as the worship of ancestors and the use of traditional healers into their Christian or non-Christian lives. Cultural identities remain strong here and if anything I feel they were strengthened during and after apartheid.
-Koombi culture is my favorite culture in South Africa. Koombis are local taxis that look like Volkswagen Buses only they are filled with bench seats meant to hold 16 people, but often holding as many as 25. As far as I’ve seen, white people here are scared to ride the Koombis and associate them with crime – but I feel safer in a Koombi than I do anywhere else in South Africa. There are entire Koombi communities, made up of passengers, drivers, taxi rank directors, and taxi rank retailers who sell peanuts and soft drinks as if you were at a baseball stadium. Koombi culture spans cultural divides, including the Bapedi, Batswana, Basotho, Itsonga, Zulu, Venda, SiSwati, and then some. Koombis are a great way to meet people, and some of my most meaningful conversations in country have taken place on a Koombi. On a Koombi I feel protected as a friend of the community, just as much if not more than I do within my own home here in Mafefe.
-I’ve found strict division in gender roles and gendered identities among the people I live with. Women tend to be thought of as soft and fragile and men are expected to be very strong… But despite conceptions of hyper-masculinity among males here, not a day goes by when I don’t see same-sex adults and children strolling along holding hands. Same gender affection is all the rage here. I’d love to bottle that practice and bring back to the US. Why can’t we all openly hold hands and express love to our same-sex friend as if he/she were a sister/brother?!
-Any class on African culture will discuss the significance of singing and dancing across the board. The common/stereotypical image of this is a group of topless women and men in loin cloths running around a camp fire shouting out to distant Gods. While this may happen somewhere, I’ve in no way observed it here. The dancing I’ve seen in my village seems more like country-western line dancing, with everyone sharing the same steps and basking in the way it unifies them. If you are an outsider and come to learn their dance steps, you will be well loved. Song seems to be incorporated into every activity here. My organization begins its meetings with a prayer song, my neighbors play local songs loudly by stereo all night long at their funeral parties, my host nephews fill the silence between our conversations with uninhibited song, and my host mother sings traditional songs all day long whether she’s cleaning or healing.
-Despite widespread poverty and lack of resources and tangible wealth, the people I interact with in South Africa are some of the most giving and charitable people I’ve met in my life. They will offer you their last loaf of bread and the only bed in their house without a single second’s hesitation. They will welcome you into their communities and hearts without any request for retribution. In South Africa, they call this “Ubuntu.” There is a lot we all could learn from that. It is another part of this place that I’d like to bottle up and bring home with me.
-Africans, including South Africans, are well-known for their family and community centric sense of identity. Broadly speaking, the most notable difference I see between cultures here and cultures in America is that rural South Africans tend to favor forming their identity mostly in terms of their connections with and membership in a group, whereas Americans are encouraged to develop their identity as unique individuals. When I walk down the streets of Mafefe people tend to either call me “Machete” to indicate my connection with my host family or “Masadi wa Daniel”/ “Wife of Daniel” to indicate my partnership with my partner Dan and his family. I believe one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned here so far is the incredible value of family and community. When I explain that I left my life partner and family behind, people here shake their heads and look away, unable to understand or relate to the desire to spend two years away from my most dear love ones. The longer I’m here, the more I share that perspective.
This is what I’ve observed and learned about myself:
-As a middle-class white American, I have notable mobility across lines and layers of privilege. This means that with the drop of a pin I can go from bucket bathing and cooking over a fire to eating in a restaurant and showering in a lodge. It means I can use my lap top to connect to you through the internet, and then go wash my clothes by hand and help my host mother catch a chicken to fry up for dinner. It means when I walk through my village I am treated like an Angelina Jolie calliber celebrity with children asking for my autograph, but when I go to the capital city I can blend in with anonymity just like everyone else. It means when I go into a South African store the staff are likely to see my skin color and assume I won’t steal anything, and they might be all the more interested in giving me “good deals” once they hear my accent and learn where I’m from. And it means I can join up with an organization like Peace Corps and come live in a place like this, only to decide later to return to the comforts of home I left behind.
-South Africa has made me face parts of my own internalized oppression that I’d never examined before – namely that I’ve spent my entire adult life sacrificing personal desires for professional and career goals. But one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned about myself here is that I’m ready now more than ever to acknowledge how much I value the community I left behind in the US.
-There is a country song I love with lyrics advising listeners to “live each day like you were dying.” Attending funerals every week here has taught me how short life can be, and if I were to live like I were dying I’d choose to do it with the people who matter most to me: my family, my friends, and especially my life partner. If today is all we have, then I want to spend it where I’m happiest. And that is one of a multitude of reasons that I’ve decided to come home.
-Professionally and personally, I will always be happiest if I feel I’m engaged in something meaningful – and Peace Corps has solidified in my mind that more than anything I want to spend the rest of my life alongside my loved ones, advocating for positive social change both globally and locally.
-The challenges in South Africa are but a magnified reflection of global challenges and global inequities. Early-on during my stay in South Africa I heard a television news announcer say about the economy: “When America sneezes the whole world feels it.” The USA is the wealthiest and arguably most powerful nation in the world. If my home country truly has that much influence, and I believe it does, then what better place to focus on developing sustainable alternatives to existing global issues? My short time with Peace Corps has convinced me that the best place to for me to advocate for social change is: at home.
-My days here in South Africa are now being spent tying up loose ends and saying my goodbyes. I do not want to leave without assuring the friends I’ve made here (including the school girl from my last entry) that I will be in touch – and hope to continue to help connect them with resources from over seas. People here are very understanding of my decision; it’s the one they would have made themselves.
-I’d like to end this entry by TRULY TRULY thanking each of you for your support through what was a much shorter-lived Peace Corps experience than I expected. I expect to be home before the New Year. Please do not send any more letters by post, but feel free to drop me an email anytime!
