Last week I wrote a long weblog post on my personal frustrations and random sad, discouraging stories that are part of the culture. This Tuesday my motherboard took her last drag off the power cord and called it quits. So along with many other valuable pieces of data- so went my blog.
In a fit of need I went to town that same day and purchased a notebook. As I walked to the computer store I wore my jeans, sunglasses, smile, and backpack. I was weaving in and out of pedestrian sidewalk traffic at a brisk pace, per usual. When suddenly I felt a tug on my backpack- I spun my head to the right and spotted a man dabbing his nose with a handkerchief. Alright, maybe I was just bumped, fine. Not 3 seconds later I felt a more distinguished tug again. I whipped my body around and grabbed the man’s wrist with fierceness. He started shouting “Vhat? Vhat?. . . ” and I caused a scene with words. I threw my backpack in front and found the zipper of the outer compartment fully opened but the items (Nalgene bottles and gum) untouched. As the man disappeared into the crowd I walked on with shaky legs, elevated pulse, and a series of conversations with the women who witnessed the incident.
Crime is happening everyday in every South African community. (Not to say that it’s not that way in America.) There’s the non-profit managers who take money that’s meant for the OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children), the various governmental departments who spent 60% of their allotted funds on salaries, the police who work primarily on bribes, the payoffs for elections, the list goes on and on. Corruption is prevalent from the ANC all the way down to the school teacher.
Ubuntu means “I am because you are;” it’s a way of life. In the various South African cultures emphasis is on the group instead of the individual. If you come to my home, anything in the fridge is yours, your children sweep my yard if they play here, and there is always enough room for one more person in the given room/coombi. But ubuntu is not so idealistic in its reality. It is also a way to keep people from leaving the group, from succeeding. It is a way to use mass force to pull the individual back down to the level of the norm.
Example one: A man who lived in Troya,Marapyane owned a shop. As his shop flourished his neighbors began to envy him. In January they came into his home and injured him slightly, they came back last month and killed him.
Example two: My headmaster, Patrick, has turned an average school into a highly effective one. English is the medium of instruction; the learners are actually learning and performing well on exams. Consequently, the enrollment is 760 learners from 12 communities. As you can imagine the principals of these other community schools are not happy to see their enrollment dropping. (Keep in mind other schools probably have one/all of the following: teachers who do not know or teach in English- which is the language of national exams starting grade 4, teachers who sleep during class, those who choose to not teach, those who sit outside, those who don’t come, schools without books, without computers, without organization, etc.)
His success and drive has caused him so many issues. Next week there are SGB elections and principals from schools in the area are supposed to partner for the process. No one wanted to work with him, so he is the only person working alone. (Keep in mind many of these principal’s children attend Patrick’s school.) Yesterday we had people from the Department of Education here going through paperwork because we are under investigation . . . why? The only reason those in charge can figure out is because of all that’s right, the department believes something must be wrong. Then just today Patrick showed me a text message he was sent, written in Sepedi that said, “If you want to live, you must leave Mannyetha(the school).”
But, as Patrick says: “But what can we do? We must go on; we must go on.”
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Chicago's Best
To begin- some disappointing news. . . As I wrote previously, my village was going to be receiving a Perfector-E water purification system. I just found out after a great deal of stalking the sponsors that it’s not happening. The primary reason is the additional expense of having to build a kilometer long pipe and pump from the river to the village. While I can logically understand this I am totally saddened that this opportunity has passed. Let’s start the process again . . .
Last Tuesday I invited an intimate group of sixth grade girls over to my home for a pizza party. If you understand my life here then you know what I’m going to say next- it turned into a chaotic group of well over 30 boys and girls. I laid out a mat in the yard, far away from the home, so as to not make a mess of the front stoop that my host mother so diligently cleans twice a daily. The older girls sat on the mat to shred cheese and tomatoes while I made the dough. In the hour it took for the flour to rise kids of all ages showed up with hungry bellies. I brought out a dozen colors of polish, a couple of jump ropes, crayons, and coloring books. When the time to assemble the pizzas I had to stick to my initial plan and only let the grade six girls take part. Upon cooking 4 pizzas I brought out 2” square pieces on a tray and had the kids form a line. They maintained order somewhat well for the first serving, but when it was time for seconds and everyone did not get a piece there were a few incidents of theft. Knowing how pizza creates thirst I brought out a single 2 liter of crystal light juice. Again, the kids formed a line for a single sip. But somehow the tallest kids made it to the front of the cue again while the Toka’s of the group were left dry-mouthed. Shame. Knowing the value of water for my family, I was unable to make more than 2 containers of juice. But still I’m certain the afternoon was a success. Everyone- I mean everyone- left with colored toenails, a taste of American culture, and a somewhat more satisfied stomach. (Pictures on Picasa!)
Today I was hoping to get a jump start on an idea for the girls club. I gathered 7 girls, armed with 3 reed cutting blades (think u-shaped knives) to head to the river. We were on our way when a grandmother began shouting. With a little help translating I learned that we could not cut the reeds today. Why? If we were to cut the reeds now, instead of in two weeks, the mermaids would get angry. They would make our houses walk away by causing rain storms. In all seriousness the kids understood this reasoning. You just never know the obstacles you’re going to face in Peace Corps. . .
Last Tuesday I invited an intimate group of sixth grade girls over to my home for a pizza party. If you understand my life here then you know what I’m going to say next- it turned into a chaotic group of well over 30 boys and girls. I laid out a mat in the yard, far away from the home, so as to not make a mess of the front stoop that my host mother so diligently cleans twice a daily. The older girls sat on the mat to shred cheese and tomatoes while I made the dough. In the hour it took for the flour to rise kids of all ages showed up with hungry bellies. I brought out a dozen colors of polish, a couple of jump ropes, crayons, and coloring books. When the time to assemble the pizzas I had to stick to my initial plan and only let the grade six girls take part. Upon cooking 4 pizzas I brought out 2” square pieces on a tray and had the kids form a line. They maintained order somewhat well for the first serving, but when it was time for seconds and everyone did not get a piece there were a few incidents of theft. Knowing how pizza creates thirst I brought out a single 2 liter of crystal light juice. Again, the kids formed a line for a single sip. But somehow the tallest kids made it to the front of the cue again while the Toka’s of the group were left dry-mouthed. Shame. Knowing the value of water for my family, I was unable to make more than 2 containers of juice. But still I’m certain the afternoon was a success. Everyone- I mean everyone- left with colored toenails, a taste of American culture, and a somewhat more satisfied stomach. (Pictures on Picasa!)
Today I was hoping to get a jump start on an idea for the girls club. I gathered 7 girls, armed with 3 reed cutting blades (think u-shaped knives) to head to the river. We were on our way when a grandmother began shouting. With a little help translating I learned that we could not cut the reeds today. Why? If we were to cut the reeds now, instead of in two weeks, the mermaids would get angry. They would make our houses walk away by causing rain storms. In all seriousness the kids understood this reasoning. You just never know the obstacles you’re going to face in Peace Corps. . .
4th grade questions. .
I have been communicating with my cousin Renee Bromer’s 4th grade teacher in Naperville, IL. Ms. Veach sent me this adorable list of questions from her class. I have also included my responses.
Nick wants to know: Do you eat pancakes in SouthAfrica? (Not normally, but you can find crepes here, which are called pancakes. And how do you say "Hello"? Thobela! (Toe-bell-ah)
Maegan wants to know: Do you celebrate birthdays? How do you celebrate? What kinds of birthday traditions do you have? (We do celebrate birthdays by having cake, but they are never celebrated at school and some people don’t know when their real birthday is, so they just celebrate around the time of their birthdays.)
Nick asks: What kind of wildlife do you have that you see on a regular basis? We see bunnies and robins and ducks, what kinds of things do you see? (We see goats, donkeys, cows, sheep, chickens, dogs, cats, snakes, rats, many types of birds and insects. Sometimes we see monkeys by the river! )
Nora has 2 questions: What kind of sports do you do? What do you eat for breakfast and dinner, normally? (Girls play netball which is somewhat similar to basketball but played on dirt usually. Boys play soccer. Normally people eat bread and butter or pap and chicken for most meals. Pap is a white thick corn-based food that really fills you up and people eat it for most meals.)
Nick would like to know how long your school days are. Our school day goes from 9:05 to 3:35. (Here school is from 7-3.)
Joey asks: Do you have the book, "Green Eggs and Ham" by Dr. Seuss? And have you read it? (Hehe, I love that book! No, we don't have that book here sadly.)
Renee asks: Do you have fast food places like McDonald's in your country? (We do have McDonald's here, but KFC is much more popular! Plus we have fast food places called: Chicken Licken and Something Fishy. Most people in my village do not leave so they can't eat there often.)
Tommy wants to know: Do your houses have basements? And do you have a lot of food to eat? (No houses here have basements. -What an interesting question!- People do not have very much food to eat here, just enough to get by. )
Aarij wants to know: How do you keep people safe from the pit latrine (they had a lot of questions about this)? (Haha! It's a regular toliet you sit on, but instead of flushing it when you're done everything just falls into a big pit. When children are being potty trained they just go outside on the ground until they are big enough for the toliet.)
Leen asks: If you do have McDonald's or fast food, do they serve the same foods that they serve here? (They serve many similar foods at fast food restaurants, people love to eat french fries, but here they are called chips and chips are called snacks.)
Wyli wants to know if your homes are far apart or close together? Can you walk to each other's houses easily? (Because of the history of apartheid in this country, prior to 1994 people of each different color had to live in their own areas. (blacks, colored (mixed race), indian, and white) So now this is slowly changing in urban areas but in the rural areas, where I live, only black people live here. The homes are close together because the apartheid government made black people live in one small area. We can easily walk to each others homes.)
Jacob wants to know if you go on field trips. (Once a year my school tries to organize a field trip to the city. )
Kayla asks: Is there such a thing as a white giraffe? (We read a book about one in class together) (Hehe, not that I know of. . but it’s very likely. . there are white lions!)
Lucas wants to know: Do you have any pets at home? What kinds of animals? (Some people have dogs or cats but people here do not treat animals like we do in the states. Animals usually just eat scraps or hunt for food. They are very skinny and have many diseases. Kids throw sticks at dogs or sometimes beat them. I recently was given a kitten and have been treating it really well to show others what a great friend a pet can be if you love them. )
Brendan wants to know if you know the Double Cheeseburger song from McDonald's. (Nope. Is this a popular song now?)
Robby asks: Has a villager ever been eaten by a lion? Has a stampede of elephants ever come through the village? (Haha, not here! But I know that one friend of mine had to take a car to school because lions roamed near her home. Sometimes a hippo or crocodile will be found in the river. In the past few months 3 dogs and 1 child were killed by a green mamba.)
Dorinda wants to know if anyone has ever seen or touched a white giraffe. (Not in my village!)
Nick wants to know: Do you eat pancakes in SouthAfrica? (Not normally, but you can find crepes here, which are called pancakes. And how do you say "Hello"? Thobela! (Toe-bell-ah)
Maegan wants to know: Do you celebrate birthdays? How do you celebrate? What kinds of birthday traditions do you have? (We do celebrate birthdays by having cake, but they are never celebrated at school and some people don’t know when their real birthday is, so they just celebrate around the time of their birthdays.)
Nick asks: What kind of wildlife do you have that you see on a regular basis? We see bunnies and robins and ducks, what kinds of things do you see? (We see goats, donkeys, cows, sheep, chickens, dogs, cats, snakes, rats, many types of birds and insects. Sometimes we see monkeys by the river! )
Nora has 2 questions: What kind of sports do you do? What do you eat for breakfast and dinner, normally? (Girls play netball which is somewhat similar to basketball but played on dirt usually. Boys play soccer. Normally people eat bread and butter or pap and chicken for most meals. Pap is a white thick corn-based food that really fills you up and people eat it for most meals.)
Nick would like to know how long your school days are. Our school day goes from 9:05 to 3:35. (Here school is from 7-3.)
Joey asks: Do you have the book, "Green Eggs and Ham" by Dr. Seuss? And have you read it? (Hehe, I love that book! No, we don't have that book here sadly.)
Renee asks: Do you have fast food places like McDonald's in your country? (We do have McDonald's here, but KFC is much more popular! Plus we have fast food places called: Chicken Licken and Something Fishy. Most people in my village do not leave so they can't eat there often.)
Tommy wants to know: Do your houses have basements? And do you have a lot of food to eat? (No houses here have basements. -What an interesting question!- People do not have very much food to eat here, just enough to get by. )
Aarij wants to know: How do you keep people safe from the pit latrine (they had a lot of questions about this)? (Haha! It's a regular toliet you sit on, but instead of flushing it when you're done everything just falls into a big pit. When children are being potty trained they just go outside on the ground until they are big enough for the toliet.)
Leen asks: If you do have McDonald's or fast food, do they serve the same foods that they serve here? (They serve many similar foods at fast food restaurants, people love to eat french fries, but here they are called chips and chips are called snacks.)
Wyli wants to know if your homes are far apart or close together? Can you walk to each other's houses easily? (Because of the history of apartheid in this country, prior to 1994 people of each different color had to live in their own areas. (blacks, colored (mixed race), indian, and white) So now this is slowly changing in urban areas but in the rural areas, where I live, only black people live here. The homes are close together because the apartheid government made black people live in one small area. We can easily walk to each others homes.)
Jacob wants to know if you go on field trips. (Once a year my school tries to organize a field trip to the city. )
Kayla asks: Is there such a thing as a white giraffe? (We read a book about one in class together) (Hehe, not that I know of. . but it’s very likely. . there are white lions!)
Lucas wants to know: Do you have any pets at home? What kinds of animals? (Some people have dogs or cats but people here do not treat animals like we do in the states. Animals usually just eat scraps or hunt for food. They are very skinny and have many diseases. Kids throw sticks at dogs or sometimes beat them. I recently was given a kitten and have been treating it really well to show others what a great friend a pet can be if you love them. )
Brendan wants to know if you know the Double Cheeseburger song from McDonald's. (Nope. Is this a popular song now?)
Robby asks: Has a villager ever been eaten by a lion? Has a stampede of elephants ever come through the village? (Haha, not here! But I know that one friend of mine had to take a car to school because lions roamed near her home. Sometimes a hippo or crocodile will be found in the river. In the past few months 3 dogs and 1 child were killed by a green mamba.)
Dorinda wants to know if anyone has ever seen or touched a white giraffe. (Not in my village!)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Tumelo's Wedding
This past weekend I was a bridesmaid for the first time in my life. I had some “standard responsibilities” such as: assisting the bride with her gowns, dancing, and wearing the same dress as 9 other women. But that is really the only point where “standard responsibilities” for an American and South African bridesmaid overlap.
I was asked a couple of months ago to be a bridesmaid for a woman who lives in my community. We had not had a friendship that went beyond greeting each other up until that point. But I was flattered none the less that she thought of asking me.
Friday 4pm: I arrive at the home of Tumelo, the bride, to pick up and try on my dress. Upon crossing my small, dusty village I arrive at Tumelo’s home where I am greeted by the stares of a dozen drunken men on the left hand side of the yard. With no more than a smile I turn towards the house, on the right side. In the backyard I find a dark tent (to be used for cooking), a caldron of traditional beer, and many grandmothers cooking porridge over a fire. I soon find a few young women who speak English. After a couple of hours of mingling the young women of the community gather on the front stoop- each armed with a knife brought from their homes. As I thought I was coming only for a dress fitting I needed to run home to collect my knife and peeler- wow, the peeler was a hit! We then begin to chop and peel the following vegetables: butternut (stains hands orange), carrots, potatoes, onions (my hands smelled for 2 days), peppers, tomatoes, cabbage, etc. Three hours later the sun has set and the vegetables are finished. We take a tea and biscuit break (biscuits are special for the wedding). While the young women were preparing vegetables the grandmothers were slaughtering and de-feathering twenty-some chickens.
Next up on the list of bridesmaid responsibilities: butchering chicken. Women work in twos for this task. One holds and pulls the body and the other saws with a dull knife. Since nothing goes to waste here the liver and intestines are tossed into a metal pan. Another pair of young women has the esteemed responsibility of taking the intestines and pushing a knife through the center, so as to slice the tube open. As feces squirts out, the smell nauseates me. But the seventh and eighth grade boys who stand in the darkness just outside the stoop beg me to give them a piece of intestines. . Nope. No way. I do not partake in this task; instead I turn to cutting sweet potatoes.
But just as I think I have escaped a task, the next appears without my having time to hesitate. A woman who is one of the cooks/cleaners at the school grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. I seem to have forgotten to mention that all this time traditional synthesized African music has been blasting from mega speakers into my ear (the same 20 songs). She insists on teaching me to dance so that I am prepared for tomorrow. We go round and round the porch line dancing. Although I feel confident, the laughter of dozens of women makes me question myself.
By 9pm I’ve heard Tumelo report that the dresses will be arriving “now now” more than 3 times and I’m tired. Plus my walking partner, Athlida, is ready to leave. So we do.
Saturday 5:30am: I’m up before the sun- bundled to keep warm in the morning darkness- and arrive at Tumelo’s to again find a dozen men drinking on the left and even more old women cooking in the back. The rest of the bridesmaids are awake after a mere 3 hours of sleep and cooking over temporary gas stoves in the food tent.
For the next 4 hours I am again chopping vegetables and stirring pots. At 10:30 I walk with 2 other bridesmaids across the village to the seamstress’s (Nancy’s) home to try on my dress. Up until this point I have no idea what to expect. So I am pleasantly surprised when I find a modern looking 2 piece, with a tube top and jacket. All three women strip and gown up. My tops too large and it happens to conveniently fall down just as a man crosses the doorway. No biggie, breasts are seen all the time here. Nancy alters the top and I’m back to the bride’s home for another hour.
12pm: I am free to go home, nap, bathe and then return by 2 for the wedding. While at home Karabo tells me her grandmother (my host mother) said that I can’t dance. Haha
Let me set the scene: half acre lot, 2 small homes, 2 large tents (one for food prep, one for ceremony), 30-40 overly drunk men, 20 grandmothers cooking, 20 children playing, 50 people of all ages dressed in their finest sitting in plastic chairs in the front yard., music blasting, cows mooing, grandmother’s shrieking in happiness, people dancing. . . although the wedding hasn’t begun officially the crowd has already been fed. At a South African wedding, everyone is invited and there is always enough food for one more mouth.
While Tumelo is having her fake nails glued on the groom sits besides her talking. The bridesmaids are drawing on eyebrows and glossing their lips. Her first dress of the day is white. She wears a veil, gloves, and pearls. She holds artificial flowers. The groom leaves just before the procession begins, he his groomsmen line up behind him. Flower girls lead the line of women out the front door of the home where we are matched with random partners of the opposite sex. We walk together, two-by-two in a dancing step, swinging our arms to the beat. People are sitting and standing all around as we circle the stoop, then out into the yard, and finally out into the street. Throughout the procession I receive cheers from community members and smiles/giggles from the children. Our procession is lead by a man in a top hat who holds a stick with a white flag high in the air so that everyone knows a wedding is going on. His eyes are barely open due to the copious amounts of alcohol he’s already consumed and remarkably his eyes remain in this state for the next 30 hours.
Before the procession reenters the yard the women of the bride’s family kneel and sing a song of welcome. As we step/dance back into the yard the bridal party enters the fabulously decorated tent. The bride and groom sit on a couch that is covered with a white sheet and raised a foot in the air. In front of them are 6 cakes. The bridal party sits at round tables and is greeted by an appetizer plate of chips, sweets, and mints, all mixed together.
There is a strict agenda for the wedding that will be under the direction of the emcee. We begin with a prayer, followed by the introduction of the wedding party. When I’m introduced the emcee asks if I’m single. Unfortunately his inebriation has not yet affected his short term memory so throughout the ceremony says several times over the echoing microphone “Molly, you with us?” The cameraman also had quite an attraction to me and so I’m sure I will occupy easily 20% of the wedding tape doing random things (eating with my fingers, daydreaming, wiping sweat from my forehead, laughing at the drunk men, staring adoringly at the straight-faced bride).
As the vows are exchanged I am not sure a single person is paying attention, this includes the bride and groom. They are not looking at each other or the priest. So peculiar . . in any case they end up exchanging gold rings and watches and there is a small applause. But still no kiss. I take it upon myself to teach the women and men at my table an American tradition, we start tapping our water glasses with forks. The emcee catches way and the man next to me shouts “We demand a kiss!” Tumelo looks at me sternly and suddenly I feel like I’m four years old. No kiss.
The vows are followed by the wedding party feasting on traditional foods, many of which have been ruined by a smothering of mayo. My thirst is hardly satisfied by the salty tap water. I yearn for a cold drink. Looking at the program I see cold drink does not come until after 3 speeches. . eish. After zoning out for 30 minutes I rejoin the wedding as 3 bottles of champagne are placed near the wedding cakes. The emcee calls me up to take a bottle. Two other bridesmaids join me. Tumelo tells me to shake the bottle and spray it over the cakes. As I thumb off the cork, a majority of the foam sprays onto the table. . I pour a full glass of champagne for Tumelo and her husband and leave the bottle on the cake table. The rest of the wedding party guests have a bit of champagne for toasting purposes. It turns out that Tumelo doesn’t drink. I watch her pour an entire bottle of champagne into the dirt.
After sipping the champagne the bridal party again lines up in pairs and us women dance our way back into the house. Costume change! We button brown fabric onto our shirts, put on a matching jacket, and tie a scarf in our hair. The bride puts on a gorgeous brown and orange traditional dress. We dance back out and redo the entire ceremony. . . this time relatives bring the new couple gifts of cups, plates, bowls, pots, etc. We again dance to the house again and the bride changes into a leather skirt and jacket. We dance in a circle, go inside change and voila- the wedding is finished. (Sorry for my lack of enthusiasm, it was a daunting experience.)
When I just said the wedding is finished, I meant for the day. Just before the wedding party departs for the groom’s home (with all 6 uneaten wedding cakes) I am called in to Tumelo’s room. Although I arrived at her home with my overnight bag she says that it would be better if I just arrive at the grooms the next day. I was actually upset about being uninvited to the grooms. My mind swells with possibly explanations for the change of plans- is there a traditional event that I can’t partake in? Does she not want me to go to the groom’s home? I later find out she didn’t want me to have to sleep on the ground with the 12 women in one room. I promptly tell Tumelo that I want to be treated just as everyone else and I add in “I slept on the ground for the first three months here!”
Sunday was essentially the same as Saturday. A few differences: bride wore an additional traditional dress, we actually ate the cakes, more drunk men than I have ever seen, and we took a ride around the village in a car! Also, since no one knew me in this village I spotted dozens more camera phones creeping around to shoot photos of me.
I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of being a part of Tumelo’s wedding day. Since most of my three days were consumed by Sepedi voices I had ample opportunity to enjoy mental solidarity. A few thoughts and topics surfaced again and again.
1: Alcoholism in men- this cultures lack of recognizing the seriousness of it, the way females still hold conversations with them, the way people do not even flinch at people who are passed out in the middle of the dance floor.
2: Work Ethic of women- never do these women complain about bearing the majority of work, or about their lack of sleep
3: Lack of Affection- there is never holding of hands, kissing, hugging, between any members of the opposite sex, or even really between mothers and children
(if you read this far, thanks, I know this was a boring post:-)
Look at photos of the wedding on my Picasa page!
I was asked a couple of months ago to be a bridesmaid for a woman who lives in my community. We had not had a friendship that went beyond greeting each other up until that point. But I was flattered none the less that she thought of asking me.
Friday 4pm: I arrive at the home of Tumelo, the bride, to pick up and try on my dress. Upon crossing my small, dusty village I arrive at Tumelo’s home where I am greeted by the stares of a dozen drunken men on the left hand side of the yard. With no more than a smile I turn towards the house, on the right side. In the backyard I find a dark tent (to be used for cooking), a caldron of traditional beer, and many grandmothers cooking porridge over a fire. I soon find a few young women who speak English. After a couple of hours of mingling the young women of the community gather on the front stoop- each armed with a knife brought from their homes. As I thought I was coming only for a dress fitting I needed to run home to collect my knife and peeler- wow, the peeler was a hit! We then begin to chop and peel the following vegetables: butternut (stains hands orange), carrots, potatoes, onions (my hands smelled for 2 days), peppers, tomatoes, cabbage, etc. Three hours later the sun has set and the vegetables are finished. We take a tea and biscuit break (biscuits are special for the wedding). While the young women were preparing vegetables the grandmothers were slaughtering and de-feathering twenty-some chickens.
Next up on the list of bridesmaid responsibilities: butchering chicken. Women work in twos for this task. One holds and pulls the body and the other saws with a dull knife. Since nothing goes to waste here the liver and intestines are tossed into a metal pan. Another pair of young women has the esteemed responsibility of taking the intestines and pushing a knife through the center, so as to slice the tube open. As feces squirts out, the smell nauseates me. But the seventh and eighth grade boys who stand in the darkness just outside the stoop beg me to give them a piece of intestines. . Nope. No way. I do not partake in this task; instead I turn to cutting sweet potatoes.
But just as I think I have escaped a task, the next appears without my having time to hesitate. A woman who is one of the cooks/cleaners at the school grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. I seem to have forgotten to mention that all this time traditional synthesized African music has been blasting from mega speakers into my ear (the same 20 songs). She insists on teaching me to dance so that I am prepared for tomorrow. We go round and round the porch line dancing. Although I feel confident, the laughter of dozens of women makes me question myself.
By 9pm I’ve heard Tumelo report that the dresses will be arriving “now now” more than 3 times and I’m tired. Plus my walking partner, Athlida, is ready to leave. So we do.
Saturday 5:30am: I’m up before the sun- bundled to keep warm in the morning darkness- and arrive at Tumelo’s to again find a dozen men drinking on the left and even more old women cooking in the back. The rest of the bridesmaids are awake after a mere 3 hours of sleep and cooking over temporary gas stoves in the food tent.
For the next 4 hours I am again chopping vegetables and stirring pots. At 10:30 I walk with 2 other bridesmaids across the village to the seamstress’s (Nancy’s) home to try on my dress. Up until this point I have no idea what to expect. So I am pleasantly surprised when I find a modern looking 2 piece, with a tube top and jacket. All three women strip and gown up. My tops too large and it happens to conveniently fall down just as a man crosses the doorway. No biggie, breasts are seen all the time here. Nancy alters the top and I’m back to the bride’s home for another hour.
12pm: I am free to go home, nap, bathe and then return by 2 for the wedding. While at home Karabo tells me her grandmother (my host mother) said that I can’t dance. Haha
Let me set the scene: half acre lot, 2 small homes, 2 large tents (one for food prep, one for ceremony), 30-40 overly drunk men, 20 grandmothers cooking, 20 children playing, 50 people of all ages dressed in their finest sitting in plastic chairs in the front yard., music blasting, cows mooing, grandmother’s shrieking in happiness, people dancing. . . although the wedding hasn’t begun officially the crowd has already been fed. At a South African wedding, everyone is invited and there is always enough food for one more mouth.
While Tumelo is having her fake nails glued on the groom sits besides her talking. The bridesmaids are drawing on eyebrows and glossing their lips. Her first dress of the day is white. She wears a veil, gloves, and pearls. She holds artificial flowers. The groom leaves just before the procession begins, he his groomsmen line up behind him. Flower girls lead the line of women out the front door of the home where we are matched with random partners of the opposite sex. We walk together, two-by-two in a dancing step, swinging our arms to the beat. People are sitting and standing all around as we circle the stoop, then out into the yard, and finally out into the street. Throughout the procession I receive cheers from community members and smiles/giggles from the children. Our procession is lead by a man in a top hat who holds a stick with a white flag high in the air so that everyone knows a wedding is going on. His eyes are barely open due to the copious amounts of alcohol he’s already consumed and remarkably his eyes remain in this state for the next 30 hours.
Before the procession reenters the yard the women of the bride’s family kneel and sing a song of welcome. As we step/dance back into the yard the bridal party enters the fabulously decorated tent. The bride and groom sit on a couch that is covered with a white sheet and raised a foot in the air. In front of them are 6 cakes. The bridal party sits at round tables and is greeted by an appetizer plate of chips, sweets, and mints, all mixed together.
There is a strict agenda for the wedding that will be under the direction of the emcee. We begin with a prayer, followed by the introduction of the wedding party. When I’m introduced the emcee asks if I’m single. Unfortunately his inebriation has not yet affected his short term memory so throughout the ceremony says several times over the echoing microphone “Molly, you with us?” The cameraman also had quite an attraction to me and so I’m sure I will occupy easily 20% of the wedding tape doing random things (eating with my fingers, daydreaming, wiping sweat from my forehead, laughing at the drunk men, staring adoringly at the straight-faced bride).
As the vows are exchanged I am not sure a single person is paying attention, this includes the bride and groom. They are not looking at each other or the priest. So peculiar . . in any case they end up exchanging gold rings and watches and there is a small applause. But still no kiss. I take it upon myself to teach the women and men at my table an American tradition, we start tapping our water glasses with forks. The emcee catches way and the man next to me shouts “We demand a kiss!” Tumelo looks at me sternly and suddenly I feel like I’m four years old. No kiss.
The vows are followed by the wedding party feasting on traditional foods, many of which have been ruined by a smothering of mayo. My thirst is hardly satisfied by the salty tap water. I yearn for a cold drink. Looking at the program I see cold drink does not come until after 3 speeches. . eish. After zoning out for 30 minutes I rejoin the wedding as 3 bottles of champagne are placed near the wedding cakes. The emcee calls me up to take a bottle. Two other bridesmaids join me. Tumelo tells me to shake the bottle and spray it over the cakes. As I thumb off the cork, a majority of the foam sprays onto the table. . I pour a full glass of champagne for Tumelo and her husband and leave the bottle on the cake table. The rest of the wedding party guests have a bit of champagne for toasting purposes. It turns out that Tumelo doesn’t drink. I watch her pour an entire bottle of champagne into the dirt.
After sipping the champagne the bridal party again lines up in pairs and us women dance our way back into the house. Costume change! We button brown fabric onto our shirts, put on a matching jacket, and tie a scarf in our hair. The bride puts on a gorgeous brown and orange traditional dress. We dance back out and redo the entire ceremony. . . this time relatives bring the new couple gifts of cups, plates, bowls, pots, etc. We again dance to the house again and the bride changes into a leather skirt and jacket. We dance in a circle, go inside change and voila- the wedding is finished. (Sorry for my lack of enthusiasm, it was a daunting experience.)
When I just said the wedding is finished, I meant for the day. Just before the wedding party departs for the groom’s home (with all 6 uneaten wedding cakes) I am called in to Tumelo’s room. Although I arrived at her home with my overnight bag she says that it would be better if I just arrive at the grooms the next day. I was actually upset about being uninvited to the grooms. My mind swells with possibly explanations for the change of plans- is there a traditional event that I can’t partake in? Does she not want me to go to the groom’s home? I later find out she didn’t want me to have to sleep on the ground with the 12 women in one room. I promptly tell Tumelo that I want to be treated just as everyone else and I add in “I slept on the ground for the first three months here!”
Sunday was essentially the same as Saturday. A few differences: bride wore an additional traditional dress, we actually ate the cakes, more drunk men than I have ever seen, and we took a ride around the village in a car! Also, since no one knew me in this village I spotted dozens more camera phones creeping around to shoot photos of me.
I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of being a part of Tumelo’s wedding day. Since most of my three days were consumed by Sepedi voices I had ample opportunity to enjoy mental solidarity. A few thoughts and topics surfaced again and again.
1: Alcoholism in men- this cultures lack of recognizing the seriousness of it, the way females still hold conversations with them, the way people do not even flinch at people who are passed out in the middle of the dance floor.
2: Work Ethic of women- never do these women complain about bearing the majority of work, or about their lack of sleep
3: Lack of Affection- there is never holding of hands, kissing, hugging, between any members of the opposite sex, or even really between mothers and children
(if you read this far, thanks, I know this was a boring post:-)
Look at photos of the wedding on my Picasa page!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Longtom
tThe nine month mark of living in South Africa will be here in a week. . .
So on the 28th of March I participated in the Longtom Marathon! Walking 21,1km is by far the longest officially measured distance I have travelled by foot thus far in my life. I had intended on running at least a few kilometers. But so early in the morning, with thousands of bodies side by side, I decided I was going to enjoy the view and participate in “21km talk” as Leah called it. With 3 other volunteers I kept a brisk pace along the route that was a constant series of hills through the mountains. For the most part we were heading downhill, you may think this is easier- talk to my shins and see what they have to say. Throughout the 3hours and 45minutes we were met by truly African buffet stops. In the states races have stops with water, maybe Gatorade, oranges, bananas. . not in South Africa. Here we were handed packets of water, which I found to be much more efficient- as much water isn’t wasted spilling over the top of the cup. But beyond bananas and oranges there were people holding plates of gummy bears, chocolates, hard candy, and my favorite- Coke!
I must thank all the people who were able to generously donate to the KLM foundation in my name! I raised just over 400 dollars, which will go a long way here for the learner who is chosen to attend Uplands College. Considering the state of the economy it’s amazing that as a group of about 60 volunteers were able to raise a considerable amount of money. . nearly 15,000 I think?
Two volunteers chose to train their bodies and ran the entire 56km ultra marathon that spanned the entirety of the Longtom Pass, from Sabie to Lydenburg. Both finished under 7 hours! Plus, many of volunteers chose to run the 21 km, so congratulations to all of them.
Now is the autumn/Easter school break and in a few days I’m going to be heading down the coast, taking in the garden route, wine country, and ultimately the Cape Town experience. I will be returning on South African election day. . so let’s all hope that the I’m not met by chaos.
Also, I have thought long and hard about my choice to teach. I created a list of why I should continue and why I should not continue to be an educator here. Why I should: I committed myself, the teachers may not respect me if I stop teaching, I may burden the teacher who will take over. Why I should not: it’s stressful and emotionally draining, I was never a teacher in the states and will not be a teacher upon returning home, I feel like I’m not teaching the learners enough, I could be using my time better if I could focus on one project instead of having teaching hanging over my head. So I talked with my principal and he agreed that next quarter I should not teach. For me and hopefully for my community this will be the best choice.
Yesterday I went to town and received quotes on the pricing of various materials (sewing machines, beads, fabrics) for the Wonderboom Women’s Club. Today I am beginning to write a VAST grant proposal that I must submit by May 1st. The VAST (Volunteer Activity Support and Training) Program gives up to $5,000 for small scale HIV/AIDS projects though PEPFAR (President’s Emergency Plan for HIV/AIDS Relief) grants. If I am able to receive this money then it is our hope to get the program started by June. I will certainly give updates about the details of the club as I develop them.
On another exciting note a nearby PCV from SA16, Nathan has generously supported my community. His community, Ga-Matabata, has a drop-in center that was funded by the Netherlands Nelson Mandela Foundation. The Foundation wanted to give his community a high-tech water filtration system, the Perfector-E. He insisted his community did not need such a product but after hearing about the water issues in my community (Remember: people fetch water from the river) he was able to convince the foundation to give the product to my community! So yesterday I went to town and picked up a water testing kit, tomorrow I will collect samples and bring them in. Once I find out the electricity connection costs and determine a way to build a secure shed we should receive the Water Purification System!! The women in the Netherlands are hoping to have the project completed by 10 May, so fingers crossed all will go as planned.
I will post photos from the Longtom and Cape Town when I return!
So on the 28th of March I participated in the Longtom Marathon! Walking 21,1km is by far the longest officially measured distance I have travelled by foot thus far in my life. I had intended on running at least a few kilometers. But so early in the morning, with thousands of bodies side by side, I decided I was going to enjoy the view and participate in “21km talk” as Leah called it. With 3 other volunteers I kept a brisk pace along the route that was a constant series of hills through the mountains. For the most part we were heading downhill, you may think this is easier- talk to my shins and see what they have to say. Throughout the 3hours and 45minutes we were met by truly African buffet stops. In the states races have stops with water, maybe Gatorade, oranges, bananas. . not in South Africa. Here we were handed packets of water, which I found to be much more efficient- as much water isn’t wasted spilling over the top of the cup. But beyond bananas and oranges there were people holding plates of gummy bears, chocolates, hard candy, and my favorite- Coke!
I must thank all the people who were able to generously donate to the KLM foundation in my name! I raised just over 400 dollars, which will go a long way here for the learner who is chosen to attend Uplands College. Considering the state of the economy it’s amazing that as a group of about 60 volunteers were able to raise a considerable amount of money. . nearly 15,000 I think?
Two volunteers chose to train their bodies and ran the entire 56km ultra marathon that spanned the entirety of the Longtom Pass, from Sabie to Lydenburg. Both finished under 7 hours! Plus, many of volunteers chose to run the 21 km, so congratulations to all of them.
Now is the autumn/Easter school break and in a few days I’m going to be heading down the coast, taking in the garden route, wine country, and ultimately the Cape Town experience. I will be returning on South African election day. . so let’s all hope that the I’m not met by chaos.
Also, I have thought long and hard about my choice to teach. I created a list of why I should continue and why I should not continue to be an educator here. Why I should: I committed myself, the teachers may not respect me if I stop teaching, I may burden the teacher who will take over. Why I should not: it’s stressful and emotionally draining, I was never a teacher in the states and will not be a teacher upon returning home, I feel like I’m not teaching the learners enough, I could be using my time better if I could focus on one project instead of having teaching hanging over my head. So I talked with my principal and he agreed that next quarter I should not teach. For me and hopefully for my community this will be the best choice.
Yesterday I went to town and received quotes on the pricing of various materials (sewing machines, beads, fabrics) for the Wonderboom Women’s Club. Today I am beginning to write a VAST grant proposal that I must submit by May 1st. The VAST (Volunteer Activity Support and Training) Program gives up to $5,000 for small scale HIV/AIDS projects though PEPFAR (President’s Emergency Plan for HIV/AIDS Relief) grants. If I am able to receive this money then it is our hope to get the program started by June. I will certainly give updates about the details of the club as I develop them.
On another exciting note a nearby PCV from SA16, Nathan has generously supported my community. His community, Ga-Matabata, has a drop-in center that was funded by the Netherlands Nelson Mandela Foundation. The Foundation wanted to give his community a high-tech water filtration system, the Perfector-E. He insisted his community did not need such a product but after hearing about the water issues in my community (Remember: people fetch water from the river) he was able to convince the foundation to give the product to my community! So yesterday I went to town and picked up a water testing kit, tomorrow I will collect samples and bring them in. Once I find out the electricity connection costs and determine a way to build a secure shed we should receive the Water Purification System!! The women in the Netherlands are hoping to have the project completed by 10 May, so fingers crossed all will go as planned.
I will post photos from the Longtom and Cape Town when I return!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Riding in cars
riding A couple of days ago I ventured to a nearby PCV’s home to help her and her community members sew shade netting onto a hydroponics project. On a normal day this would require 3 combis and nearly 30 Rand. Well I had a lucky day and caught a free ride out of my village, 5km to the main road.
From there I had another free ride from the main road to Lebowakgomo. My driver along this 20 km stretch was a well-dressed man in a BMW who works as a facilitator for a mining company. He was a wealth of information. In the area where I live there are approximately 5 platinum mines and 2 chrome mines. He described the issues involved in the business (companies promise to support the village where they mine but don’t give enough, tribal authorities require them to hire unskilled locals, those who work for the company are victims of crime and high-jacking on the way to work, etc.) and that come June a new mine will be opening very near to my home.
Upon reaching Lebo I waited in a coombi for 40 minutes- alone-. (Remember coombis do not leave the rank until they are full and I was short some 14 other passengers) So again I had to walk down the road and find another ride. My driver this time was adorable old man with a receding hairline and afro (resembling bozo, minus the blue and flip and well, you get it). So he asked me questions such as: “Where do you live?” “What do you do?” and after each response he said a sing-song “Alleluia!” hehe. Next he asked if I was a Christian. I told him I was raised Roman Catholic. With this he went into a rather confusing and serious 5 minute tangent on the sign of the cross. Apparently he thinks that when Catholics cross themselves they make the cross sideways because the longer span of the sign of the cross is between your shoulders as opposed to vertically. (Are you following? I had to have him repeat and demonstrate at least 3 times) He had a real issue with this and referred to Catholics as “upside down Christians”. Without any semblance of a smile he offered a solution to this problem. “A person should rather make the shoulder touches nearer to the neck as opposed to the shoulder.” OOOk. . .
. . . so I paid 0 Rand to get there. . .
* * * * * * * * *
Some words/issues that are essential:
- blue pens are for leaners, black pens are for educators only.
- All notebooks must be covered in plastic wrap
- The person who watches over testing learners is called an invigilator
- The answer key is called a memorandum
- White-out is called typex
- Restaurant bills are called slips
- At the end of a sentence you put a full stop, not a period
- Rulers are necessary for most notebook writing
- You cannot draw in pen
- You cannot take notes in pencil
* * * * * *
2 animal stories:
- My tiny kitten had a 10 minute face off with a preying mantis. The mantis spread it’s bottom wings, lifted its front limbs, and let out a few noises of intimidation- but it never backed down from the kitten once.
- I saw a kid (baby goat) eating grass with a pack/herd/bunch of sheep and it let out a few very distinct “baaa’s”!!
From there I had another free ride from the main road to Lebowakgomo. My driver along this 20 km stretch was a well-dressed man in a BMW who works as a facilitator for a mining company. He was a wealth of information. In the area where I live there are approximately 5 platinum mines and 2 chrome mines. He described the issues involved in the business (companies promise to support the village where they mine but don’t give enough, tribal authorities require them to hire unskilled locals, those who work for the company are victims of crime and high-jacking on the way to work, etc.) and that come June a new mine will be opening very near to my home.
Upon reaching Lebo I waited in a coombi for 40 minutes- alone-. (Remember coombis do not leave the rank until they are full and I was short some 14 other passengers) So again I had to walk down the road and find another ride. My driver this time was adorable old man with a receding hairline and afro (resembling bozo, minus the blue and flip and well, you get it). So he asked me questions such as: “Where do you live?” “What do you do?” and after each response he said a sing-song “Alleluia!” hehe. Next he asked if I was a Christian. I told him I was raised Roman Catholic. With this he went into a rather confusing and serious 5 minute tangent on the sign of the cross. Apparently he thinks that when Catholics cross themselves they make the cross sideways because the longer span of the sign of the cross is between your shoulders as opposed to vertically. (Are you following? I had to have him repeat and demonstrate at least 3 times) He had a real issue with this and referred to Catholics as “upside down Christians”. Without any semblance of a smile he offered a solution to this problem. “A person should rather make the shoulder touches nearer to the neck as opposed to the shoulder.” OOOk. . .
. . . so I paid 0 Rand to get there. . .
* * * * * * * * *
Some words/issues that are essential:
- blue pens are for leaners, black pens are for educators only.
- All notebooks must be covered in plastic wrap
- The person who watches over testing learners is called an invigilator
- The answer key is called a memorandum
- White-out is called typex
- Restaurant bills are called slips
- At the end of a sentence you put a full stop, not a period
- Rulers are necessary for most notebook writing
- You cannot draw in pen
- You cannot take notes in pencil
* * * * * *
2 animal stories:
- My tiny kitten had a 10 minute face off with a preying mantis. The mantis spread it’s bottom wings, lifted its front limbs, and let out a few noises of intimidation- but it never backed down from the kitten once.
- I saw a kid (baby goat) eating grass with a pack/herd/bunch of sheep and it let out a few very distinct “baaa’s”!!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Teaching, Ancestors, Tsotsi
Much has happened. I’ll begin with my teaching experiences. So it’s been approximately 10 weeks since I started teaching grade four natural science. It turns out that the “fourth grade slump” is a term that is not exclusively American. The transition from the core 3 subjects (literacy, numeracy, and life skills) to an extensive plethora of learning areas is stressful and difficult for learners.
So I elected to teach this year because I thought I could bring the learner-centered approach that South Africa is stressing in OBE (Outcomes Based Education). I enter the classroom with my positive attitude and perfectly crafted 5E science lesson plans (Engage, Explore, Explain, Elaborate, Evaluate). Only to be met by chaos . . . you see in an attempt to be self-sustainable our school has the teachers responsible for the possession and distribution of materials (pencils, sharpeners, rubbers, pens, rulers). Since I do not have my own classroom each time I enter a room I have to take 5-10 minutes for learners to distribute materials. This seems like a situation where the Classroom Coach (a book that gives the steps required to have effective classroom routines) would work. Well in my classroom it’s never that easy. There are learners talking and pushing each other from chairs because there aren’t enough chairs for 40 learners.
Once the materials are ready for use I struggle with classroom management. With so many kids I can’t keep an eye on them all. Some incidents that have occurred include: breaking a chair, tying a learners shoes to a chair, sleeping, making cats noises. . . EISH! I want to pull my hair out most days. I always say that the learners don’t respect me because they know that I won’t beat them like the other teachers. Last week I had a PC friend, Haley, come and observe me. Her feedback was so meaningful. She brought to my attention that yes, the other teachers beat, but at least they have a discipline plan. I, on the other hand, randomly try different techniques. So far: placing a learner outside the room (which is illegal I found out), making the learner sit in the front, having them stay after class, etc. My plan is that next quarter I will implement a discipline plan with the support of the headmaster. It will include consistent punishment and praise and hopefully lessen the stress I experience in the classroom. Currently this stress makes me want to pull my hair, scream, cry, and generally quit teaching. It’s been very emotionally burdening.
* * * * * * * *
Next topic: Ancestors.
Last week all of SA18 travelled to Blyde River Canyon for our LST (life skills training. . PC likes acronyms). Each of us brought a counterpart from the community or school so we could learn the steps required to begin a secondary project and how to write grants. Secondary projects vary but include: girls/boys clubs, gardens, small business development, computer classes, library projects, etc. I chose to bring Reneilwe Maputha. She is a primary teacher at Mannyetha Primary, also a head of department, mother of 2, Eco-Schools Coordinator, and generally optimistic woman who I enjoy spending time with.
If you remember I wrote about her earlier: see blog “Traditional Medicine.” Based on this cleansing month that she had in December she is still left with a few final ceremonies to free herself of the ancestral curse. Seeing as we were at a beautiful resort with views of the 3 rondevals there was much nature to entice her spirit. One day after our sessions she asked me to join her and Jerrina (PC Kelly’s counterpart) on a walk to the waterfall where she needed to collect holy water. So we walk behind the conference center, over a small bridge, and see a mini waterfall on the other side of a fence. She has her 2 liter bottle ready for collection but clearly she and J were going to have difficulty hoping the fence.
So I offer. She gives me a look. “What?” I say. She says, “Well last night you and Andrew (my partner for 6 months). . .” I say “We what?” She says “You know, did the naughty thing.” Me: “We what?” Her: “You know the silly silly.” Me: “You mean we had sex, so you don’t want me to touch your holy water because you think I sinned?!” Her: “No.” Me: “You think I sinned. . . “
Wow. That was a judgment; one which left me speechless. So I said fine, ok. They weren’t going to be able to hop that fence so I took them around the waterfall and over a different bridge. They didn’t think the stairs were going to go anywhere. I decided to climb solo and wave my scarf when I reached the top. Pleased with my confidence and persistence they followed up and in their dresses climbed over massive mossy and slippery boulders all the way to the waterfall.
Once there Rene took off her shoes and began filling the water bottle in the trickle of the waterfall. She was shocked at the lack of water since after breakfast it was apparently gushing. (I found that hard to believe since there hasn’t been any rain. . ) In any case after five minutes she decided to stand on a boulder while filling up. To cap off the holy water ceremony she stood in the waterfall: completely clothed in the icy waterfall. It was a beautiful sight! You must check out the photos on Picasa.
Later I asked if there are any other ceremonies she must complete. She needs to slaughter a cow by herself and then take the hide to the “East” where she will dig up her ancestor’s bones, talk to them, and then rebury them wrapped in the hide.
Why the water? To drink when she is ill. Now the cruel corker for this story . . . the waterfall was gushing earlier because it is man made . . . of all the natural waterfalls surrounding the facility she chose an artificial one.
* * * * * * * *
Final Topic: Tsotsis
I returned home from LST on Monday afternoon. Upon arriving at Mannyetha the following morning I was told I couldn’t enter in my usual gate. Apparently the school had been robbed Monday night.
The story is as follows: apparently there was a car driving around the village beginning at about 11pm. Come 1 or 2am they cut a hole in the outer fence, then the inner fence. From this point they crept around the school block and used a lock cutter to break in the thick metal security fence. From here they lured, or somehow trapped the night watchman. They bound his arms and legs to a chair and for the next hour or so they vandalized the school. The 2 computer labs were broken into (the burglar doors locks cut and the wooden door locks broken too) and only the nice HP hard drives were stolen. From there they broke into the administrative block where they stole the TV, VCR, 9 computer projectors (valued at R90,000), 12 classroom heaters, all the teaspoons and knives?, the kettle?, and the new flat screen computer/hard drive. They also broke the jojo (massive water tower) for no good reason. By the time the old security man freed himself and ran screaming through the village the men had long left.
The criminals certainly knew where to find the goods. They did not break into the most logical room, the headmasters. Instead they only entered the assistant headmaster’s room where the items were located. Also they didn’t take any of the cords for the projectors or computers. Clearly they have no idea how to use such things. . . they will likely be traded for a single case of beer.
So on Tuesday the police came and took fingerprints and photos of muddy footprints (caused by the jojo spilling). The headmaster called a community meeting. This is how it was learned the people had been around since earlier in the night. Other than that there wasn’t/hasn’t been any new information learned. But upon the end of the school day I returned home and heard a loud ringing. It turns out that Wonderboom has an informal messaging system! Someone rings a large old metal circle by the water pump and people gather! Apparently there was a concern that maybe these people just stashed/disposed of the items in the bush?!! (come on, they go through all this work to leave the items?!) In any case the community felt like they should do their part, which I commend. So hundreds of people made their way out into the bush and travelled from the small mountain to the large one and back to the main road. After 2 hours of walking. . no luck. But I did notice people came back with heads full of sticks for fires. Plus along the entire route people held branches of trees that are full of semi-sweet berries. So it was highly enjoyable for me, even if it turned out to be. . fruitless. HA
I’m saddened by this theft. Unfortunately thieves rob schools everyday. They take computers usually the day they are delivered. One time the thieves broke in a night too early. It seems like it’s always inside jobs. Last night my friend Kelly’s school was broke into and her computers stolen. There isn’t a push to catch these tsotsis. So they continue stealing expensive products that they likely do not know how to operate and then trade them for measly beer. Plus the cops are corrupt here too. . How to we change this cycle? How can we improve the education system when every new tool is promptly stolen? How do we not get frustrated?
So I elected to teach this year because I thought I could bring the learner-centered approach that South Africa is stressing in OBE (Outcomes Based Education). I enter the classroom with my positive attitude and perfectly crafted 5E science lesson plans (Engage, Explore, Explain, Elaborate, Evaluate). Only to be met by chaos . . . you see in an attempt to be self-sustainable our school has the teachers responsible for the possession and distribution of materials (pencils, sharpeners, rubbers, pens, rulers). Since I do not have my own classroom each time I enter a room I have to take 5-10 minutes for learners to distribute materials. This seems like a situation where the Classroom Coach (a book that gives the steps required to have effective classroom routines) would work. Well in my classroom it’s never that easy. There are learners talking and pushing each other from chairs because there aren’t enough chairs for 40 learners.
Once the materials are ready for use I struggle with classroom management. With so many kids I can’t keep an eye on them all. Some incidents that have occurred include: breaking a chair, tying a learners shoes to a chair, sleeping, making cats noises. . . EISH! I want to pull my hair out most days. I always say that the learners don’t respect me because they know that I won’t beat them like the other teachers. Last week I had a PC friend, Haley, come and observe me. Her feedback was so meaningful. She brought to my attention that yes, the other teachers beat, but at least they have a discipline plan. I, on the other hand, randomly try different techniques. So far: placing a learner outside the room (which is illegal I found out), making the learner sit in the front, having them stay after class, etc. My plan is that next quarter I will implement a discipline plan with the support of the headmaster. It will include consistent punishment and praise and hopefully lessen the stress I experience in the classroom. Currently this stress makes me want to pull my hair, scream, cry, and generally quit teaching. It’s been very emotionally burdening.
* * * * * * * *
Next topic: Ancestors.
Last week all of SA18 travelled to Blyde River Canyon for our LST (life skills training. . PC likes acronyms). Each of us brought a counterpart from the community or school so we could learn the steps required to begin a secondary project and how to write grants. Secondary projects vary but include: girls/boys clubs, gardens, small business development, computer classes, library projects, etc. I chose to bring Reneilwe Maputha. She is a primary teacher at Mannyetha Primary, also a head of department, mother of 2, Eco-Schools Coordinator, and generally optimistic woman who I enjoy spending time with.
If you remember I wrote about her earlier: see blog “Traditional Medicine.” Based on this cleansing month that she had in December she is still left with a few final ceremonies to free herself of the ancestral curse. Seeing as we were at a beautiful resort with views of the 3 rondevals there was much nature to entice her spirit. One day after our sessions she asked me to join her and Jerrina (PC Kelly’s counterpart) on a walk to the waterfall where she needed to collect holy water. So we walk behind the conference center, over a small bridge, and see a mini waterfall on the other side of a fence. She has her 2 liter bottle ready for collection but clearly she and J were going to have difficulty hoping the fence.
So I offer. She gives me a look. “What?” I say. She says, “Well last night you and Andrew (my partner for 6 months). . .” I say “We what?” She says “You know, did the naughty thing.” Me: “We what?” Her: “You know the silly silly.” Me: “You mean we had sex, so you don’t want me to touch your holy water because you think I sinned?!” Her: “No.” Me: “You think I sinned. . . “
Wow. That was a judgment; one which left me speechless. So I said fine, ok. They weren’t going to be able to hop that fence so I took them around the waterfall and over a different bridge. They didn’t think the stairs were going to go anywhere. I decided to climb solo and wave my scarf when I reached the top. Pleased with my confidence and persistence they followed up and in their dresses climbed over massive mossy and slippery boulders all the way to the waterfall.
Once there Rene took off her shoes and began filling the water bottle in the trickle of the waterfall. She was shocked at the lack of water since after breakfast it was apparently gushing. (I found that hard to believe since there hasn’t been any rain. . ) In any case after five minutes she decided to stand on a boulder while filling up. To cap off the holy water ceremony she stood in the waterfall: completely clothed in the icy waterfall. It was a beautiful sight! You must check out the photos on Picasa.
Later I asked if there are any other ceremonies she must complete. She needs to slaughter a cow by herself and then take the hide to the “East” where she will dig up her ancestor’s bones, talk to them, and then rebury them wrapped in the hide.
Why the water? To drink when she is ill. Now the cruel corker for this story . . . the waterfall was gushing earlier because it is man made . . . of all the natural waterfalls surrounding the facility she chose an artificial one.
* * * * * * * *
Final Topic: Tsotsis
I returned home from LST on Monday afternoon. Upon arriving at Mannyetha the following morning I was told I couldn’t enter in my usual gate. Apparently the school had been robbed Monday night.
The story is as follows: apparently there was a car driving around the village beginning at about 11pm. Come 1 or 2am they cut a hole in the outer fence, then the inner fence. From this point they crept around the school block and used a lock cutter to break in the thick metal security fence. From here they lured, or somehow trapped the night watchman. They bound his arms and legs to a chair and for the next hour or so they vandalized the school. The 2 computer labs were broken into (the burglar doors locks cut and the wooden door locks broken too) and only the nice HP hard drives were stolen. From there they broke into the administrative block where they stole the TV, VCR, 9 computer projectors (valued at R90,000), 12 classroom heaters, all the teaspoons and knives?, the kettle?, and the new flat screen computer/hard drive. They also broke the jojo (massive water tower) for no good reason. By the time the old security man freed himself and ran screaming through the village the men had long left.
The criminals certainly knew where to find the goods. They did not break into the most logical room, the headmasters. Instead they only entered the assistant headmaster’s room where the items were located. Also they didn’t take any of the cords for the projectors or computers. Clearly they have no idea how to use such things. . . they will likely be traded for a single case of beer.
So on Tuesday the police came and took fingerprints and photos of muddy footprints (caused by the jojo spilling). The headmaster called a community meeting. This is how it was learned the people had been around since earlier in the night. Other than that there wasn’t/hasn’t been any new information learned. But upon the end of the school day I returned home and heard a loud ringing. It turns out that Wonderboom has an informal messaging system! Someone rings a large old metal circle by the water pump and people gather! Apparently there was a concern that maybe these people just stashed/disposed of the items in the bush?!! (come on, they go through all this work to leave the items?!) In any case the community felt like they should do their part, which I commend. So hundreds of people made their way out into the bush and travelled from the small mountain to the large one and back to the main road. After 2 hours of walking. . no luck. But I did notice people came back with heads full of sticks for fires. Plus along the entire route people held branches of trees that are full of semi-sweet berries. So it was highly enjoyable for me, even if it turned out to be. . fruitless. HA
I’m saddened by this theft. Unfortunately thieves rob schools everyday. They take computers usually the day they are delivered. One time the thieves broke in a night too early. It seems like it’s always inside jobs. Last night my friend Kelly’s school was broke into and her computers stolen. There isn’t a push to catch these tsotsis. So they continue stealing expensive products that they likely do not know how to operate and then trade them for measly beer. Plus the cops are corrupt here too. . How to we change this cycle? How can we improve the education system when every new tool is promptly stolen? How do we not get frustrated?
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