World AIDS Day

World AIDS Day is actually December 1st, which I think is Monday, but I'm not going to be around then. Fortunately, my village celebrated it today instead, so I got to go to an HIV Awareness event at our local clinic. It went as all South African events of this sort went: about ten people gave "short" speeches of anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, with a keynote address at the end just about the time everyone has fallen asleep. I think this happens because it's important to make sure that everyone who is important to the community gets his or her turn at the podium, but it really is not fun for the audience. Between each speaker there's some entertainment to break up the monotony, usually traditional dancing and maybe some HIV-related dramas. This particular campaign actually had some great breathers, mainly because they recruited a bunch of old women to sing traditional Tsonga dances and then, just when you think you're going to die of dehydration mixed with boredom, they played soccer! None of them really knew how to, but they also knew that that was the funny part, so they hammed it up.

After the soccer thing, I had been there about two hours (not counting the fact that it started an hour late), and I really was pretty badly dehydrated so I thought that maybe I could sneak out and go home. My host mom was organizing the event, but I felt that she would forgive me. However, on my way to freedom, I was ambushed and kidnapped by another of the women organizing the event, who works at the clinic, and forced to stay for the rest. However, we did take a break to go inside to a room with a fan and I found a tap at which I got some water, so death was delayed a few hours. This woman also made me pose in pictures with her after the event, which is awkward--it always makes me feel like one of those actors at Disneyland whose sole job is to wander around and pose as Cinderella or Mickey Mouse in photos. Including eating, the whole thing took a little over four hours.

The event was reasonably well attended by older members of the community, but there were very few youth there, other than the kids recruited to put on the HIV/AIDS dramas. It's good that the community has this sort of event, and that the chief and other prominent people attend it, but it's unfortunate that so few of the people who could benefit most from it attend.

There was of course much food afterwards, and on our way out Masingita and I grabbed a few extra cans of cold drink. She's decided that we should start bribing the girls not to cry. I guess if I'm seen as the bearer of cold drink, it will make me less scary to them. I'm not sure how well it worked. The past few weeks, Xihluki and Simeko have switched m.o.'s: now Xihluki is cautiously excited to see me, and Simeko bursts into hysterical tears. Maybe it's just a phase. Anyway, they got cold drink, but it may take another dosage before we see any effects.

Tomorrow I'm off to LST in Durban. After that, GTOT (General Training of Trainers) in Marapyane. After that, vacation. Don't expect too much in the way of updates until January. Happy Holidays, everyone!

Turkey Day Without Turkey

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I had a lovely Thanksgiving dinner this afternoon with some volunteers in the area, though strangely enough, the grocery stores were not overflowing with turkey and we had to settle for chicken instead. Squash was, however, abundant. There was also no football. No turkey, no football, very little cooking, no leftovers, and I didn't have to fly anywhere. In other words: Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.

They did manage to provide a token jar, baby-food sized, of cranberry sauce. Since cranberry sauce is, we decided, to Thanksgiving as fruitcake is to Christmas, this was about the right portion size.

I hope that everyone is enjoying the holiday.

A Few Short Entries

Goat Update

Sunday, I was sitting outside when I noticed a couple of animals in
our yard out of the corner of my eye, wagging their tails and
scratching themselves. I thought, "When did we get dogs?" Then I
looked closer and realized they were the goats.

Spring Is Here

And the world is green. It has been slowly becoming greener for the
past few weeks, but I didn't really notice this gradual increase until
this weekend, when I came back from a couple nights out of town.
Suddenly the once brownish landscape was verdant and beautiful, the
mountains in the distance cloaked in mist during rainy mornings.

The flip side of this is that all of the pretty foliage is covering
all of my mental landmarks. Reminiscent of my anxiety about getting
lost when I first moved here, my first few taxi rides since the
greenness began in earnest have all featured me looking anxiously out
the window for the latter half of the journey, looking for the
architectural cues that will tell me that I live nearby and should get
off the taxi.

Mail Moratorium

In early December, I will be traveling to some trainings for Peace
Corps. After that, my NGO, through which I receive my mail, will be
closed from mid-December to mid-January for the holiday break. I will
spend part of that time traveling. Since mail that languishes in the
post office for too long tends to disappear, it's probably a good idea
not to send me anything. Thanks!

Diversity Blog

Hey everyone. Diversity Committee started a blog about, well, diversity in Peace Corps South Africa. Check it out. We're still getting it started, but there's the introduction and a link to AJ's blog there now.

http://meltingpotintherainbownation.blogspot.com

If you're a PCV reading this, consider writing something. Please? The more the merrier.

Books About South Africa

I know that my blog makes for some fascinating reading, but, should you need something to fill the lonely days between posts, here is the rundown of a few books I’ve read about South Africa. Most have apartheid as a major theme; even though apartheid is over, its effects still linger, and its shadow over modern South African history still long and dark enough to make understanding apartheid important to understanding where South Africa is now, and where it will go from here.

A History of South Africa, by Leonard Thompson: This book covers the length and breadth of recorded South African history, from before colonization by Europeans to post-apartheid. And yet it’s only 300 pages! As such, it can be a little confusing, packed with unelaborated-upon references to events and people that make a lot more sense if you’re already acquainted with South African history.

Kaffir Boy, by Mark Mathabane: Mathabane is a journalist who emigrated to America to attend college and wrote this book, about his childhood experiences, while the apartheid regime still reigned. He lived in Alexandra, a black township that is part of Jo’burg, and chronicles the atrocities that he, his family, and his neighbors were subjected to by the ruling white minority and how he eventually escaped it.

My Traitor’s Heat, by Rian Malan: An incredible soul-searching account of apartheid from a liberal Afrikaner’s perspective, this could be read almost as a companion piece to Kaffir Boy. Malan is also a journalist who emigrates to America, though he returns to South Africa to write this book; it explores not only the atrocities of apartheid, but also the hypocrisy of white liberals, the complexities of various contemporary political movements in South Africa, and his own life and family history. This book, too, was written before the end of apartheid.

Cry, The Beloved Country, by Alan Paton: Maybe the classic novel of apartheid South Africa. It’s about a black man who travels from the country into the city looking for a family remember and then returning—it’s not the plot which is important, though certainly each event is telling, but instead the description of life, hardship, and love, revealed in dozens of narrative moments, as it exists for the characters.

Long Walk to Freedom, by Nelson Mandela: His autobiography, much of which was written while he was imprisoned at Robben Island. A moving portrait that also illuminates a lot of what was going on behind the scenes during the growth of the ANC and why apartheid fell when it did. A very enjoyable read.

Rain

Winter is over, spring is here. Since spring started out with deathly hot days that I had hoped wouldn't come around until high summer, I was seriously considering spending the entire October-March season lying in a cool bucket bath eating custard and fruit, scratching my mosquito bites. Fortunately, the rain has come; selfishly, I am most excited about this because it means that it is cool and overcast most days--the rain comes mainly at night, keeping the mosquitos away.

The rain has other effects. It means that drought is less likely (the rain came late this year), so no more five day stretches without water like two weeks ago! And our mango trees have a chance to flourish.

Less expected effects include the fact that the goats seek shelter in our pit toilet. I don't blame them, since their kraal (paddock) isn't roofed and the pit toilet is very nice and watertight (cement rather than corrugated tin), but it definitely took me aback when I went to use the bathroom a couple of days ago and had to chase the goats out first. Now I'm used to it. Fortunately, the toilet seats are covered so that wandering goats and chickens don't fall in (it's a 10 foot drop, any goat that goes down isn't coming back up).

Also less expected, though eminently predictable, is the amount of mud I have managed to track in EVEN THOUGH I TAKE OFF MY SHOES AT THE DOOR. I don't know where the mud comes from. Maybe the bottom of the laundry bucket? I'm daunted by the prospect of cleaning it. However, it's a small price to pay for not coming home dehydrated every day.

Election Anecdote

This didn't happen to me, it happened to another volunteer yesterday, but it's funny, and I think it says a lot about how South Africa's racial history impacts its perception of the rest of the world.

South African: Ah, I'm sorry about your election.
(white) PCV: Why are you sorry?
South African: Well, you lost.
PCV: No no, we won.
South African: !

In a country where much voting and party-building happens on primarily racial lines, I suppose it's not surprising that many South Africans assume that racial struggles are taking place in the same manner in America; for many, it's inconceivable that so many white people would vote for a black man. Needless to say, most South Africans adore Obama, and for them, his victory isn't a victory against Bush or for Hope (or whatever you think the election was about), but a victory for blacks worldwide of the same character as the end of apartheid.

(Of course, if Obama were South African instead of American, he wouldn't be considered black but colored.)

I am still alive, I swear

More computer issues, so I'm still playing catch up.  I'll post when I can, sorry about the long gaps.  In the meantime...

 

A few weeks ago, I had a meeting with representatives from several recently established drop-in centres, including some from the DIC I visited a few months ago.  The meeting was to talk about whether they would be interested in a training programme if Khanimamba offered one; the drop-in centres we are targeting are under-funded, staffed by volunteers who usually have little experience, and generally held together with both hands, so we are hoping that the sort of training we have offered to crèches will now be helpful to drop-in centres.

 

My supervisor warned me the week before the meeting that I shouldn't expect too many people to show up for the first meeting, and that anyone who does show up may very well be several hours late.  Since this is a fairly common experience for everyone who tries to start something new in South Africa, I considered myself forewarned and not too expectant about attendance of the first meeting.  Much to my surprise, even though I had come into the office well before the meeting to get some things ready, some attendees had beat me there, and most of the people who ended up attending were there half an hour before we were scheduled to start.  We had nearly twenty people from eight different drop-in centres, and no one showed up more than fifteen minutes after our starting time (we actually started on time, or maybe five minutes late but that's on time even in America).  Twenty is a great number to start with since it's nearly the maximum number we would ideally like to have in a training class.

 

The meeting was, on the whole, productive.  Probably the best thing that happened was that we got a lot of data about the centres that showed up—things like when they were founded, how many employees they have, if they're registered with the government, receiving funding, etc. that we can put in our files, plus updated contact information for them.  We tried to get them to do a couple of "exercises" in small groups that took a lot longer than they should have and didn't really get people thinking creatively, but since most of the small group work I have done with South Africans was like pulling teeth I wasn't too surprised. 

 

My supervisor wanted me to run the meeting since the trainer I would be working with on this programme wasn't here (she was at a family funeral) and they needed to get used to working with me, despite the fact that many of the trainers don't speak English very well and my Xitsonga is not good enough to sustain what ended up being a three or four hour meeting.  I gave it a shot, but eventually it became clear that I wasn't explaining the idea of having a training programme very well and my supervisor thankfully jumped in.  She did a great job of explaining what we had in mind and it seemed as though most people were interested.  Hopefully things will continue to come together and we will start actually offering the trainings in the New Year.