My Traitor's Heart

I just finished an amazing book about South Africa called My Traitor’s Heart by Rian Malan. Malan is a seventh generation white Afrikaans speaking South African whose ancestors were part of establishing apartheid. His book is about his own struggle with his identity, privilege, and the issues of South Africa – past and present. The book was written before the end of apartheid – in 1990 – but it is telling even of today concerning the struggles – both internal and external. I won’t summarize the book, but I will suggest you to read it if possible. I will however tell you why it is impacting my experience today.

It is an interesting time to be here. I regret that I haven’t shared more about the popular events of today – the crisis in Zimbabwe, the xenophobia attacks in the townships, the political struggles and food shortages. It isn’t that I haven’t been paying attention, nor that I don’t care. It is simply hard to express – difficult to articulate in a way that is fair and complete. I feel so ill-equipped to do Africa justice – to talk about the struggles and the successes. Because of it I am hesitant to speak of the struggles, but I am sure that isn’t fair either.

Malan’s book is depressing in one sense. It presents a difficult view of South Africa – the history, the struggles, and the solutions. However, it also speaks of the one thing that persists in my impression of this country and its people – its/their tenacity. It is not easy here. Even for the privileged. I believe that there is a constant search for identity in this country that is both exhilarating and confusing at the same time. To be South African means something dynamic and special. It means that one has a violent history of recent oppression and tyranny that was overcome through a people’s movement. It means living under one of the world’s best, most inclusive constitutions to be enforced by new leaders – often idealistic and a bit inexperienced. It means living with the dichotomy of first world and third world privileges and problems separated by – in some cases – only a river or a set of railroad tracks. It means struggling for a world identity – being proud of the successes of integrating socialist tendencies from the current ruling party - the African National Congress - and its past leaders such as Mandela, but also being ashamed of the little struggles involved in assuming power witnessed by the world – the electricity shortage and violence eruption. It means more things that I could possibly put on this page and I am overcome.

Rotarians keep asking me my impressions. They are businessmen and women struggling with the day to day aspects of living, sending their children to schools, and attempting to participate in as many solutions as possible – struggling with the set backs and rejoicing with the successes. I can see the struggle and I am nervous to answer their questions – I have impressions, but are any of them simple enough to express in a couple sentences? I often talk of tenacity and the virtuous spirit I see around me at Entembeni and with those who volunteer to help the communities – aiding the government and the transition started 14 years ago but continuing today. I don’t want to ignore the struggles – I know they exist, but I don’t offer a quick solution. I don’t think it is my task here of my privilege as an outsider. All I can do is to hold on to my litany and continue to say is that I am impressed with the graciousness of spirit here and the individuals who are committing to changing the ills here, not willing to run away despite the confusion and problems. I am impressed South Africa – not because you are perfect – without violence, problems, or confusion – but because you try and keep trying.

So I promised to post more and now I am exercising that promise.

This week has been great! I finished my last exam and now only a paper stands in my way of finishing this semester! In my recovery from exams, I have gone to one of my favorite places in Grahamstown yesterday and today - an drop in center for seniors in the township. I love it! Besides the continuous fact that it is nice to get off campus, every time I go there I laugh, learn new things, and feel like I am in community again. It is great!

This week when Jeremy and I arrived at Entembeni we were greeted with Paper Mache. The seniors were making paper mache trays to use in the dining hall. I didn’t know that paper mache could be used for more than middle school art projects, but I was mistaken. It can be rather useful - as I learned from a volunteer from the UK leading the project. You can make all sorts of useful things – dishes, decorations, statues and even chairs and tables! I was amazed. The residents seem to like the activity and it kept us busy both yesterday and today.

On Tuesday, I also got to meet a teenager named Molly. She is the daughter of a woman who does some beading for me named Nomxolo. They are both very kind and help me with my Xhosa – which is rather slow in coming. I was dangerously close to getting a Xhosa nickname before I was even given a name due to my lack of Xhosa skills. I know the standard greetings and the first work that I learned besides “hello…how are you.., thank you” was “you are welcome” – “wamekelekile”) I said it when the seniors would thank me for bring to them their food and some of them started calling me that. I was saved today, however, when I was given a Xhosa name today! I am hoping that it catches on it is “Nomhle.” The “hl” sound is made in the back of your mouth and is a bit difficult to get, but I think that I have it.

It is nice to have a name, but even better is nice to have a place. I just hope that I can learn their names quickly as well.

Dancing and Exercising

My time of impromptu reflecting comes after a week of Rotary Presentations. As many of you know I am here on a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship. Although it is for academic study, it is awarded to people committed to doing service; thus, service projects are community involvement are encouraged. Although my studies have taken a majority of my time here thus far, I have gotten out into the townships and worked with a couple of organizations: Amasango – a school for street children trying to be mainstreamed into public schools and Entembeni – a drop in centre for elderly people for food and fellowship. To the latter I have started going more and each time I am surprised by an experience of joy and I learn a few more things about the Xhosa language and culture. I started going with another American who is here on exchange for his undergraduate degree named Jeremy from Boston. Young and energetic, I think Jeremy’s example of how he has embraced his abroad experience has challenged me to get out more, experience more, and embrace the culture more. He is also super gracious and encourages me to come along whenever I can all the while teaching me the Xhosa words he has become so accustomed to using. I knew of the centre because a couple months ago a group of us visited and had lunch with the members. The lunch was good and very filling, but we didn’t get a lot of time to fellowship with the people, get to know their names or any of their live stories. Thus, I didn’t know the treat I was in for coming back. The first week we danced, the second I learned a new card game, the third we gardened and just yesterday I led exercises to 80’s pop tunes making up the moves as I went along. We even shared music as I taught them the Hokey Pokey and they taught me some cultural music and dance. Throughout the weeks we have also taken three treks out into the township area looking for beads and craft projects. During all of this I have had the opportunity to speak a little with those who understand English and learn a few words like “Molo Unjani” (Hello How Are You?) and “Enkosi” (Thank You). I even learned how to say your welcome (“wamekelekile”) which I said so often as I was serving lunch to the elders that they started teasing me and calling me “wamekelekile.” Although my language learning is going slow, the experience has taught me other things about South Africa and the townships. At one of our Rotary Presentations last week one of the members asked me the lesson I learned the most. From my experiences in Entembeni I thought of the tenacity of the people – despite difficulties, struggles, riots and frustrations experienced by the people – especially those in the townships – they keep going, keep dancing, and keep teaching… In the months to come I look forward to putting away the books and becoming their student – learning more Xhosa and sharing more. Until then…

Pardon my Silence

Pardon My Silence…
I have been silent, because there hasn’t been much to say. A lot has happened here, but with the busy-ness of school and tasks, I haven’t stopped to think, or pray, or be thankful – and I thought that if I spoke I feared all that I would say would be about the busyness – the tasks, the day to day events, the unevaluated life happenings that at face value could be expressed in one manner, but actually through deeper reflection often mean something different. The deeper side of my wants to argue that I didn’t want to share shallow things or the simple reflections; the more honest side knows that I simply didn’t take the time to slow down at all – and simple isn’t bad.

For my silence I am sorry. This is an apology I make to you and to myself. I keep thinking that I will be more prolific when my classes are finished and exams have passed, but I realized today that this is just another excuse not to stop, take a deep breath, and think about the real reason I am here – to learn not just facts, figures and my least favourite – philosophy – but to learn about people, about myself and the perpetual lesson on how to love. I know this takes time, and because I am in the rut of thinking that time is too precious to waste, I forget to invest it in the reflections that although not instantly gratifying, would give me a dividend far surpassing good grades, additional head knowledge and good conversational points.
Now the time has come, ironically in the midst of studying for my final exams, that I fear I can’t procrastinate reflecting or sharing anymore. I will start with a simple story, and perhaps more will come as the week(s) progress. Forgive me my rustiness in sharing and writing, I am sure it will get better with time.