New Family! Home stay/ Durban

(Kara is the student who lives next door, my little brother S'Bahle is the little boy in front with the red stripes, and the rest are ever present neighbor kids)

Monday

Durban Drop off

We were released into the city. Paired with one partner, we were given a location in the city, given 10 ran we were to take public transportation find our location. I was a wonderful way to be immersed into Durban public transportation. For the world cup the government instated the “people mover bus system”. The same company they use in anchorage, it runs two loops in down town Durban, kind of staying in the safer tourist part of town, very safe with security workers at every stop. For other modes of transportation mini bus taxi’s (safe during the day, all the locals use these) and metered taxis ( kind of like a cab in the city, a lot more expensive, but safer at night) Our mission was to talk to people, mingle with durbanites, ask for directions and ask how they are doing, ask about the strike.

Some of the characters Hillary and I met on our adventures in Durban

- Niko the South African game farmer, a business man and farmer in rural Zulu land who was waiting for his visa in Durban, and after coffee we were all invited to his game farm for a safari. Has visited Palmer, standing invitation to pitch a tent in our yard if he ever returns to Alaska. White. Wonderful perspective on life before apartheid was lifted, and state of government. Frustrated with the government for shelling out billions of ran for world cup, 46 million ran/ year to maintain one stadium. No source to maintain, money could be spend else where

- The Indian grandma who went to the public hospital only to be told she could not be seen by a doctor because of the strike. She was able to get her medicine refilled. Told bus driver to deliver us safely to Victoria Market. Frustrated with strike

- The people mover safety worker at the bus stop, discussed when Africans go to the hospital and when the treat themselves. Example he only goes to the doctor if he is broken, then he pointed to his arm which he broke a few years ago. He said he would not go if he had the flu. He told us how he would make a herb edema.

- The mama who walked us to the market, and bartered a price for fruit

- There were many more we encountered on the bus, in the stores, and on the street, all had fascinating stories, everyone was so helpful and kind. Sawubana is a great convo starter

Tuesday

SIT House

First official day of zulu lessons

Overwhelmed, my brain is having a hard time remembering anything. Jaqui is our white Zulu teacher, then we have three zulu native speaking tutors. Mne, Fanele, and Thalo

Gigantic mall (we go once a week, very westernized and modern. Pick and Pay grocery store. Check out hugely inefficient. Entire line had to stop and manager would be called if credit card was used. 5-10 cashiers standing around with large lines waiting for approval. Dad would have hated this. Most expensive thing I will probably buy in South Africa Venus razor! R89 ridiculous

Lots of orientation

SIT house good neighborhood, pool, a short walk from some fast food/ little mart for phone and internet time

Wonderful house keeper/ counselor Sandra! Lovely Indian woman

Wednesday – Thursday

HOME STAYS

I have been adopted for the next five weeks! I have a new mama and two brothers! S’fiso is the 20 year old son of Ms Zondi. He has not been home much but, he has been very kind and courteous every time I have talked to him, and according to the other mamas in the neighborhood he is a good boy. S’Bahle is my little buddy, he is 5 and because of the strike the schools are closed. Every woman who has had a child is referred to as “Mama” a general term of respect and endearment. This is also really nice because it is hard to remember so many new faces and zulu names. The whole neighborhood is knows every one, and is most likely related. The house next doors to is my mama’s twin sisters house, she is hosting a girl from the program Kara. Once it gets dark I am allowed to study with her.

Weekend with my homestay!

Time. It is so much slower in my home stay. At the SIT house everything is planed down to the minute. We have class from 8- 4 every day with an hour for lunch, but once we come home everything slows down. Nothing is planned, and people take the time to enjoy everything. People are content and happy with whatever they have. At four we are dropped off and the sun becomes our watch. We get off the vans from the SIT house and we are flocked by the neighborhood children. We play, and we play hard until dark, then we must go home to our mamas. Home to our mamas, their houses, and its most treasured possessions the TV.

TV is a gigantic part of South African life style. The TV is the most lavish part of the house, always on drawing attention. I have watched more TV in the short time I have been here than all this past summer and school year. The TV shows provide a topic for conversation, heated discussions as well as meaningless chatter. It is a link to the outside world, conduit for political happenings, a vessel for laughter. Every one watches the local sophi Generation! I am learning so much cultural knowledge from this one show its amazing. The character in the show switch back in forth between 4 or 5 different languages, but there are always subtitles, and of course my mama is always there to translate the cultural differences.

The food is home cooked good and very plentiful! Culturally a good host takes pride in providing a good meal for their guest; this means my mama is trying to send me home with a South African belly so she can brag to the neighbors.

Car Baby

8.22.2010


Just as a baby is lulled to sleep in their mothers arms so am I, even thousands of miles away from home, put me in a car for any period of time and I will drift to sleep. Here I am known as the baby, I fall asleep at the drop of the hat and I’m the youngest. Today we were on the move, leaving Jo-burge and traveling to our new city home of Durban. They are finishing random construction at SIT so we are playing the tourist roll for a few more days before we go to our home stays. We are at the happy hippo hostile, which is the lap of luxury, but only about 130 ran a night about $18. We have a private shower in our room, gigantic common area(s) notice the plural, full kitchen, and breakfast, roof bar/ pool table/ foosball, and breakfast in the morning. The rooms are names by tribes, the zulu, xhosa, nguni, nbevele, sangoma, and other ones I can’t see at the moment. The décor is modern/ African, bright colors and some traditional drawings and art. The hostel is 5 min walk from the beach, we all walked down to the beach and frolicked in the Indian Ocean, and it was warm by Alaska standers. We had to walk through a “water world esk” Americanized theme park with shops and food. Everyone laughs all the time and will take the opportunity to laugh at you. A white South African couple took a group picture of us, and in doing so played a practical joke. They told some of us to kneel down to take the group picture, but it was on the ocean, so the next wave that came defiantly hit us.

Random bits. Three o’clock insomnia with Sally D. Recorded books off the web with the help from Mrs. Husbey’s library card. Packing in a one entrance back pack was not the smarts decision, yet climbing 3 flights of stairs in our hostile a definite plus. Pies are good, like a English pasty and they are sold everywhere. Need some seriouse fruit and vegi soon. Africans don’t drink nearly as much water as “us Americans do.” We get teased and say we drink water like fish, and the water glasses are always tinny, like a rather large shot glass.

The colors. The landscape is rather a drab brown, everything fits into the same schema, yet it is still beautiful. Everything else is so bold. South African flag colors all over, all the buildings, clothing, and food is so bright and vibrant.

First zulu lesson before leaving jo-burg, greetings taught by tula and steu. They are so funny and patient. They are so much more than drivers.

Tourist Hypocrisy

First Day Full Day!




I am in a fighting in a losing battle against jet lag; I went to bed at midnight and was wide awake at 4:30! South African breakfasts are big and amazing. Bacon, eggs, hash brown, toast, fruit, cereal, juice, and lots of COFFEE! After a horrible name game involving foods with the same letter as your name ( try to figure out multiple foods that start with K, it’s harder than you would think under pressure.)

We all piled into our 13 passenger vans with Tula, Zed, and Steu, (our fearless leaders) and headed out of our walled and gated hostile, and into Johannesburg. Today was our “tourist day” of Jo-burg, but I don’t know how we will fit in. We are a mob of 24 walking in with American clothing, cameras, and bags.



Driving around Jo-burg you really could see the discrepancy between classes. We drove past Volvo car lots and mansions, and straight into Soweto. Soweto (South Western Township)a black township which was established under the Apartheid government and the location of the student shooting and systematic killing of 1976.



Out first stop was the Mandela house, “it was the opposite of grand, but it was my first true home of my own and I was mighty proud. A man is not a man until he has a house of his own.” Nelson Mandela. The Mandela house instilled a reverence for Nelson Mandela as well as the work and life of his wife Winnie Madikizela-Mandlea. This area was revamped and prettified for the world cup.



Hector Peterson Memorial museum



First Victim..



A bullet burnt

Into soft dark flesh



A child fell



Liquid life

Rush hot

To stain the earth



He was the first victim



And now

Let grieving the willows

Mark the spot

Let nature raise a monument

Of flowers and trees

Lest we forget the foul and wicked

Deed..





- Don Mattera 1976



Hector Pieterson a 13 year old school boy was the first victim of the June 16 1976 clash between black youths and the South African National Party government and its apartheid regime. Thousands of underfunded and neglected black school children protested the change of teaching in their native tongue to English and then Afrikaans. The planed peaceful protest turned into a systematic killing of people with an estimated 700- 1200 victims. The museum was a powerful beautiful memorial to sad history of this country. How should a history so dominated by sadness be remembered or commemorated? The museum presented the history wonderfully impressing the horror and sadness of the event as well as instilling hope for the future. I felt empowered learning how these school children some still in elementary school protested. It made me think… as children and teens we think we have no power, so we do nothing to bring awareness to issues and be advocates when these youth, in grade school, middle school and high schools, organized and marched and eventually sacrificed their lives to protest an injustice. They lit the fire to end apartheid.



We then participated in our own class hypocrisy. We went form the tin huts of the shanty town to the westernized super mall. I was slightly perturbed that we were spending our time at the mall, but then I realized I am going to be here for 3 and half months I am tired and have just arrived don’t need a 360 culture shock just yet, and this is part of South Africa, the westernized portion.



Back at the hostile they set up a tv for us and we are going to watch the south African vs. new Zealand.



It was 45 degrees this morning, then about 65 now its cold again.

Finally!!!

I'm in South Africa now. I feel like a European backpacker at the moment, we are staying in a pretty nice youth hostel close to the airport. I have met every one in my group and they are all really nice, but there are 24 (23 girls and one guy, and the guy might be gay) new faces and names to learn so I am a bit overwhelmed. I changed some money over when I got to the airport $65 is about 390 rand, which will last me supposedly about a week for lunches, snacks, converters and other supplies.



Our first African meal was ok… it was a meat gravy casserole/ potatoes and salad. Always a vegi, meat, and starch



My trip over here seemed surprisingly fast. I thought I would dread the plane, but it was a nice to have time just to relax and catch up down time when I was not required to run around. I was seat buddies with this lovely South African woman, who adopted me like a grandchild. Mom would have loved her. She was a soft spoken nurse who has lived and gown up in South Africa all her life. We talked for hours about community health, family, cultural traditions, she even attempted to teach me a little zulu.

Zulu lesson 1: Greetings are VERY important. Every convo starts with asking how the person is doing before anything else

Sawubona (good evening/ hello/ I see you) then you reply with…

Unjani (how are you)

Yebo (yes)

Ngikhona, wena unjani? (I’m fine how you are?)



Body having trouble with jet lag off to bed!