Archive for May, 2010

I didn’t write yesterday’s blog yesterday because it was so cold. My roommate huddled up in his blanket and fell asleep (a recurring pattern, he’s asleep now!), and I couldn’t be bothered and did the same. Thanks to a long sleep, we woke early feeling fresh and ready for a new day.

It started off slowly, with an introduction to what we’ll be doing (again) and more indications towards what our timetables will consist of (without actually getting them). Another session of ‘icebreakers’, which I remarked to a volunteer: “I’ve been through many icebreakers the ice is already broken damnit!” As my roommate mentioned, we’ll probably be saying “We’ll find out what we’re doing tomorrow” till we leave. There were interesting things to be said, however, as the project leader indicated a resistance to the education system when she was young, stating “I passed my metric with 5 subjects. I didn’t pass with 6 because I ignored history. They taught us a history I didn’t agree with. [Their version of history].”

After a long morning in the library brainstorming our expectations etc, we went on another trip of the town. Thinking that it’d just be a repeat of yesterdays ‘unofficial’ tour, we were slightly sceptical. We soon learnt that there was more to see, and so in the awesome afternoon sun we strolled to Mamre’s ‘heritage area’. When looking to a littered space, the guide (a local lad, himself coloured) stated “It’s culture for the coloured people to destroy things.” We’ve also picked up a number of off-hand comments from the coloured people here – particularly about blacks (they’re the ones bringing crime to the area, they can’t speak English etc.).

After seeing Mamre’s oldest buildings and meeting the Moravian Church’s Priest (originally a missionary base, this is undoubtedly the source for much of the conservatism in the town), we headed up the hill flanking the town, hosing it’s cemetery, and as we later learnt, a selection of cattle and bulls. From the hill we caught sight of the entire town, with beautiful mountain backdrops including Table Mountain in the distance. Chilling in the afternoon sun, we sat on rocks and chatted about our lives, families and ambitions.

On the way down, aside from terrible fright of Cows, a volunteer asks about prunes; “They’re dried fruit. Oh, so what are they when they’re wet?”

We joined each other for fun times in the sports field later, playing with some of the host families’ children. I raced someone in a sprint for the first time in years and actually won, though a local volunteer outran us both. Watching a magnificent African sunset, we headed home (across the road) for a fried fish & chips dinner. Yum.

When I checked my email I found out about the floatilla boat raids and killings, I can’t believe that this can continue. Take action now!

Yesterday was about the kids. Sunday is ‘downtime’ so we roamed Mamre getting a better sight of the town. Many children here are used to volunteers and have grown in their confidence, sometimes acting slightly audacious. But as you may have noticed, I have a weakness for kids! One of the guys with us is fond of both children and animals – so a name was coined for him: “Kyle is like Dr. Doolittle crossed with the Pied Piper.”

Wherever we went there were a pack of children following, starting with just one or two and peaking at ten. A few of them have picked up routines, Michael Jackson’s dance moves are massively popular as children attempt to moonwalk across the tiles or jump on their toes. One of the boys humorously mocked an older woman by pulling his pants up to his chest and sticking his bum out, motioning with flaunting gestures. Another did the ‘gangsta’ walk, pulling his pants down slightly and sticking his hand out it front. It was sad to see them going to the next level by mocking cripples and disabled people, and I wondered if we did the same when we were younger. There are a few twins in town, so someone expressed another quote-worthy line: “Does anyone think the twins round here look like the twins off the Sims?”

Ironically, what the others loved at first turned into a chore by the end of the day, as they found it difficult to get rid of the kids. Guess you can’t really win. As I wrote in my journal, there’s something about the presence of children that lightens everything and brings a smile to your face.

The librarian gave us a tour of a side of Mamre we were yet to see. The others commented it was ‘more like what they’d expected’ as it was more run down with a larger proportion of tin-roofed houses. The area certainly provided much more powerful imagery than where we’re actually staying, and highlighted a question about the effectiveness of how we’ve been placed. I’ve been consistently surprised at how little the others were prepared for what we’d be experiencing, the fact that we have hot water, constant electricity and access to pretty much everything we’re used to has been a shock for some of them (do note that I’m the only one with internet access, using my phone as a modem).

Okay, so just to prove that I’m not bias – I’ll put a quote to highlight my own stupidity. Last night, when looking at the beautiful sky: “Can we not see the north star because we’re in the Southern Hemisphere? No, it’s because we’re south of the equator.” (Exclamation marks here!)

Today we had a tour of the town, finding our bearings and learning the ins and outs (of which there aren’t many!). One thing we immediately observed is just how close-knit the community really is. Everyone knows everyone. Like literally. The people are incredibly friendly, whether young or old they will greet you politely, and many will stop to talk. The kids are so cute (aah mixed race kids!) and really enjoy our company.

For some reason, a few people in the group expressed a keen interest in the existence of ‘CPOs’ (Child Protection Officers) in the community. I assume it’s probably based on the media hype surrounding the issue in the UK. So today’s quote lies here, when one of the volunteers asks (after numerous slightly random questions): “If a child’s being abused [by their parents], do they go to their parents?”

The day was beautiful, cold for Africa at 17 degrees, but fantastic blue skies with perfect vision all around. We wandered round and chatted for most of the afternoon before returning home to get properly settled. A chat with Aunty Sarah (host mum) reveals more about her experiences during Apartheid and the difficulties they went through – from her sister being jailed for challenging an officer to their ongoing struggle for reparations for land that was rightfully theirs. Without the memories which live through people, the recent history may easily be forgotten.

I’ll keep this one short and sweet. I’ll end by expressing my gratitude to the bath I had today. Sounds ridiculous I know, but I can’t remember the last time I had an actual bath (yes, I shower regularly). After the last few tiring days, it felt so amazing. Host mum’s cooking byriani tomorrow, I think I’ll try and observe to learn for myself!

Today was a long day. It started by oversleeping by an hour and draws to an end in a new town wearing three layers and the question in my head of what the next 10 weeks have in store.

I don’t like the idea of being one of many people to have trodden this path, something quite apparent by the way in which the people here are dealing with ‘yet another group of volunteers’. But what I fear more is the fact that our presence will have very little relevance to these people. I came prepared with the knowledge that this may well be the case, and that’s one reason why I’ve set out for this to ultimately be a course of self-development.

This morning we started by visiting the independent museum for District 6, a district in Cape Town in which it’s coloured and black inhabitants were forced to leave under the apartheid regime. Interestingly, our host dad was a resident of District 6 at the time. He told us of his story, being under curfew to only be allowed in Cape Town for working hours, resettling and receiving no loan to build this house with his wife. It seems as though he wasn’t involved the anti-apartheid movement, but it was uplifting to hear a South African speaking with disgust about Israel’s blockade on Gaza, Israeli apartheid and how Zionists were adamant supporters of the SA Apartheid regime. Of course, if anyone should speak against it, it should be these people.

We then went on to see the townships. I wasn’t the first to comment on the slightly absurd manner in which townships (i.e. people’s homes) were being explored by western tourists, to the extent that the places we visited clearly have a deal with the tourism agency and have stalls awaiting visitors. It’s strange to see the contrast between the poor townships and the rich areas nearby, but I was surprised by the make-up of the townships themselves, for within the areas they too have a similar contrast with shacks next to solid brick buildings.

The tour guide expressed a bias optimism towards the development of the townships, giving the very poor example of Coca-Cola giving ‘free boards’ (i.e. free advertising) for the shack-shops to put up. Here’s where today’s quote of the day comes in, as a volunteer then asks: “Did they start rebuilding the townships because of the World Cup?” I cringed a lot for the comments on today’s travels, but that was one of the worst. The tour guide rightly denied that any development has taken place in the poor areas due to this event, and instead pointed out the fact that for the last few years it has basically come to a halt.

Fast forward a few hours and we end up in Mamre, the town where we’ll be spending the next 10 weeks volunteering on different projects. I’m living with a nice ‘aunty’ and ‘uncle’; however it seems that there will be some adjusting I’ll have to do. Head up, early start, let’s see what happens.

Oh and by the way, it’s cold :[

It’s late and we have an early start, but I do feel the need to remain committed to blogging. Another exciting day, being sent on the tour of the town after to listening to even more rules. Turns out we’re not allowed to breathe (!) The tour was amusing, apparently guided by a professional – I’m pretty sure mobile internet would’ve been more informative and certainly more accurate [subtle jokes here].

The day was also one of quotations, as I’m sure the rest of the trip will be. When walking through Greenmarket Square I complained about the immensely obvious fact that we were a group of largely white tourists. So in conversation with a fellow volunteer, I said: “You stand out because you’re [pale] white. I could be mixed race (i.e. ‘Coloured’)…actually, uh, I am mixed race!”

At the statue of a ‘great’ British imperialist and colonialist, one of the volunteers interrupted the tour guide to offer: “I think he worked with Cecil? Cecil and Rhodes?” Under the statue was his name; “Cecil John Rhodes.”

I couldn’t actually believe how terrified the group were by the presence of, guess what, squirrels and pigeons. They were all screaming (video evidence!) and running. I hung my head in shame and attempted to distance myself from them…

And of course, they go on: “My Father’s actually from Yemen.
Oh, so is that outside of England?”

And when repeating the joke later to the group, another volunteer offered: “So…it is out of England?”

Beyond the jokes and fun (learnt how to play a number of card games today!), it still doesn’t really feel like I’ve left Europe, let alone entered Africa. And if we were to spend all our time here in the nice parts of the city, I doubt it ever really would.

It was a long flight but it didn’t feel like 12 hours. Accompanied by a group of 15 people I’d never previously met, we set off on high spirits. On the plane we acquainted ourselves better through conversation ranging from faith to journal keeping to the rules of the card game ‘top trump’ (which I still do not understand).

Observing the overwhelming sensitivities the group have displayed towards one another is intriguing, something which undoubtedly will wear off as we become accustomed to our likes and dislikes and more (un)comfortable around each other. Yet I remain optimistic, knowing I’ve been landed with a tolerant and diverse set of individuals.

We had a pretty amazing day. Arriving at Cape Town in the morning we traveled straight to the hostel where we’ll stay for 2 days. After being told the ‘rules’ again (my scepticism towards authority has already been picked up on by a few members of the group), we took a leisurely stroll along the sea front. It was a beautiful sight, though I was distraught that my camera decided to give the message “Battery Exhausted” when I posed to be soaked by an oncoming wave. So picture it instead, as I had to suffer the rest of the day with salty hair and a wet jacket for nothing.

Ending up at the ‘Waterfront’, we then jumped on an hour long boat tour of the harbors. Whilst relaxing in the wavering sunlight and catching sight of a few seals and a shark, we observed the sights, from the newly built football stadiums to Robben Island in the distance. The day ended with a nice meal at a restaurant in town, before being ushered back to the hostel for curfew (resists comment).

Beyond a glimpse of a township on the way into town, I feel we are yet to see much of the reality of the country of South Africa. I’m sure that the next few days and weeks will bring to light a clearer picture of an image very much hidden from our comfortable hostel.

And so it begins. In a few hours I will be making my way to the airport for the start of what I’m sure will be an incredible journey. I felt it would be appropriate to start the documentation of my travels to South Africa with a powerful stanza from a book by the poet Aimé Césaire:

“For it is not true that the work of man is finished
That man has nothing more to do in the world
But be a parasite in the world
That all we now need is to keep in step with the world.
But the work of man is only just beginning
And it remains to man to conquer all the violence embedded
in the recesses of his passion
And no race possesses the monopoly of beauty, of intelligence, of freedom
There is a place for all at the rendezvous of victory.”

I find the title, and these words, in the book I’m reading to learn of the country’s past and present, entitled “Thabo Mbeki and the Battle for the Soul of the ANC“. The first chapter gives a good overview of the origins of the anti-apartheid struggle, looking forward to learning of how the movement progressed. I particularly find the connection with the Black Conciousness Movement and the international black struggle both fascinating and empowering.

The more I glance over the endless pages of history, lessons, morals and struggles, the more I realise just how little I’ve strived in my own battles. Once a desire to seek knowledge, it scares me to think of the void I’ve made to fill with other, far more useless devices.

There are so many things I’d like to achieve from this trip. It may seem like a long time, but I have no doubt the 10 weeks will come and go with many regrets. I just hope I return to the UK knowing I didn’t waste any of that most precious resource, that which is rapidly escaping me.