Christen in Cape Town

Home Again

2009-06-21T20:25:00.001+02:00

I have been home a week and I am trying to decide if I am back to “normal” and before everyone comments that I was never normal I’ll just say that sometimes I feel like I never left Minnesota and my time in Africa was just a dream. I continue to have lots of dreams about Africa, but I had those before I went! Yesterday we hung up some of the items I brought home from Cape Town and the smell in the basket really brought me back – something sort of smokey in them smells like the market or the braii or just the humid air. There are something things I really miss about Africa: the slower pace, the almost skunky vegetation smell on a wet morning, the way people shake hands and hug when they greet each other.

On Thursday I had lunch with Aaron (who designed this class and gave me the opportunity to go in his place this year) and Jane (from Open Arms, who was in Guguletu for six months last year and is going again in September). After only a few minutes we were talking about our mutual friends there and it was if we picked up where a previous conversation left off. Both Aaron and Jane warned me that people would only listen for so long to my stories, and to be ready for that. After leaving them it really did dawn on me that I had gone to a very special place with real people and real concerns. I felt more than ever that I need to do something with what I have learned, although I am still quite uncertain what that will be.

I had my parents and sister’s family over for dinner last night and subjected them to a “slide show” of my pictures. Only 268 of them (I have over 700). They were all interested enough and asked some good questions but I can tell that I can’t fully explain everything and not everyone wants to know everything. As nice as they were about it, I was sort of let down after they left. Marc noticed right away my mood (something about going out to have a beer on the deck by myself might have been a clue) and he helped me to remember that we all have our own interests and understandings and nobody will “get it” quite like those who experienced it. Marc’s mom and sister come for dinner and slide show this evening…we’ll see if I handle that better.

We had a good conversation about “struggle.” Earlier in the week I had wondered aloud how many people struggle on a daily basis: to get food, to make ends meet, to get work, to get along with their family, to fight depression or illness, etc. etc. Marc heard on NPR a new study is out that said that one out of every six people in the world struggle with hunger. This after we “struggled” to find enough room in the refrigerator for the leftovers.

On the positive side, I was able to recreate the malva pudding we had in Cape Town (Emily Smith, remember this was the dessert that came with the warthog ribs!). It was really good but not quite as sweet as the one we had (and how this is possible when it has 2 cups of sugar in it, I’ll never know). Also, Sophia successfully explained how you say, “Molo weni” when greeting a group and only, “Molo” when saying hello to one person. I was proud of her.

People keep saying to me, “You must be so glad to be home!” and yes indeed I am. But I am also so glad I went. It was hard to be away from my family but it was an experience that I believe they have shared with me. Ingrid now says to me, “You can’t go away again unless you take me with you.” I ask her if she’s willing to get immunizations to go and she says “Yes if you’ll take me with you to Africa next time.” When I wished I had brought home four baskets Sophia told me she’d get me one “when I go to Africa.”

So when will we go to Africa? Soon I hope. When you get the chance, I hope you will go. As much as we Americans think Africa must be “so different” from here, it is and it isn’t. Yes they have giraffes and baboons and even penguins, and people say “molo weni” and that they’ll be there “just now” (which is in about 45 minutes). But they also drive Toyotas and eat chicken and go to church and waste time on Facebook and love their families and get frustrated with the weather. I’ve done all of that since returning.

Thank you for reading. This will be my last blog. I leave you with my favorite picture from the whole trip: laundry in the township.

The Last Week in South Africa

2009-06-12T11:15:00.002+02:00

It is Friday, June 12 as I write this. I will be spending the day packing and maybe revisiting the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens this afternoon. It is another sunny, dry and unseasonably warm day here in winter in Cape Town. I hear it hasn’t been this nice in Minnesota’s summer. I leave tomorrow at 10:55 PM. As much as I am counting down the minutes to get home to my family, I am likely to be very sad to leave this beautiful place. I’ve shed a lot of tears here but I have also had lots of laughs and smiles.

I was asking Emily Smith the other day what her highlight was and she kept adding on to the list. Neither one of us could come up with just one thing that will speak to our Cape Town experience.

This last week we have spent time in the classroom (lest you forget this was a “job” I came to do!) and I continue to be impressed with how much these 20-something year olds can take in and process and make meaning of. I don’t think their thoughts are fully formed yet (I know mine aren’t) but I do believe they are inspired. People told us that this trip would “change your life” and we’ve debated that a bit. Are we changed? Can we tell yet? Or did Cape Town just awaken some things in us that were already there: compassion, leadership, adventure? Time will tell.

I leave you with pictures of our last week. We shopped and bargained in Greenmarket Square, toured Robben Island (former prison that held many political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela), went up Table Mountain and watched a beautiful sunset, walked the beach and waded in the ice cold Atlantic. As I write three of them have gone shark diving!

We also revisited Guguletu and took some pictures of the progress being made on the renovations at Priscilla’s house. That might have been the most beautiful thing of all!

I’ll probably post one more blog when I get home. Thank you for reading. Thank you for taking care of my family while I was here. Thank you for taking interest in this wonderful place. I hope maybe it has sparked something in you as it has in me.

The photos are of our day at Muizenberg beach - lots of snails making trails in the morning. Sunset on top of Table Mountain, Cape Town at dusk from the top of the mountain, the "table cloth" over the mountain, all of us on top of the mountain, and the mountain pictured from Robben Island.

I am posting these from home - yes, I made it home safely. Final thoughts coming after I have a chance to even have final thoughts!

The state of healthcare

2009-06-11T18:13:00.002+02:00

I promised discussion of health care system in Guguletu and have been slow to get to writing this. It has been almost a full week since we left Guguletu and I think I hesitate on this one the most because it is hardest for me to understand. I am frustrated enough with the status of healthcare in the U.S. so discussing this is going to be really tough.
The biggest issue is of course AIDS. No question. South Africa has an extremely high infection rate, and it is hard to not blame this on lack of education, lack of government response, and even some cultural factors. I can’t say that the U.S. has always been much better than this, to be fair. However, I can’t help but continue to think that HIV/AIDS is the sly continuation of apartheid here, because it invades the townships but not the white community. The prevalence of AIDS can be linked directly to the lack of education, and the lack of decent education can be blamed on economic disparities that were part of the design of apartheid. As Aaron has described it in the past, where the face of the AIDS victim in the USA is of a white, gay man, in South Africa the face of AIDS is that of a black heterosexual woman.

That said, and sorry if I offend, now I can move on to what is positive. On our first full day in the townships we mend Mandla Majola who is the local director of the Treatment Action Campaign (TAC). Mandla was dubbed “the best grassroots organizer in all of South Africa.” (In fact then-senator Barak Obama came to meet him to learn some of his organizing skills when he started his run for president.) Mandla is pictured here on the right. On the left is Xolani (mentioned below).

TAC can be thanked for the new prevalence of the distribution of antiretroviral drugs (ARVs) to keep people alive. They work very well in helping fight off the kind of “infections of opportunity” that may kill someone who is HIV positive, as long as the ARVs are taken by someone who gets proper nutrition. There is a government health plan that gives a discount for “healthy foods” purchased at the grocery store (hello, USA, we should do this too!). TAC also has helped spread the word about the importance of using condoms (they distribute them for free – in fact there are boxes of free, government-issued condoms in almost every restroom on the UCT campus and even in bars and restaurants). They’ve also been working on supporting people who are HIV positive to know that they can live with the disease if they fight it properly. TAC also works on stigma in the communities. They’ve also been instrumental in fighting the government in court when the issue called for it, particularly on educating pregnant women who are HIV positive on the simple way they can insure the baby will not be HIV positive if they take the proper precautions.

Mandla himself was a very personally interesting story to me… he told us his inspiration to fight came from losing too many friends and family members to HIV. He said he is HIV positive himself and admits he suffers from depression. I asked him how he keeps from succumbing to it, and he said, frankly, “I love sports. I follow rugby, soccer, cricket, tennis, you name it.” (This country is sport crazy, I tell you, and it’s fun to watch rugby and cricket regularly. If only I understood what I am watching.)

We also visited a TB clinic, and another health clinic in Guguletu. The facilities are pretty good considering how many people they serve, but the waiting can be very, very long. There is no such thing as an appointment (and certainly nothing like a Minute Clinic). Clinics are government supported but find that they run out of government-issued drugs often before the next supply arrives. We brought some basics with us: bandages, topical ointments, Tylenol and ibuprofen. They were very appreciated. And when we left we scrubbed down with Purell.

JL Zwane supports a theatrical performance group called Siyaya, which does dramatic presentations in clinic waiting rooms illustrating the importance of getting tested for HIV, using condoms, being faithful. The performance was sometimes racy, sometimes funny, and sometimes scary (and not always in English, but we could follow it). They sang as well. It was very successful at least at entertaining those waiting to be called in to see the nurse or doctor. Siyaya performers pictured first, then the waiting room at the clinic.

To illustrate the story of AIDS in the township let me introduce you to Lydia and Neo. Lydia is HIV positive and has been very sick. With the help of ARVs she is strong again and is able to take care of her son Neo, who is 6 and is also HIV positive. Lydia has no family other than her son. She lives in a shack out back of some distance relative, and it’s a difficult situation because these relations will not let her in the house and bleach everything she touches. Neo is also very sick and has other complications that require surgery, but he can’t have the surgery until he gets stronger. Edwin and JL Zwane have helped Lydia by building her a nicer shack, and Jane Letourneau at Open Arms helped by getting Lydia some much-needed glasses (she’s losing her site as a complication to the ARVs, I think). We had the honor of going with Lydia when she got her glasses. It was heart-warming to see how such a basic gift made a huge difference in her life. Jane, you would have loved it.

I heard today that the H1N1 virus is on the verge of being declared a global pandemic. Again, sorry if I offend, but if it is a pandemic we sure have a lot to learn about how to treat a pandemic. AIDS is almost completely preventable but still it is allowed to rage on. This makes me angry.
Let me say some things about the township so that my friends don’t completely think it is a cesspool. There are marvelous people there. Edwin, Spiwo, Johanna all are amazing people. Xolani (koh-LAH-nee) our driver in the township is another example of grace and kindness under difficult circumstances: he took in his brother’s kids after the brother died, and he has a son of his own and they all live in a shack that flooded while we were there (and he never complained). Our Mamas and their friends have tremendous heart and spirit and every one of them is involved in the church or the community center in several ways, and this is in addition to raising their children (and grandchildren) and having jobs. I will remind myself of this every time I think I am “too busy” to help when my community is in need (sorry Marc, this means more volunteering is in my future).

And I want to say something preachy before I finish (and then I’ll return to blogs about the beauty of Cape Town): never underestimate your ability to help people, no matter how large the problem may seem. Recycle you clothes by donating them. Pull a few jars of peanut butter out of the pantry when the food drive happens. Read with the kids at school and show them that they can succeed and that there are other adults they can trust. Welcome people into your home, church or community. Let kids know they have value by coaching, teaching, greeting them by name when you see them. These are all very small things. I saw the incredible power of small things when in Guguletu. The impact of a pack of McDonald’s toys on kids who have few toys. The excitement over new socks. The gratefulness for a package of rice and some fish sticks. The smile that comes from being shown your picture in someone’s digital camera screen. It is my hope to be grateful every day for the small kindnesses I have been shown by the people of Guguletu. I thought I was bringing them so many small things, but they gave me so much more.

"Education is the key" - Edwin

2009-06-09T10:52:00.004+02:00

First some clarity on previous posts: I did NOT lead singing in church!! I co-lead at one of our homestay dinners. Goodness, it makes my stomach flip just to THINK about leading singing at church! Also, I wrote that my homestay Mama’s name was Thoka when it is really Thoko. I kept doing that while was there too…

Also, many of you know it was my birthday on June 6. We spent the day at two vineyards and I really enjoyed the day (and not just because of the wine, thank you). Later the students bought me dinner and gave me a gift (wine, of course). I bought some bubble bath and spent the rest of the evening relaxing in the tub with a glass of the gift wine and a good book. As I mentioned to a few, the luxury was wonderful after the township days, and I felt a bit guilty for the luxury. (But not so guilty as to not want to do this again later this week.)

Okay, on to our next topic from the township: education. There are three types of schools in South Africa: public, community and private. Public schools are free, supported by the government, and in the township, often substandard. In Guguletu there is also a community school we visited which is like a government school but it also gets community support in terms of funding or services (like teachers). The one we visited is called Stormount (classroom pictured - look at the ceiling), and it is built out of several shipping containers put together, intending to alleviate some of the crowding at the public schools, and to build something closer to home. I delivered school supplies here (thanks to Ingrid & Sophia’s garage sale profits, a portion of which they decided to donate here, good going, girls! First picture at left). This is also where we brought the soccer ball I mentioned in the previous blog.

The last is private schools which really range in price and in rigor. The young woman I stayed with went to high school in Sea Point, which is a good distance away. I am not sure how she got there each day. She said she had a very diverse class in terms of race and economics, but that they blended very well. Sea Point is a mostly white community on the Cape Penninsula, so I imagine this is one of the better schools a township kid could go to. Edwin’s kids also go to a nearby (but not in the township) private school. He said their fees range depending on age from 500 rand to R900 per month. ($62-112 a month). This is a lot of money for a family to afford. To give you an idea, if a family is on “state grant” (welfare) they only get R900 a month, and Edwin said that would likely feed a family for about two weeks.

In all cases kids wear uniforms to school which are rather elaborate…they have sweaters, collared shirts, pants or skirts, and in upper grades track jackets and pants, and they require black shoes. Uniforms can be both a blessing and a curse: they are a great equalizer, but they can be expensive – about R200 ($25) for the whole getup for an elementary aged kid. High school girls in uniform in this pic.

A couple afternoons we spent time at the Rainbow after school program at JL Zwane. This program provides a hot lunch/snack and homework help for two hours after school for kids who would normally go home to no food and nobody who can help them with their homework (and sometimes home to nobody at all). The highlight for me was when I spent time with 7 year olds who were in the library practicing their reading. I do this often at Oakwood where my kids go to school and really enjoy it there. Of course I couldn’t read with all of them because they read in Xhosa, but some were reading in English and I helped with that. The book they had was one of those preschool picture books and they were learning the English words for apple, book, table, etc. They were SO proud when they knew the words! One little girl sitting next to me liked to stroke my hair and she told me it was “slippery” (it was a bit greasy, I’d have to say) but she just kept doing it and it was so like snuggling with my own kids that I almost didn’t let her go. She gave me a big hug when she left and I teared up. Wow what big smile. She is the one on the right in this picture.

University education is even more expensive: about R10,000 a year ($1250) at the cheapest, I was told.

And it was over school uniforms that I hit my biggest wall of the week. On Thursday evening, we went to visit Priscilla to tell her about the money U of M students raised to help renovate her bedrooms. This should have been a wonderful moment, but just before getting out of the van to go in there I hesitated. I didn’t want to see all these kids huddled around the heater once again. I didn’t want to see their runny noses. But I went in anyway because this was going to be a happy visit. But in an earlier conversation with Edwin and Rev. Spiwo Xapile (say kah-PEE-lay) at JL Zwane they expressed concern for Priscilla’s children and how they might be doing in school, considering that their at-home help from her may not be enough. So I asked Priscilla and some of the older kids how they were doing in school. Priscilla said, “some need uniforms” and had a younger one go get his school sweater to show me. It had big holes in it. I just nodded and then excused myself from the house. (Johanna then took down sizes and made notes on what was needed, so maybe she can get them help.)

Edwin sensed my frustration and asked me to take a drive with him to go get supplies for our next day’s service project. When he asked me my thoughts I choked out, “It shouldn’t be hard to go to school. School is hard enough on its own.” And then it dawned on me. School for some kids isn’t only hard because of trying to get along with your peers, or learning how to read, or struggling with math. It’s hard because they may do this on an empty stomach, after sleeping in a cold shack, maybe sleeping on the floor, with nobody to read with them at home, and worries about what might happen to them as they walk alone to school. And so Edwin told me that uniforms are about $25 and I got really mad – I have $25, I have way more than $25, how much do you need? And then the wall: how much do they need? How much longer will they keep on needing money for uniforms? How many kids will get lost in the shuffle until the time comes when they no longer need help buying uniforms? And I just kept on crying and crying until we got to the hardware store.

And then the hardware store really bugged me. It’s basically a store counter and you ask for what you want and they go get it off the shelf. No brand comparison, no big orange cart and people in orange aprons to help you figure out what grade of sandpaper you need. You need sandpaper, how rough? A or B. Those are your choices. Never in my life have I wanted to go to Home Depot, but here I was, screaming in my head, “Where the hell is Home Depot!” (Looking back on it I can laugh out loud at this thought!)

Please know that I got past this wall. I went on to the last night of homestay dinner and danced a bit with the Mamas and the students (although I hear I don’t quite have the moves of Aaron and I think we’re due for a dance-off when I get back, Asmundson!). I am fearful for the Facebook pictures that may get me fired or at least humiliated, but, whatever!

Conversation today (Monday, June 8) in class with the students really helped me with this wall. They have great observations of where there are hopeful signs (even Smartboards in one of the schools some of them visited!) and they clearly saw where leadership was being demonstrated. I also see the spark in their eyes and know that they are inspired to use their gifts as leaders to make a difference in the world, whether it is here in Guguletu or elsewhere in the world. I’ll keep you posted on their plans.

The joys and sorrows of childhood in the township

2009-06-07T21:25:00.004+02:00

Children in the township both broke my heart and saved my sanity. Being a mother and someone whose own mother spent her entire career concerned with the welfare of children, and also being an educator myself I was particularly interested in what the life of these kids would be like. I learned a lot. What to do with this knowledge is my next challenge.

There were children of all ages everywhere: at church, playing in the streets (they have no yards), walking to school, hamming it up for pictures. They had lots of energy and were really excited to see white people. Edwin told us some of them may never have seen white people before. Ben was called “mlunga” (mah-LOON-guh) by some, which was simply “white guy.” All of us really enjoyed taking pictures of the kids, then showing them the digital camera screen and seeing them squeal even louder when they saw themselves in the picture. Ben had video and that was almost more than they could stand as they’d jump up and down while watching.

We spent some time at the Stormount school and saw kids playing soccer with a ball made from a condom they had blown up and filled with plastic shopping bags. We returned the next day with a real soccer ball (I believe this was Ben’s idea) and they were extremely excited and played right away with Ben (and smoked him with their moves a few times!). I noticed girls were not playing and asked Johanna, our township guide, if girls played soccer. She said they play “net ball” (basketball) and I felt sad that we hadn’t brought them a ball, but then there was no net. And we had already brought school supplies. Seems the needs are endless.

Johanna (at left with Brittney, pretending she has blonde hair) is a great story too. She quit her job as a cleaning lady a while back because she was having pain from the manual work (not sure her age but I’d say in her early 60s?). She came to JL Zwane and started a home visit program, meeting with old ladies and sometimes with orphans. She brings food when she can, prays with them, basically makes their day, and brings news about their condition back to the community center. But Johanna herself is living day to day. She is a volunteer. She has no income, so they feed her for the work that she does. She talked about the apartheid days and how hard they were, and how she attempts to keep from getting angry. Her incredible faith in God is what keeps her going. I had a hard time wondering how God allowed this to happen to her and all the others we met. (Ironic in so many ways that I was reading “The Shack” while in Guguletu – a book where a man meets God in a wooden shack in the woods and God explains why bad things happen to people.)

We often gave out dum-dum suckers to kids and got big smiles for that too. Not sure if this was appropriate: giving candy to kids who might not have had breakfast, and might not be getting dinner when they get home.

Home life is hard enough with the living conditions I’ve described, and the lack of food for many of them. Fortunately food is often provided at school through government programs or the help of the community center. JL Zwane also delivers food parcels to families, which consists of pap, porridge, rice, biscuits (think biscotti or hard cookies), milk (which is not refrigerated), and chicken, beef patties, and frozen fish sticks. Thank Open Arms of Minnesota for this (and if you want to give to the South Africa “food scheme”, as they call it, you can do so through Open Arms: www.openarmsmn.org).

Add to this the family make-up. We noticed a missing generation – MY generation – the mothers and fathers. These parents, if the are around, are working during the day and due to transportation issues, they may leave as early as 4:00 in the morning to get to work, and they get home way after 6:00. Sometimes parents are in a different part of the country because of their work. If they are not around, it could be due to alcoholism and drug use, which is rampant (particularly among men). Many others have died young due to AIDS or cancer or other infectious diseases (more on health care in another blog), and still more are sick with these diseases and are too weak to help out. So, children often stay with grandmothers or other family members. Johanna, who visits these “grannies” and many of the orphaned children, says the grannies are ill-equipped to help kids with homework or to teach them about things like AIDS, saying no to drugs, how to stop abuse. I noted that in the US we talk about the stresses of my generation as the “sandwich generation” – we end up raising our children and taking care of our parents as they age. In Guguletu this generation doesn’t exist. So there is no one to take care of the grannies or the children, except each other. Johanna told us that it used to be that neighbors would take care of neighbors, and although much of that spirit still exists, people now lock their doors, don’t check on each other, steal from each other out of desperation. Little girl pictured here is Liso, who lives with her mother and grandmother. Sophia and Ingrid should recognize the stuffed kitty she is holding. Liso is 2 and cried when I left her house the first night I met her.

So what happens to these children? We heard about horrible things: young pregnancies (12 or 13 years old), joining gangs, rapes, drugs and alcohol. Kids in safer environments also grow up very quickly: they know how to cook, do laundry (by hand, remember), take care of the younger kids. Top this off with learning several languages (native plus English and sometimes Afrikaans), “maths,” arts, history and an early program of how to take care of themselves when it comes to sex, abuse, and avoiding drugs. The kids in the picture here are from the afterschool program we helped out with. More on that later...

But one thing they don’t learn, we were told, is self-esteem. Nobody tells them they have value. They don’t do “Magnificent Me” books like Ingrid just finished in 3rd grade at the same time I was learning that these kids have no sense of who they are and what they are capable of. Many did express to us their dreams, however: to go to University and become a doctor or lawyer or actor. Education is clearly the key to getting them out of this situation, but education has its problems and expenses too (see upcoming blog about that!).

We met lots of people who work with the children, as educators and social workers mostly. How they continue on in their day to day work is unfathomable. We asked one woman, Weizewe, how she managed not to burn out and she said she gets restless and moves on to a new project in order to keep creative. She mentioned that working with government programs has really been dragging since they move so slowly and the task is so huge (but to the government’s credit, they have lots of programs to try to help the kids). Her new project is to work with “carers” (anyone who takes care of children, be they day care providers or grannies) to give them training in all that social workers can cover, plus health and nutrition and providing them with a chance to “off-load” their stresses.

And the orphans. So many, many orphans. We didn’t see anything along the lines of an orphanage (an institution or building where orphans stay) but met many people who took in orphans. One of these people is Priscilla, who took in 12 orphans (some pictured at left). Students on this trip last year met her as well, and were so moved by her generosity and kindness that they raised over $8000 to help her. We were honored to be able to tell her that the bedrooms of her house would be renovated with the money they raised. I am not sure she fully understood this, but the construction should start on Monday and I hope to go back Thursday to take pictures of the progress. Jessica on our trip is staying in Cape Town into July so she hopes to come back and take pictures of the completed project. Amazing work, U of M students. Special thanks to Kate and Brian for making sure the money got there in time for us to help you present it. (More on how the money is being spent coming from David.)

And the last story I want to tell is about Noluyolo, an 18 year old orphan who alone raises her 13 year old brother in a shack and has for something like five years (pictured left). She herself has not finished school as she didn’t pass her 12th grade year (can you imagine what distracted her??). She hopes to go to University someday to become a social worker (can you imagine what inspired her). We asked if her brother is giving her a hard time, being a teenager and all. She said he was, and has started to ask why they don’t have things that some of their friends have, and she’s trying to explain the economics of not having parents, not having a job, not having money, but staying in school and getting help from the community. Knowing how hard it is to explain the ways of the world to a child is, I really took this hard. The weight on her shoulders, the unfairness of the ways of their world…I stepped outside and cried here too.

To end this on an upbeat note, I will repeat that the children still showed great spirit and mischief and humor (and mostly, no shyness!). Children are still children, no matter where you go.

Township Life

2009-06-07T10:57:00.001+02:00

Now that I am back in my cozy guesthouse I am going to try to write about the township experience in Guguletu. It has taken me the last two days to try to sort this out in a way that can best describe the experience to others. I said many times in the township, “I can handle this as long as I don’t say it out loud” as if seeing it was just a dream, but speaking of it made it real. And if it is real, it is much more difficult to handle. So this many not be in chronological order (and you know how that’s killing me!) but let me attempt to paint a picture of the whole experience instead.

(Picture here, a grocery store and TV repair shop in a shipping container.)

I will begin with township life, as it has been shown and described to me. We began with a Presbyterian church service, held at JL Zwane community center (pictured at top of the page). JL Zwane (say ZWAN-ee) is a nice modern facility with a church big enough to hold perhaps 200 people. Service began with singing – joyful, soulful singing in Xhosa (say KO-sa). They gave us hymnals and we attempted to sing in this language full of Xs and clicking sounds and words beginning with unfamiliar double consonant combinations like “mL” and “mf”. But not only do they sing, they sway and clap and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get the rhythm of it right!

I was invited to speak by Rev. Edwin Louw, the director of the community center and now someone I call a dear friend. Fortunately he had taught me earlier in the week how to greet a group “Molo weni” – and when I said this they all greeted me in unison with something I didn’t recognize. I said something about being made to feel welcome already and thank you for inviting us: “Encosi” and they all said something back to that too. (If I haven’t explained, South Africa has 10 or 11 official languages, including English. Most of the adults speak English very well, although native to this township is Xhosa.)

We met our hosts for our homestays after that. These wonderful “Mamas” (and one Papa who really was more of a Brother) hugged us when they met us and we learned quickly that we’d be touched, hugged and squeezed for five days straight. My mama’s name was Thoka (TOE-kah) and I later met her husband Emdin (EM-djin, almost like “engine”) and 22 year old daughter Nokolunga (NO-ko-LOON-gah), whose room I shared. They own a family business making screen printed and embroidered shirts and other gear, particularly for their political party COPE (Congress of the People, the spin-off from the ruling party ANC) and various sporting events (the 2010 World Cup included). They are well off in this community. Their house is two bedrooms, one bath (no shower), living room and dining room, and a well-equipped kitchen with all the appliances we have at home with the exception of a clothes dryer. Because they run the business out of their home they also had a fax machine and a computer. All told this was probably about 1200 square feet. Pictured at left: Thoka and Emdin.

Each night we had dinner at one of the other homes where the students were staying (yes, dinner for all 11 of us, plus all of the Mamas, several children and grandchildren, other neighbors who helped cook). These other houses might have had rooms out in back of the house for the students to stay in, some did not have a bathtub with running water (ask Matt about his “township shower”: a bucket full of water and a cup), but some had “real showers” like we have at home. Most felt like they had been added onto piecemeal. All were heated by gas or electric space heaters. All had electricity and running water in some way. In the States we would have considered these homes to be lower-middle class to poor. But our perspective changed when we went out into the townships to visit the people helped by the JL Zwane staff.

The next level of homes (going down) is government homes built during the apartheid era (see left). These had some electricity, some running water, and concrete floors and walls, and usually more than one room. Roofs have holes in them, windows are broken and stuffed with paper or blankets to keep the rain and cold out. There were also hostels, built originally to house bachelors who were brought in from the rural areas to work for the white people. They were like the worst college dorm on steroids – one room, leaky, dirty, with shared bathrooms with sketchy plumbing. Although they were built to house one man, they now often hold entire families.

The next level down (yes, it gets worse) is an “informal settlement” home. I hate that phrase because it brings to mind American frontier people who circled the wagons at night and made a camp. This is nothing that adventurous or romantic – it is squalor. These shacks (which is what most people in the township call them) are made of corrugated metal, pieced together in any way possible, with tires and big rocks placed on the roofs to keep them from blowing away. Some have been standing long enough to have electricity in them (a wire hanging from the ceiling) but they must fetch water from a tap that is often shared by 50 other people. They are heated with paraffin heaters which are known to catch fire. They might have an electric burner on which to cook everything. There is no floor and are often built on low land, so in the rainy winter season not only do you have to worry about leaky roofs, you have to worry about seepage up through the sandy floor. And in the five nights we were there, I believe it rained every single night. The toilet is located outside – a port-a-potty also shared by about 50 others. Everywhere there is laundry hanging from the lines strung up between shacks. And shacks are wedged together with enough space between them that small children can squeeze through. Pictured here, shacks as far as the eye can see (this is Khayaleitsha, the bigget township in Cape Town) and laundry in an open area between several shacks.

And yet, as awful as this could be, I have never felt so welcomed to someone’s home as I was when we visited these homes. People showed us around, told us their story, posed for pictures, thanked us for coming, invited us to sit down on the rickety bed propped up on concrete blocks to keep them out of the water. They hung pictures (sometimes of American movie and pop stars), painted walls in bright colors, had pictures of Nelson Mandela. If we had asked to stay for a week, they would have offered us the bed and slept on the floor/ground.

Around the township, there are a many shops and businesses running out of shipping containers and other shacks. I’ve included a few pictures. We also ate lunch at Mozoli’s a meat market/barbeque joint. More meat on that table for 15 of us than most township folks eat in a month (see picture at left). And yes, Jane, we got "serviettes"!

As I mentioned we ate dinner every night together with our Mamas at one of our homestay houses. This was potluck gone wild: lots of meat (chicken, beef, lamb), pap (a very fine corn meal that looks liked mashed potatoes but sticks together in such a way as you can make balls out of it), rice, vegetables (squash, cooked carrots, spinach) and bread. To drink: always juice and Coke or orange Fanta! They always served us first. We always said a prayer for the food and a prayer before we parted. We also always sang a song (even once co-lead by me and the church’s song leader whose name I think was Goli). Singing is a lot of call and response and I did the calling part! (Merryl, if you’re reading this, you would have LOVED it!). The last few nights we danced too. These Mamas are mostly in their 40s and 50s and not one is too shy to have danced. And they taught us a move or two.

And so each night ended in prayer and singing and laughing. I think this is the only reason we survived what we saw during the day, what they see every day.

Coming up: the Children, education system, health care issues.

Safari Part 2

2009-05-31T07:07:00.005+02:00

Above:
Rainbow over zebra
Wildebeast
Springbok
Rhino backside
Female lions
Kudu

I've never been so present in the moment as I was on safari. It was absolutely a dream come true. And the rainbow right before we left was the icing on the cake. Hard to see in the photo, but it was a full arch.

Safari Saturday!

2009-05-30T22:37:00.003+02:00

I do not know how to put this into words so I will let the pictures do the talking. This was the experience of a lifetime. And although we have a powerful zoom on our camera, most of these were very, very close to us.

This is taking a ton of time to load and I need to go to bed so here are only a few for now:

Giraffe
Eland
Cheetah
Baboon (actually seen on the way there)

Coming another time: Zebra, Ornx, Rhino, Lions. And the rainbow that came out just as we were leaving. We're still not sure it was real.

I will not likely be publishing a blog during the next week while in Guguletu but may be able to check email. Send note to me there. Marc will be home on Monday afternoon - sad for me, mixed for him. I envy the hugs he is going to get... But I do feel I have more to do here...........

Friday - a day to think, finally

2009-05-30T07:30:00.002+02:00

The plan for today was to have class in the morning, with me as “lecturer”, and then go to Robben Island which during apartheid served as a prison for political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela. Well, the boats don’t go in bad weather, which we were faced with first thing this morning. Of course by afternoon, it was gorgeous, but the boats had all been cancelled. We will try to go in our third week.

Marc went to Greenmarket Square during our class time and came back with many souvenirs and gifts for our family. While he did this, I fascinated discussion with our group. Again, Minnesotans, be proud of your students. They are deep thinkers, good debaters, and respectful both of each other and the culture we are surrounded by here. You can read their blogs – although they are also funny and written with 20-year-old eyes and humor, they are also very insightful.

Part of our preparation today was for Guguletu, and getting to know the people there. We felt this morning like we hadn’t really had enough contact with the people of Cape Town, and that perhaps because of our group size we have not been open to meeting others, and have perhaps intimidated others into getting to know us. We also talked about what is different from home, and how this place is not what most Americans would picture as “Africa” – no savannah, no huts, no elephants. This place is rocky and green, not wide open and brown. It also has some very distinctly European flavors to it and people of many heritages. This is really an interesting crossroads of the world and I encourage everyone, EVERYONE to visit! Yes, we’ve only seen the touristy side (and are excited for tomorrow’s safari!) and I have made fun of the tourist side, but still, it is worth visiting as a tourist just the same

A few observations of how things are “different” here:

The cabs – there is such a thing as a cab as we know it in the states (here it is called a metered cab), but there are also minivans that drive here with the door open, shouting out the destination and whistling to see if you want a ride. You pay depending on how far you go on their route. It’s sort of like a bus in that there is only a route, and you ride with others. But it looks treacherous and they are constantly honking and yelling as you walk along Main Road (the, uh, main road between where I stay and the students stay).

Traffic lights are called robots. This is good to know when getting directions from someone. Then when they say “turn left at the second robot” you’re not looking for R2D2 or C3PO.

Nothing ever dries here. Not the towels, not your hair, not yourself when you wear jeans on a boat ride and get soaked. But I haven’t needed hand lotion since getting off the plane.

Some of my thoughts (some that the students share as well) as we head into a week in the township:

I have never had dinner in the home of a black person and now I am going to stay with one. This is hard for me to admit, perhaps because it shows how sheltered I have been or shows how closed off I have been to such invitations. I am not sure if I have ever had a black person as a guest in my home. Is it a product of my mostly-white surroundings or of my lack of openness to getting to know people of races other than my own?

I teach a class related to poverty in America. What am I going to see here that is different from that? Poverty in America is often a product of both system failures and the basics of capitalism, which has by design some winners and some losers. What is poverty here – is it lack of opportunity for work, lack of education, laziness? Does it mean not having a floor? Not owning a car? Not having a job? Would a “poor” American be considered poor if he/she lived here?

We’re told by the people who come here last year were angered, saddened and frustrated about what they saw, all at different times and in different ways. What will those ways be for me? I have already cried a few times, just thinking about it (no surprise to my friends at home; I am an easy cry). Will I lose it completely and bawl my eyes out to the extent of making others uncomfortable?!

And mostly, how will I be changed by all this?

Thanks for reading. I really appreciate all the comments, Facebook notes, emails. I want so much to share this with everyone and love hearing that my writing has not gone unread.

Thursday - Seals and Penguins and Ostriches, oh my

2009-05-29T15:27:00.004+02:00

[Note: written on Thursday night but not uploaded until now…see note below]

I got my wish to get back to nature – both its wrath and its glory. We woke to pounding rain this morning, and considered having our tour of the Cape Peninsula postponed. I am so glad that we didn’t! The rain (which is to be expected at this time of year, we’ve just been lucky up until now) let up a bit and turned to a fine mist as we approached Hout Bay. From there we took a boat out into the Atlantic to see Duiker Island, area where fur seals hang out. Although the seals were many and cute, the rolling sea and spray were more of the story. Being dizziness-prone as I am I chose to stay on deck and get soaked, along with Ben (wisely wearing full rain gear down to his toes), Marc (unwisely wearing jeans and rain coat we learned was no longer waterproof), some Chinese guys wearing bags over their suits, and the totally unfazed crew of the ship. We all laughed about it, nobody puked (I took my Dramamine, Mom!) and the Chinese guys joined us for a few pictures.

Next we were on to see the African penguins at Boulder’s Beach – one of the things I was most excited about. They do not disappoint!! They hang out on a beach were we could walk down on the boardwalk to see where they nest, swim and hang out. We got many great snaps and all did our best to imitate their walk. We also dried out here in the sun and the wind, and had a beautiful lunch at Seaforth, overlooking the beach. Ingrid and Sophia would have wanted to spend the whole day there: we missed them terribly at this point!

On to Cape Point, where the most southwestern point of the continent is marked. As our guide said, if you swim straight south you’ll get to Antarctic. If you swim due west you’ll get to South America. But don’t swim, it’s way too cold! The drive out to this point is through a national park, where zebra, eland (a type of antelope), baboons and ostriches roam. We drove right up alongside some ostriches (they are big and I worried about the revenge the might take on me over last night’s dinner choice). We also saw three eland at a distance , and only the droppings of baboons, and no trace of zebra. The view from the lighthouse and the walk up to it was spectacular as we could see all the way across False Bay, and watched clouds roll in to soak us just as we were about to get back on the bus. Lots of pictures taken here!

We drove on to Kirstenbosch botanical gardens, where they have every type of flora known to South Africa (and that’s not a general statement, but a true one). Lots of interesting succulents, flowers, even a baobob tree (I learned my rainforest knowledge from the first graders at Oakwood!). Marc got this fantastic picture of a hummingbird.

Throughout the day part of the joy of being outside was seeing how much the students enjoyed it. They took tons of pictures, laughed a lot, never complained about the long rides, etc. They had been up very late the night before, some of which we continued at lunch, and back “home” at dinner. They are a sharp bunch who represent the University of Minnesota in a manner that should make all you Minnesotans proud. Tomorrow morning we have a lot of time for discussion of our first days here, and we’ll begin our mental preparations for staying in the township for five days. I am so looking forward to this!

A little of Developing Country frustration to share: no internet service tonight because my guesthouse ran out of megabites tonight. Yes you buy them and have to “top off” to get more time when your service gets low, and they neglected to do that. I am afraid I am big part of the problem here in having used most of them up, but I know there are at least five others who were looking for service tonight in this 15-room guesthouse. Another difference that visitors might get frustrated with: service (like in restaurants) is slow. I am incredibly inpatient with this normally but am finding the 2-hour lunches are inviting more conversation. On the plus side of the slowness however, is that the food is piping hot! Burning hot!

We also have a funny heating-pad attached to the wall that you switch on when you need more heat, and we also have a roll-away space heater.

Wednesday – Don’t know much about history

2009-05-27T20:57:00.004+02:00

Today we started off with a fantastic 3-hour version of South African history, presented by Zwelethu Jolobe. He is a political scientist who can rattle off dates and anecdotes to keep you engaged for hours (and yes the assessment of him as handsome with a velvet voice to match didn’t hurt either). Our group had done a lot of work preparing for our trip, including reading some history of the country’s struggles, but this was the most comprehensive thing we’ve had. Our understanding of the development, implementation and tearing down of apartheid is pretty complete now. Witnessing some of the effects of apartheid is what we’ll see more of in week 2.

Our discussion then turned to more current politics, and it was really interesting to hear about what had to be done in this “fledgling” democracy to stabilize the nation before being able to move on to the social issues that face the South African people. Some of you know of the controversy surrounding the new president, Jacob Zuma (corruption charges, a rape allegation, the fact that he’s a polygamist!). Zwele’s assessment is that for all that Zuma had going against him going through the campaign, he has done all the right things since getting into office – particularly picking the right people. As the economic engine for the continent of Africa, all eyes are on what happens in South Africa. Let’s hope Zwele is right!

We illustrated some of the actions of the apartheid government by going to the District Six museum in the city center. This museum highlights the tearing down of an entire neighborhood of black and coloured people’s homes in an area that was declared to be “for whites only.” Not so unlike “urban renewal” actions in our own cities, people were displaced with little notice, moved to much lesser housing, and everything was torn down to make way for new nicer homes and buildings. The museum is dedicated to the stories of those who lived there.

We had free time to roam the area on yet another gorgeous day (sunny and in the mid-70s!). Marc and I chose the Cape Town Castle, the parliament building and the Company Gardens, all within a few blocks of each other. Some pictures for you of all of these. To the left, a Bird of Paradise flower found in the Company Garden, and me by a huge rubber tree. Below are the Parliament building and the Castle of Good Hope.

Maybe it’s just me but I think I have seen enough of the touristy side of things here….I want to get back to nature and tomorrow will not disappoint – Cape Peninsula tour, complete with penguins and seals. Those who read the Star Tribune may have seen pictures last week of African penguins being released back to their natural habitat…this is where we are going tomorrow!! A second batch was released just yesterday.

Some more fun food exploration for us: our choices tonight were Ostrich and Angel Fish! Both delicious! One thing we love is that the side vegetable is often butternut squash – yum! And if your salad was made from rockets, what would you guess that would be? Nobody could explain it to us other than “it’s like lettuce” – turns out it’s arugula. Who knew? (Well, google knew, that’s how I figured it out). We haven’t eaten it yet but there are always pickles on the breakfast buffet – even pickled onions. Marc ordered a pizza last night and asked for pepperoni and the menu said this was a new option. However, the bacon and avocado pizza seemed to be a regular choice.

Tuesday – we’re all here now!

2009-05-26T21:38:00.002+02:00

(Please note I posted Monday's blog today as well...see below).

On Monday evening we finally were all together! The last bunch of students arrived, everyone is here safe and sound. Luggage, however, for Jessica is in Minneapolis, London or Johannesburg (at least we hope as those are the airports she’s been to). Good old NWA…

Earlier in the evening Jessica, Emily T, Amanda, Matt, Marc and I went out for dinner at a place just down the block from Marc’s and my place called Hussar Grill. Best described as an Afrikaner-influenced place: big game on the menu, including zebra for the special! Nobody partook of Marty the Zebra (for those of you who know your Madagascar movies), but I had a chicken with chocolate chili sauce – yes, dark chocolate melted over chicken. Fantastic! (Those who have been here before will appreciate that we ate at Cubana the previous night.)

This morning Marc and I went for a run up the hill to the campus (mostly a trot upwards and a slide down) to greet a perfectly clear day…the first time we have seen the top of the mountain! It was simply gorgeous, and the view from the top of campus was simply spectacular. See, running has its merits.

After some orientation from our hosts Ouma and Nj, the student mentors assigned to the U of M students gave them a tour of campus before we headed off to the Victoria and Alfred waterfront for lunch and shopping. It was great to be together as a whole group for the first time; Marc was just commenting how much he enjoyed meeting our students and how bright and energetic they all are. We then went off to explore the waterfront, which can best be described as a series of big fancy malls with beautiful ocean views. This is a high-end tourist destination with lots of Gucci, Louis Vitton and the rest. Not that we shopped there… We did see some excellent street dancers and singers, but at one point I wondered out loud to Marc if we weren’t in DisneyWorld again – it seemed so staged. Yet these performers are indeed Africans, not Africans brought in to do African performing at Epcot’s re-created countries. The students decided to take a boat tour of the cape (tons of excursion boats waiting to take visitors out) and they chose the Jolly Roger – yes, a pirate ship replica, complete with eye-patched sailors and all (see their blogs for pics later). Marc and I shopped and did admire some great artwork, jewelry and fabrics but have decided to wait until we see what is in the market instead (both to find out about the authenticity and to buy directly from the maker, or maybe it’s just to be cheap?!).

2008 trip-goers will appreciate that your picture still hangs in the interstudy office, as does the stuffed Goldy Gopher. Sadly, we did not bring a U of M banner to add to their collection. You’ll also appreciate learning that my phone ran out of minutes today and I learned how to add them. Woohoo, small victories! Tomorrow brings Zwele’s lecture on South African history and a trip to the District Six Museum!

Monday: a day of contrasts

2009-05-26T19:12:00.001+02:00

We had a wonderful dinner last night with NJ and Matt. NJ’s story is interesting: he was born in the US to South African parents who were living in exile in New York as his father was a political activist. He grew up in New York until they returned to SA in 1995 after the first “free and fair” elections here. NJ says he defies all notions of what a black man from America should be: he is well-spoken, in his words “not ghetto.” His university degrees are in media (journalism & advertising), law and performing arts. His hope is to go to the US to act…probably New York or LA, but we’ve tried to convince him of the thriving Minneapolis arts scene. Perhaps his 11 new friends from Minnesota will be there to host him?!

So we began Monday with another nice breakfast (options of cold meats, hard boiled eggs, cheeses, fruit, yogurt, porridge and made to order eggs with bacon, fried tomatoes and mushrooms) and then we were off to see Edwin at the JL Zwane Community Center in Guguletu (pictured). Another test of my driving skills and Marc’s navigation skills…we found it with no problem (thank you for the directions, Jane!). Edwin met us, showed us the Center and we talked for a long time there about the needs of the community, and what I wish for us to see when the students come to stay. Edwin was so gracious and funny and demonstrates a dedication and heart for the community that was inspiring.

Edwin showed us around and I was so grateful to have a chance to see this with Marc, as I am sure I would not be able to describe it to him later. A few statistics Edwin gave us: of the 360,00 residents, 67% are unemployed and 60% are HIV positive. I will leave larger descriptions for when I return from Guguletu next week, but to get you started: we visited a school for children with physical disabilities, another primary school built out of a metal shipping container, a home where a woman takes care of 12 children in her two-bedroom home, another where the daughter is only allowed to live out back in a shack because she and her son are HIV positive. We saw a graveyard that goes on forever and it is now full. There are stories of despair but also glimmers of hope and certainly a feeling of welcoming and generosity. An example: as we peeked in on the kids in the Stormont school (pictured), they broke into song to greet us (they were not expecting us). As we left them, they all wanted to hold our hands and high-five us. Wow, that will stick with me forever.

The students who came here last year will be pleased to know that Edwin speaks of them with great pride and fondness, that they were the most mature and dedicated students he has met. And Aaron, he says, “Aaron is always welcome in my house. He is my brother.”

We returned to our car, and I took a deep breath, and cried a bit. I suspect this will not be the last time I cry.

And then we drove into wine country, to estates that were as old as the 1652, built by Dutch and English colonists. The country is gorgeous, colorful with fall, winding roads, wood fire smoke in the air. We had lunch outside, tasted a little wine, wandered the grounds. I had a Julie Andrews moment to make my mother proud, breaking into song: The hills are alive, with the sound of music...

And all this only about 30 minutes away from Guguletu. I think there are people who live in this part of the Western Cape who never see what we saw in the township. And we know from Edwin that there are people in the township who have never seen the ocean, also only minutes away from their home.

We feel extremely lucky to have seen both.

We are here!

2009-05-24T18:05:00.010+02:00

After 23 hours of travel (Marc says 26 if you count the time we left our house), we made it to Cape Town without a single glitch. Flights were smooth, we slept a bit on the way to Amsterdam, and had a great seats right behind business class (which means: leg room!). Nice breakfast in sunny Amsterdam, and soon on our way to Cape Town, which is an 11 hour flight. We attempted to stay awake on that flight, and we did so with the help of a few movies (Benjamin Button - we both highly recommend).

We were met by Shafeik at the very quiet Cape Town airport. Shafeik runs a shuttle service and will be driving with our group most of the trip. He says hello to those from last year (who he said he had a lot of fun with but "they all cried on the last day"), and a special hi to you, Aaron. He says, "Yes, I know Aaron, the skinny guy." Found our rooms at Little Scotia guesthouse - very nice and quiet here, very close to the University of Cape Town campus.

We slept well, had a lovely breakfast provided by Little Scotia and then rode with Shafeik and Nj (short for a much more complex name, you say it simply "N J" like they are initials), who is one of our hosts, back to the airport to get Matt and to pick up our rental car. Let the driving adventure begin...not only is the driver on the right side of the car, with a manual stick on your lefthand side, then the turn indicator and wipers are reversed so every time I went to signal a turn, I gave the windshield a nice clearing. Oh, and did I mention we the drive on the left side of the road??

After dropping Matt at the house the students are staying in (nice place!) we headed out to explore the UCT campus and our neighborhood of Rondebosch. We also got to meet Ouma, our other host from interstudy.

Weather was lovely this morning with some sun, and although it is about 64 degrees we were chilled - it always feels damp. Clouds - wispy ones, no big cumulus ones like in the midwest - cover the mountain most of the time, but somtimes there was only the "table cloth" on Table Mountain.

After lunch and conversation with Nj at Cafe Sofia (that's for you, Sopha-bopha!), where I learned a Diet Coke is called Coke Light, we drove some rather winding roads to get to Lion's Head, one of the distinct peaks in the mountain range. We hiked around it, with gorgeous views of the city of Cape Town as well as Camps Bay and the "Twelve Apostles." (pictured above). Lion's Head is pictured left. Sophia and Ingrid asked a while ago if it is possible to touch a cloud. Our new answer is Yes! And we have done it. See those clouds around Lion's Head? They swirl around it, and sometimes swirled around us. They come up from the ocean!

We are heading out for dinner with Matt and Nj in a bit. The rest of the students arrive tomorrow, and on Tuesday our course begins. Marc and I hope to venture into Guguletu tomorrow to meet Edwin at the JL Zwane community center, our host for week 2. We haven't decided what to do tomorrow but he's hoping to go find a vineyard since he'll be back in the states when our group takes two tours on June 6. Marc is very impressed with my driving skills and I with his navigating skills...thank goodness it was Sunday and traffic was light! More tomorrow!!

How it is possible to leave my girls...

2009-05-20T16:44:00.006+02:00

When I was asked to take on this trip to South Africa my first reaction was, "No way, I can't leave my girls for three weeks." After Marc and I talked it over (I think his words were, "Are you crazy?! This is Africa we're talking about!!") we decided it was more important that we show them that we are a family that takes (reasonable) risks, does exciting things and makes the most of the opportunities presented to us.

When I presented this trip to the girls, Ingrid - our map-loving, atlas-reading, but immunization-fearing world citizen - asked only, "How many shots do you have to get?" When I told her how many she shrugged off any idea of going with me and said, "Cool, will you bring me a penguin from Monkeybiz?" Monkeybiz makes beaded animals that are just beautiful (available in the Twin Cities at Bibelot stores!). The Monkeybiz story is more complex than this and I'll tell it to you after we go there, but I was just impressed that she remembered that I bought a Monkeybiz animal for my colleague (and founder of this study abroad program) Aaron and one for Marc last year.

Sophia - our soccer-loving, snuggle-buddy Mommy's Girl - said, "I am going to be lonely for you, Ma-ma." (And I just about canceled right there.) But then she asked if I could bring her a baby elephant. I told her I sure would bring her an elephant from Monkeybiz and she responded, "No, a real one. For a pet." It took some explaining but now she's settled on a beaded elephant.

However, as departure approaches their excitement has grown beyond what they will get out of the trip. Last night as I put Sophia to bed, I asked her as I always do what she was most thankful for. She said, "That you are going to Africa to bring those clothes to the kids and the mamas there." As I put Ingrid to bed I asked her what the best part of her day was, and she answered, "Helping you pack up those clothes for the kids in South Africa."

Wow. I know I was not this wise or big-hearted when I was in elementary school. Not sure if I am now.

So thank you all for your donations. They've been gifts on this side of the ocean too.

Packing for more than 3 weeks

2009-05-19T21:33:00.006+02:00

Here it is, my first attempt at being a blogger...

As you know I am leaving on Friday, May 22 for a three week trip to Cape Town, South Africa, escorting a phenomenal group of students from the University of Minnesota to study aspects of leadership in the township of Guguletu. We will spend the first week learning about apartheid and the modern history of the country and seeing the sites of Cape Town (and my husband Marc will be along for this part of the trip!). We then a week in the township learning about the hardships of poverty and HIV/AIDS, as well as the work of community to overcome these issues. Our final week is spent back at the University of Cape Town, trying to make sense of the leadership lessons and emotions we will experience. More on that in future posts as I get closer to the departure date. But for now, let's talk about packing!

Because we are guests in the homes of community members in Guguletu, we are all bringing things to donate to the JL Zwane community center, which serves as church and gathering post for the township. In my case I put out a call to my friends for used children's clothing and I cannot believe the outpouring! I took a picture of what I have to date and I told people I'd accept things up to Wednesday. Looks like I may need more than one extra suitcase! I am happy to tote it along!

I am also taking $60 that Ingrid & Sophia (my daughters, ages 9 & 6 1/2) have donated from the proceeds of their recent garage sale. They want me to purchase school supplies for the kids in Guguletu! I love that they've learned this lesson of giving so early in life. They make us very proud and I am not sure I will be able to stand being away from them for so long.

Thanks for checking out my first blog...more to come, more to come...