Last one for a while

I know that there aren't very many people who are still checking this to see if I've written anything lately, but I wanted to put this post up because I think it is a much better wrap up than my other posts, and also because these thoughts just don't come out in normal conversation and I'm tired of trying to make them. And if just one person understands a bit more about what I experienced/learned and why I am still completely uncomfortable being home, then that is one more person that I dont need to feel completely insane and unstable around.

We were required to write up a final paper after we got home that was divided into two parts: the first is a summary of a few questions we got to think about on the plane ride home. The questions were meant to help us come to some solid conclusions about what we learned and help us to wrap up (at least a little bit) all of the jumbled thoughts we had floating around in our heads. The second part was for us to tell a short story about an event dealing with the townships that had a significant impact on us. This part definately helped me to figure out how to describe even just a fraction of the heavy emotion that all of us felt in the townships.


So here it is:

1:
To explain in seven pages the impact which my experience in South Africa had on me would be impossible. To list everything I learned would be equally impossible- not simply because of page limits, but also because I am still processing and developing the outcome of this trip. To say that I am going through a transformation would be an understatement. This trip changed me. It allowed me to learn incredible amounts about myself, another culture and about leadership. It not only taught me about the past and present of myself and others, but reaffirmed where I want to take my future as well. This amazing experience became, and will continue to be, a driving force in who I am and who I will become.

The best and most memorable part of the trip for me was our week in Gugulethu; I fell completely in love with these people and their culture. Something that clearly stuck out to me about them was their pride- pride for their history, who they are, what they have worked for, to be African. I gained a great sense of admiration for everyone we met in their ability to hold their heads high with pride even after the horrors of Apartheid took nearly everything else from them. It is not a boastful or hateful pride, but is much more noble than that. It is a pride which can be seen in their eyes and invokes a great sense of respect. My host mother, Noxie, asked me one night what I noticed about the people in Gugulethu. When I told her this, she got a smile on her face and nodded her head saying, “Yes, it’s true…we are.”

Less visible than pride, but even more present among the people of Gugulethu is ubuntu. From the second I walked into the JL Zwane Center and met my host mother that Sunday, I felt it. It was as though I was seeing a family member for the first time- I did not know her but there was so much love in the hug she gave to Stella and me, I felt like family. This was incredible to me because I grew up in a culture which teaches to suspect the character of strangers, yet here I was with this woman opening her home and heart to me without a single hint of misgiving across her face.

This wasn’t the only time any of us were shown ubuntu. The community at JL Zwane Center went out of their way to make sure we were comfortable, safe and welcome. Every night at our get-togethers, we were invited into our host families’ lives; all of us wanted to share a part of ourselves with each other. Everyone we stayed with has a job, yet they managed to find the time to cook incredible feasts for us every night. Even if one of our host parents had to stay late at work, they still made the effort to spend time with all of us, genuinely happy to be there regardless of how tired they were.

Ubuntu was not only shown to us, but is constantly present in the manner in which members of the community treat each other. When they speak to one other, they truly have interest in what the other person is saying. They honestly want to know how one is doing and if someone is in need, there is no hesitation to lend them a hand. Less than an hour into our first time at the center before church, the strong bond between these people was clear and obvious; I soon realized that the concept of family extends far beyond the boundaries of blood relatives. During our time in Gugulethu, the JL Zwane community taught me the beautiful meaning of ubuntu: to truly live your life for others by giving your all and loving them more than yourself.
The leadership we experienced ties in with the close-knit culture of Gugulethu. An aspect that I really liked was the personal feeling between a leader and those they work with as opposed to the more “professional,” business-like relations that are often built in our own culture. I noticed that relationships in the Gugulethu leadership sector are much more deeply rooted than simple transactions and business plans. It reminds me a lot of our own leadership that was occurring during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. Dr. Reverend Spiwo said to us, “Some say that if you walk with dwarves, you will be a dwarf; if you walk with giants, you will be a giant. But leadership is making giants out of dwarves, and you can't do that unless you walk with dwarves."

This resonated significantly with me because it reminded me of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and how he knew his people. He didn’t know the personal stories of each individual person, but he knew them- he knew their struggle and their past, and he also knew a vision for their future because he walked with them. For a leader to “walk” with a group of people is to build a very personal connection because that leader experiences their hardships and triumphs alongside of them and incorporates that group into part of their personal identity. I saw this type of connection every time we met a leader and learned of the work they do. I believe this aspect of leadership is integral to progress in South Africa’s townships because it inspires the leaders to have passion and courage to overcome the countless obstacles they face.

For anyone who experiences a township like Gugulethu, it becomes apparent that the road to positive progress is long and rough, necessitating a strong sense of courage and passion from each and every leader. Dr. Spiwo Xapile gave us great examples to explain this need. In a place where extreme poverty is the norm, success- in whatever form it may be- is viewed with suspicion by many people and can even lead to the point of danger as others become jealous of that success. To literally put their life in jeopardy in the name of success is a scary experience for anyone and often times, someone will not have courage enough to stand in the face of this danger. It also takes courage to oppose authorities who are blocking the way to progress.
Countless times, the Church refused Dr. Spiwo’s requests to undertake a project in the community. Instead of giving up in defeat, he had the courage to adopt a principle which he explained as, “I’d rather ask for forgiveness than ask for permission for something that will never be granted.” The Church was wrong to believe that investment in the community would not lead to any significant progress and the Reverend had the courage to stand up to his authorities to prove them wrong.

Alongside courage, I truly believe that no progress would be possible in the townships without the passion I saw within their leaders. The situation there is too difficult. The JL Zwane Center as it is today was a dream which took over a decade to become a reality. Through learning the history of the center, it became clear that this was no easy feat. Countless obstacles had to be overcome and had it not been for the passion to see a vision through, the community center would not be in Gugulethu as it is now. Passion here it what drives the perseverance to face immense challenges and stick with a dream until the end.

Without passion, it would be impossible for a leader to continue on day to day while experiencing the heartbreaking conditions in the townships. If it weren’t for passion, it would be easier for one to turn their back rather than look into the eyes of a child dying of AIDS. It would be easier to drive along the highway and put blinders up instead of notice thousands of makeshift shanties leaking in the winter rain. The emotion felt while experiencing these sights is heavy; passion is what outweighs the urge to turn a blind eye to them and return to a comfortable life.

Throughout my entire time in South Africa, from Gugulethu to Cape Town to the excursions, I learned a lot about myself. I learned that my heart can hold much more emotion than I ever thought it could. While I am generally someone who is very good at handling and dealing with my feelings, I felt emotions there that I never knew existed; emotions that I still cannot figure out or describe. To my surprise, I didn’t explode. I’m glad too, that I felt (and continue to feel) those things. As uncomfortable as it is, I feel more human for it. It feels good to know that my emotional range extends further than the usual happy-sad-angry-confused spectrum and that I can care for a complete stranger far more deeply than I ever imagined. Since we returned, I have been wondering if the people we met realize how much of an impression they made on me. I wonder if they know I learned a completely different meaning of love because of them.

I learned that I am able to let go of many cares and just live in the moment. I didn’t simply exist during this trip, I lived it. Even to just not care what time it is was a significant step for me because it allowed me to just let go and enjoy the moment as it was. I did not even care how cold and wet I was at Cape Point and I really did not care if I got sick from it later because at that moment, I was at the most beautiful spot I could possibly be at in that place in time. Out shark diving, I drank so much chummed-filled ocean water and smacked my head on the cage more times than I can count, but I could not care one bit because I was living out my dream. Even all the times our group had to wait around with nothing to do, I could not get the least bit annoyed because, darn it, we were in South Africa! I realized life is so much more relaxing when I am able to let go of all the little cares and annoyances to just enjoy and hold onto the good things in that moment.

I rediscovered my passion for people. Living as I do- completing school and working in an area where it is easy to let petty things control my life- I allow myself to forget this passion. I forget my belief that relationships and experiences are far more valuable and important than material comforts and traditional middleclass American successes. I’m guilty of putting my passion on a waiting list right behind “finishing school” and “paying bills”; I do this and wonder why I’m not satisfied. I’m not satisfied because my passion is what truly makes me happy; helping people makes me happy, as cliché as it sounds. I like to make someone smile who otherwise may not have found a reason to. My time in South Africa reminded me of this and, thankfully, made me feel guilty for ever forgetting it.

There was one instance that really made me stop and think: when Zetu Xapile spoke to us about the clinics’ work in fighting HIV/AIDS, she briefly mentioned counseling services that are offered to those who test positive for the virus. Before this moment, it had never occurred to me that I never thought of South Africans receiving counseling. It is not as though I thought that they would not receive it, but I guess I never included that aspect in my perceptions of township life- it was just completely absent from my thoughts. Why did this happen? Why was there some subconscious barrier in my mind that separated the needs of Americans from non-Americans? I know that if I were to contract HIV I would be in need of counseling, so why would they not be? Why would I conceptualize these people as different from myself? It was one of those “aha” moments that actually made me very curious to find out which other subconscious beliefs I am holding that I am unaware of.

The whole trip culminated in the reaffirmation of the desire I have for my future. The further I get along in life, the more I realize I would not be happy in any other job than one in the public service sector. The work being done in Gugulethu that we learned of is the direction I want to go. Before this experience, I knew something along the lines of what I want to do but it was very foggy and ill-defined. Now that I have seen it- working grassroots, face-to-face with marginalized people- I feel like I finally had a glimpse of the future I have been trying to point myself toward. Wherever I end up in the world, be it South Africa, Thailand, etc., I know that it will be someplace where the people are “different” than me. I realized that I’m comfortable and excited to be somewhere unfamiliar because I love differences and I love culture and I love learning about it all.

I have no doubt that my experience in South Africa will continue to change my life. I am not comfortable being back home, and in a way I do not want to be. If I were comfortable it would mean that this trip did not have the impact on me that it should have. I do not want to ever forget the people I met and the experiences I had, but it is a great comfort to know that this trip was so incredible and amazing that I know I will never forget.

I do not know what impression I had on those who I met during those three weeks, but I can say with great certainty that they impacted me far beyond anything I ever expected. A couple times over the last week, I looked back at who I was before South Africa. A lot seems the same: same job, same love of macaroni and cheese and grilled cheese sandwiches, same job, same dislike of doing laundry… But there is something fundamentally different now; South Africa left lasting marks in my mind and heart, and it is strange to step back into someone’s life after this change.

2:
I was so excited to bring rain jackets. Each of us was asked to bring a suitcase of donations as a way to show appreciation to the JL Zwane Community Center for spending time with us. I practically ran over to the clothing racks when I saw that the store was having a half-off sale on kids’ raingear; it was like Christmas shopping, except far more exciting. I stood in front of those jackets for a good forty five minutes, constantly thinking of our instructor, Aaron’s, words,
“It’ll be winter in Cape Town, so it will be cold and windy. You really should bring a rain jacket because umbrellas are completely useless.”

If the kids in Gugulethu, I thought, didn’t have enough money to buy basic school supplies, it would be a far stretch to guess that they had rain jackets either. If I was able to help even just a handful of kids stay dry and warm on a rainy day, well, then that would be one less thing they would need to worry about. The prospect of this kept me stationed in front of those jackets, checking all the liners and reading the tags to make sure they weren’t the equivalent of garbage bag ponchos. I walked out of the store a great deal later with twenty-some rain jackets, absolutely ecstatic.

I was no less excited in Gugulethu the day Yvonne, Director of Ministries at JL Zwane, told us that we were going out to deliver some of the donations we brought from home. All of us piled into the vans and made our way through the township, blaring R. Kelly’s World’s Greatest and 3 Way Phone Call on the speakers. We arrived at a group of town homes that were positioned to create a large open circle; a sort of courtyard. The entire area was filled with pieces of wood, metal and broken furniture. Old worn-out cars were parked throughout the courtyard, only a few of which appeared to be in working condition. The dirt ground was littered everywhere with bits of trash and scraps of debris. Nails and pieces of metal were lying in the same area where people walk everyday and dozens of muddy puddles were left over from the last rain. Every now and then, the strong stench of wet rotten food and garbage would drift by.

As soon as we arrived, a dozen kids ran up to check us out. A few showed off their top spinning skills and others ran around, getting their pictures taken and looking at their faces on the digital camera screen. As I watched the kids I looked down and noticed that some weren’t wearing shoes, they were running through this place barefoot and I wondered how often one of them was cut by a shard of metal or stepped on a nail. None of them at that moment seemed to care, though, they just wanted to play.

While one of the boys was demonstrating how to spin a top, Aaron came over to tell me that Yvonne was giving a family some of the rain jackets. Oh boy, was I excited! I didn’t know that rain jackets were what were to be given out that day, so I was surprised and I could not wait. I went inside the house to meet the family. The atmosphere completely changed as I stepped over the threshold from outside to in. The boys outside were playful and energetic, but this room felt worn out. Not very much sunlight made it inside, making the small room seem even smaller and there was a heaviness in the air that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

The woman we met was introduced as the aunt of the two little boys living here and although she smiled, she seemed tired. It didn’t take long to find out why the woman would be so exhausted. We were told that the two boys lived with her because their parents had both died of AIDS. I nodded my head, not knowing what to say and instead turned my attention back to the little boys who were now wearing a couple of rain jackets. They were young, no older than nine and five. The older boy had some of the biggest and brightest eyes I’ve ever seen and his brother was so shy and sweet.

I took their picture together and asked them their names but forgot what they were five minutes later… I wish I could remember them now. Aaron was standing next to me and as we looked around the room, he leaned over and said,

“The little one is HIV positive.”

I can’t even say that my heart stopped when he told me this because the instant I heard those words come out of his mouth, I shut everything down. My heart was on the verge of breaking worse than it ever had before and I selfishly couldn’t let myself feel it, so I went numb.
But nothing in the world could take that hollow feeling out of my stomach- the feeling that came from knowing that something irreversible had happened to this baby boy and that it would eventually kill him. The most revolting feeling came from being able to look at this boy and know that he was going to die; who am I to be able to know something like that? I felt like I had walked in on one of God’s little secrets and I wanted to give it back because I didn’t want to know.

Then I looked at the older boy. How would it feel to have to say goodbye to your little brother? I thought of my own and knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. Love isn’t different anywhere in the world and I can’t imagine that it is any easier to bury a child in South Africa than it is back home. Why do these people have to live with this? They don’t deserve it. I couldn’t get it straight in my head, and I don’t know if I ever will. As happy as I was that my rain jackets got delivered, I couldn’t help but think that even though the jacket will keep him dry and warm, it won’t keep him alive.

Going Back to Campus

I feel weird. I can't describe what it is because I dont know. I know that it's an uneasy feeling that has something to do with being lonely for everyone in SA and my roommates. But it's more than that.
I'm sitting here and watching a Bowflex commercial. Besides the level of ridiculousness that this commercial far exceeds, I just feel upset with the amount of frivolous things surrounding me as I'm back in the U.S. And I'm guilty of it too.. when I go back to my place tonight, I'll be back to my nice TV, a couple computers, more dvds than I can count and more clothes than I even want to wear. Doesn't matter if I bought them with my own money that I earned. It's too much, and what does it really do for me? Not a whole lot, that's what.
I don't want to hear about certain things anymore. I don't want to hear about how much money you make or how many cars you own. I dont want to hear about whatever diet you are on that's working so well. I dont want to hear about those tiny little inconveniences that made your day 'so terrible.' And I definately don't want to hear about how much money you had to pay to fill the tank on your SUV. On and on. My level of interest to these topics was pretty low before I left, and it's only gotten exponentially lower over the last 3 weeks.

But beyond this, I'm nervous to go back to campus. I stayed at my moms yesterday and today and she's been amazing, just like I knew she would. But talking to some friends, I know that not a lot of them read this blog. They have even less of a clue how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking than those of you who are reading this now. How do I explain to them why I don't want to do a certain thing or why I dont want them to crack a certain joke around me or why I fundamentally disagree with their opinion? I have a lot of friends who I know are a lot less willing to deal with my changes than my family is. They wont understand and I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are unwilling to take the time to understand. I think coming home will hit me 50 times harder when I'm back on campus and have to explain my actions to the people who expect me to come back to them the same person I left as.

The End?

I've really been procrastinating to write this so-called wrap up entry for two reasons:
1- I can't find the words (yet again) to describe anything, the sights, sounds, feelings.. There is a question in our class journal that askes something like, "How will you describe this trip when you get home?" I have no idea.
And 2- writing this entry forces me to admit to myself that I'm home. Once and a while it hits me and I cry or get a really sick feeling in my stomach, from knowing that I'm gone and I can't simply jump in my car and drive 20 minutes to go visit this place and the people that now possess a huge part of my heart.


I miss the crazy driving, I miss ubuntu, I miss palm trees, I miss Marcel's frozen yogurt, I miss sharing a house with 10 other people, I miss Gugulethu, I miss Long St, I miss Noxie, I miss the food.. I miss everything.
I think it's funny that I feel a little uncomfortable being surrounded by a lot of white people now. I'm not used to it.. my comfort zone has definately done a complete 180, not just with this, but a lot of things. I learned how to let go of everything and just live in the moment and I learned that I can live with a lot less comforts than I ever thought I could.. and it's a lot more relaxing, I like it. Yesterday I watched a little bit of golf with my stepdad and that was the most tv I watched in the last month.
Edwin told us during our last night at the homestays that we took up a large part of their hearts and that we were going to leave a big hole when we left. It is the same for all of the students as well. I'm not the same person I was when I left the US and I'm missing a big part of my heart. I feel like the only thing to fill that hole that would do my South African family justice would be to give back to my community just like they have been doing and to bring back the ubuntu that we were shown. Nothing else would quite be worth the space they have taken.


So what happened the last few days? The perfect ending to the best time of my life.

We did get a chance to go to the Holocaust Museum and I am so glad we did. There is a large population of Holocaust survivors in South Africa, which is the reason they have a museum there. Along with all the facts that were presented, the place had a very personal touch to it because it told the stories of individuals- names, photos and personal letters and diaries were all over the place and it was hard to forget that the Holocaust happened to human beings rather than just faceless people. I liked that there was a little tie-in to Apartheid because it makes you think of the questions "have we learned anything at all? how easy is it to allow a group to be dehumanized? and when is it ever going to stop?"

We went out a restaurant called Mama Africa that night. I didn't like my food all that much, but the restaurant was great and the live band was great to listen to! We had our last class Thursday morning where we wrapped things up and talked about leadership things. We all got 17 notecards and wrote warm fuzzies to each person. I read mine on the airplane and they made me smile. I'm so happy that I got to go on this trip with these people, they are all amazing!

Thursday night, we had a braai at our place (South African bbq). Edwin and Noxie came, along with everyone from Interstudy and our new buddy Allen. We ate a ton of food and talked, and later we gave photos of the group to the JL Zwane Center and Interstudy to say thank you for all the work they did with us. Aaron gave a little speech to thank everyone, including us students, and we each got a chance to say thanks and it all got pretty emotional.

After our guests left, we busted out some drinks for TJ's 21st birthday! We had bottles and cans stored up in the fridge and were leaving for the US the next afternoon, so obviously they needed to get drank. We went out to Long Street to a club called Velvet for a while until it got so hot in there that some people left and went to the Purple Turtle. We ended up splitting into a couple different groups so I have no clue where everyone went, but I went with Allen and Siviwe and they were so nice to take me over to Joburgs! I'm one of the only people in our group that likes Joburgs so I was super excited to go there one last time before we left. We went to another club before we had to go home as well.. I looove Joburgs and the last club because they were so much more local than the rest of the places we went to, so I thought they were a lot more fun! So we got home around 3:30 or 4 and went to sleep to get up a few hours later to get ready to leave. It was such a great night, I can't even say. I guess I didn't put a ton of details in here, but it was just a great night on the town with people I'll never forget!

And last but not least, on Tattoo Tuesday I got my tattoo!

I got it to tie together a part of who I am that is very important to me with my experience here and what these amazing people have shown me.

It says 'ithemba' and means 'hope' in Xhosa. During an unfortunate time in my past the only thing I had to get me up in the morning and do what I needed to do, besides my mom and my brother, was the hope that things would be better. Ever since then, the idea of hope has been inseperable from my identity and outlook for the future. One of the most beautiful things to me is finding a tiny little diamond in the rough, to be too cliche. This is one of the reasons I came to South Africa and why I am going to India this January. To be in a place with such a dire situation and witness that glimmer of hope that a better future can be created is amazing to me. The people here have shown me that, I looked around and I saw the hope they have for the future of their people. While I was in South Africa, I saw the importance of hope, and I saw it in many peoples' eyes.. it is something I will never forget. The font is from pieces of art at the JL Zwane Center and the fact that the letters are jagged and different sizes is perfect for me, because life isn't perfect but it's beautiful. That is why I have my tattoo, it is my connection.

So with that said, I had the time of my life. The most incredible three weeks I've ever experienced and I owe it all to the people who were around me. Everyone. South African, American, black, colored, white, rich, poor... No one will ever be forgotten and I am eternally grateful for everyone I met. Coming home is hard and it will be more difficult than I ever imagined to get back into life here, but in return for my indescribable time in South Africa, I'd be willing to pay that price a million times over.

Just a Quick Note

For those of you checking up on me, we are leaving for the airport in less than half an hour. I should be home Saturday afternoon sometime.

Keep reading here because I have another entry to write about my last few days here- days that have been incredible

I'm Having Trouble Titling This One

I don't really have a whole lot to write about. We're back to doing the touristy things, and most of it really doesnt feel as good and fun as it did the first week we were here. I'm tired of spending money. I'd much rather sit down with a stranger and hear them talk about themselves and their story than drop another 40 Rand on a wooden carving. I had a little conversation with an artist at Green Market Square, but in the end all really is all about is them wanting to sell you something.

Hopefully we'll make it to the Holocaust Museum tomorrow, since Table Mountain will be closed for bad weather. I'm disappointed that we wont have time to go to the top of the mountain because I've heard that it's absolutely beautiful. It's funny that it's so close to us and we never went. I really want to see the Museum, though, because it's an important part of South Africa's history that many people never really consider.

We did walk through St. George Gardens today (I'm not sure if that's what it's called, but that's what you get) on our way to check out the Holocaust Museum (which was closed for a Jewish holiday). They were reaaaally pretty but involved far too many pidgeons for my taste, nasty little creatures. And squirrels that would charge at you until you throw crackers to them. Gross. But the plants and fountains were gorgeous!

Walking through, I wondered what all the old buildings used to be. They looked like colonial government thing. This question probably would have been answered had I read my tour guide book that I absolutely had to have before I left for this trip.

Yesterday, some of us went to a shop called MonkeyBiz. It's a non-profit that sells the beaded crafts made by women of the townships. The women recieve the proceeds from the sales. MonkeyBiz also runs a once-a-week clinic, support group and food service for its women who are HIV positive. It's a great place, I really wish I would have taken pictures of the inside. One woman there told me all about what they do and took me upstairs to show me where they hold the support group and clinic. There is a wall there that displays tons of pictures of the women of the group.. there had to be at least 50 pictures on there. She walked over to an enormous and pointed it out. I couldn't tell what it was, but when I got in front of it I realized that it was a 4x3ft beaded picture of a woman and her child:

Those are all tiny beads. The woman told me it took 2 weeks to make it. On the bottom it said, "You can change the world if you have a heart without fears, a mind without walls and a dream big enough to share -Ashley"

MonkeyBiz has a website.. you should check it out. Apparently you can order from their catalogue. Even if you don't want to order anything, look at it anyway because their products are really incredible http://www.monkeybiz.co.za/

I'm not sure if I meantioned this before, but we had the opportunity to get a mini-show from a group called Siyaya from the JL Zwane Community Center who sing to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS. They are in the United States right now and have a show this June 29 in Minneapolis. I highly recommend trying to get tickets for this show, trust me-they are amazing. We only saw a snippet of their performance last week.. I guarentee their full-length show with costumes has to be a hundred times more incredible. I know you would not be disappointed in going. Here's a link for you: http://www.thecedar.org/open_arms_presents_siyaya

Guilt-Inducing Juxtaposition

Over the last week, I've found myself becoming a lot less talkative and I know it's because of our time in Gugs. I can't get it straightened out in my head yet and it's uncomfortable. And it's messy, and still a little surreal.
I know when I get home, I'm gonna need a lot of time by myself to lay out in the grass, stare at some clouds and think.

We went on a wine tasting tour on saturday. I'll be honest- as much as I enjoyed everything and appreciate the industry's importance in South Africa, I hated it. Why am I swishing wine around in my mouth and dumping it out if I dont like the taste when just the other day I was playing with kids who live in shacks and struggle to get enough food? Don't get me wrong, the vineyards were amazingly gorgeous and I'm a firm believer in appreciating the good things you have in life. But this felt wrong to me, it really did. With everything I liked about that day, there was an equal (if not stronger) sense of guilt and wanting to go back to Gugulethu and make sandwiches for Pricilla's kids again.

On the way home we passed by Khayelitsha, which is the second largest township in South Africa. Over a million people live there, most of them in shacks. The HIV/AIDS rate here is absolutely unbelieveable: at least 25%. Go grab four of your friends, pull one of them away and say goodbye forever because it's a reality that AIDS will kill them. Go ahead and make one of your four friends a child too, because that is what these people face. 25% of the people here are HIV positive, and it doesn't discriminate against age.
When we first drove up next to Khayelitsha on the highway, our tour guide pointed to the shacks and said "this goes on for 10 kilometers." I didn't believe him, he seems like an over-exaggerator and I thought he was just being dramatic. No, he was serious. 5 minutes later (driving at highway speeds, mind you) we were still driving along side of shacks. Then something happened that I will never forget: I looked out the opposite side of the van for no more than two minutes and then looked back toward Khayelitsha, thinking I'd see shacks again. What I saw made my stomach twist: I saw nice houses. Walking distance from these nice big houses are the township shacks, it was like blinking my eyes and seeing a mouse turn into an elephant; poverty to excess. The stark difference between these two areas brought me a horrible feeling. I realized that we were on our way back to Mowbray in the foothills of Table Mountain and within 10 minutes I was going to be in one of those nice houses. I felt so disgusting. I have too much when millions of people don't have enough.

I am nervous to come home to face my excess and everyone else's, too. I am nervous to come home so changed that my friends and family don't get me anymore. I'm nervous to explain my experiences to people when I still can't get them straight in my own head. I'm scared that I will never make it back to South Africa to see my new family ever again.

But I will figure out how to deal with these things because it is important that I tell my experiences and if I truely want to come back here, I know I will find a way to do it.


On a different note.. I went shark diving today!! God bless seasickness patches, worked like a charm. Not everyone on the boat was as lucky as me. Well, what we did was get picked up by the skark diving company at 6am and took a 1.5 or so hour drive over to Gansbaai Harbor. They gave us a little breakfast and then we had a little safety talk and got on the boat. The ride out to Shark Alley was frickin sweet! The swells were HUUUUUUGE, it was like riding a rollercoaster and it was 200x's cooler to stand up for the ride. You could see the waves coming at the boat and it was just watching these emmense masses of water surging toward you. After 45 minutes, we got to Shark Alley (by Dyer Island) and put the anchor and cage out and they started chumming the water. This is where I was sooo happy that I wasn't getting seasick because that smell wouldve put me over the edge. It took a long time for a shark to come around, but all of a sudden, this massive great white shark came sliding in next to the boat! That thing was huge.

So the first group of 6 people got their wetsuits and goggles on and went into the cage and the crew would yell things out like "divers down! to the right! it's a big one! Oh its a big one!" when they yelled out 'down' you had to take a deep breath and pull yourself underwater. You would stay down as long as you could and watch the shark swim RIGHT by the cage. Laurie, Nichole and I were in the third group that went in. It felt so nice to be in the water because it was a lot warmer with the wetsuits on than it was on deck. It was actually really hard to keep control while we were in the cage because the current was so strong that it would pull our legs out and our feet would sometimes get pulled out of the cage toward where the shark was swimming! It only took a couple times of that happening to figure out how to make your legs stay down. Then sometimes a big wave would come in and smack your head up against the top of the cage if you weren't careful. We all got a big drink of chummed up salt water today.

But all these things didnt even matter when we heard the crew yelling "down!!" HOLY CRAP those sharks are huuuuuuuge! Underwater, it was a little green and murky and then this massive shark would just come gliding on past less than 2 feet from the cage! There was one shark that swam by us and started to head back out to the ocean but turned around and swam straight at the cage! It was down at our feet and I remember just looking down, my eyes the size of dinner plates, seeing this massive grey shark head 2 inches away from our feet! He bumped the cage a little bit and then turned around and swam off for a bit. Oh wow. I don't even know, it was crazy.

There were a lot of groups that went in and when some of my roommates were in the cage, there was a really aggressive shark that really wanted the bait tuna. He was fighting for it and was splashing up on the surface of the water and then eventually he went right at the cage and bit the corner of it and shook at it!! Sarah and Kate were screaming and when the shark swam away, the only words coming out of those two and TJ were "holy shit, holy shit! that was so scary!" It was sooo awesome to see it up from on deck too. We ended up getting a dvd of the day, so I cant wait to watch through the whole thing! Oh and on the way home, we saw a mother and baby Right Whales. They weren't supposed to be there, but I guess the whales were showing up two weeks early..so we got lucky! We could only see them from a distance, but they were still awesome and gorgeous and huge!

I've wanted to shark dive FOREVER and I finally did! I saw sharks today and swam with them! Great white sharks! God, it was incredible

Impossible to Leave Unchanged -- Friday

I am not very good at expressing my thoughts and feelings, especially when as I write this, I know that people who I don't know very well will be seeing them. But I need to tell this, for many reasons.

Up until now, I've just been writing a play-by-play of my trip. Now, I feel like I'm ready to share some deeper things.

First off, I don't want to come home to the states. I don't even want to go back to Mowbray and UCT for the last week of class. I just want to stay with the JL Zwane center and Gugulethu (which, I never mentioned, means "our pride" in Xhosa) because this place and everyone here has an eternal spot in my heart and I dont want to say goodbye.

I have a new family. My Gugulethu momma's name is Noxie (short for Noxolo for those of us who cant click the X). I shared with the group last night my gratitude toward Noxie and something I will never forget: she looked at me and Stella and asked, "Are you happy in your home? This is your home." I never once felt like a guest (which would have been just fine, it was all I was expecting) but instead I felt like I belonged there and that it truely was given to me as my home. We were here for only three days and I've gained a huge new family with all the hosts that took care of our group. None of us know each other's entire life story but there is a bond here that surpasses all of that. I'll never forget the love of these people, and I've been praying to God that he'll bring me back here to see them again. They have a word, 'ubuntu,' which has a much deeper meaning than can be put into English, but basically means that their purpose is to live for others and to love them. I can say that every single one of us learned the meaning of ubuntu this week, and I hope that we bring it back home and live by it.

Every night here, we all got together for potluck style dinner, talked and tried to learn the chicken dance and how to do the Xhosa clicks while our host families laughed at us. To be honest, I was nervous to sleep in a township. I heard about all the crime and wasnt sure how safe the houses were. I wasnt scared by any means, but I was nervous and was hoping that it would all go alright. After the first night, though, all my nerves were put to rest and I realized that we would be just fine. Everyone made us incredible food for dinner and lunches and made sure that we were never hungry. Last night, our last night there, was even bigger than usual so my momma went all out and got a pig head! Nate, Aaron and I tried the eyeball (in my opinion, tastes like a hardboiled egg) and Aaron was pretty grossed out by the whole experience! He didn't want to eat any meat today.

So if our families and everyone at the community center showed us the happy side of the township, our lectures and excursions showed us the sad side. There are some lecturers that I want to talk about. The first one is Nombeko Mpongo. She is the Health Information Officer for the City of Cape Town. She contracted HIV in the 1990s when she was gang raped in an area that she pointed to through the windows of the community center. Her outlook on life is incredible, to say the least. She doesn't care what anyone has to think about her. She believes that no matter what happens to you in life, you always have to take responsibility for how you react to it and create your own life. She said, "It is your choice to live or die with AIDS." I know a lot of people, including myself, that have a lot to learn from her.

We learned about health clinics from our speaker, Zetu. Her discussion was very interesting, but the main points I took were:

1. If the government had responded to the HIV/AIDS issue earlier, the situation would not be as bad as it is now (1/5 people being HIV positive)

2. ARVS are given for free, but there is now a problem of people breaking into clinics and taking the ARVS and using them as part of a drug or selling them to people with HIV.
3. One of the most important things that need to happen is for more primary clinics to be opened that are closer to the township residents so that they are physically able to get ARVS.

**Something I just thought about and had to write down because it made me so angry: We sat in an HIV support group and there were these two white women from Dallas that were visiting. One of them raised her hand to make a comment and said something along the lines of "Back home, our rates of HIV are lower than they used to be because people are taking their ARVS; it's like chemotherapy for AIDS. So take your ARVS.." WHAT?!? WHAT??!!?!

1: ARVS do not cure HIV, they just allow a person to live longer.. I hope no people in that group think that they no longer have HIV because they take ARVS and end up having unprotected sex because of it and pass HIV along to someone else.

2: Our HIV rates are not down. If anything, rates are UP because people aren't afraid of contracting HIV because of the ARVS

3: Nonchalantly telling township residents to take their ARVS is almost like telling a woman to become a man- for most, it's completely impossible, and you aren't doing a damn bit of help coming in with your poorly-educated advice.

4: She did absolutely nothing to kill my stereotype that Texans are stupid.

Ok back to it. I don't want to go through all the speakers, so I wont. I want to talk about what Edwin told us. I don't cry in front of people. Throughout my entire life, I've learned to be completely stonefaced until I can be alone. I couldn't do that now, I teared up pretty bad and I couldn't keep it from happening. For me to tear up in room with 20 other people, it means alot. I've been able to keep together the entire week with everything we saw, but it was a lot to think about today. Here is what Edwin talked to us about. It is no big surprise that HIV and poverty go hand in hand. But no one in the world will ever be able to tell me again that there is no direct link: the South African government offers a disability grant that people with HIV who are no longer able to work are eligible for. Many women do not feel the right to ask their husbands to practice safe sex with them because they would rather contract HIV and recieve government help to buy food than have their children starve. HIV has become a way to survive in a life of poverty.

He also told us a story where he came across a 9 year old boy who was being taken care of by his uncle because both his parents had died of HIV. The boy was being used for sexual favors by the uncle's girlfriend and put out on the street as a prostitute to get money for her, and this is how he contracted HIV. Eventually the boy was somehow involved with having sex with a dog and was giving sex to other boys in showers and ended up transmitting HIV to two other boys. I can't even wrap my brain around this.. the conditions that are present to allow for this kind of thing to happen are mind boggling and something that I could never understand. I can't get over that. I can't forget the look on Edwin's face when he told us that story. Nothing that I'm able to write here will ever enable you to fully understand the situation and the emotion that the people in these townships are feeling. Nothing.

Along with the speakers, we had little excursions, I guess you can call them, in the afternoons. One house we went to belongs to a woman named Pricilla, who is one of the most amazing people ever put on this earth. Pricilla is an older woman who is taking care of 11 children, only three (or two?) of them are her own. She gets some support from the government, but sometimes that support only gets food to last for a week-after that, she has to figure out how to get food for the rest of the month. We went to her house twice-the first time was to meet her and some of her kids. The second time really made an impact on me. We brought stuff to make lunches for her kids to eat when they got home from school. We put together sandwhiches and gave them chips, juice and a candy bar. We brought some toys with us and gave them to the family as well... before we knew it, there were about 30 kids cramming into Pricilla's house and front porch, all wanting to play with the new toys and get their picture taken. It was so much fun seeing all the kids playing around and blowing bubbles.

When it was time to go, Pricilla thanked us, and I could see in her eyes how much our small effort really meant to her. She said it was beyond words to say how meaningful our time with her family was. Edwin later told us that what was truely important about the lunch was that for even just that one day, Pricilla didn't have to worry about how she woud feed her kids. She didn't have to go out to find odd jobs to earn enough money to buy what food she could. It is just that one time and that small act of help that means the world to someone and gives them hope to wake up the next day.

We also went out to deliver a bunch of the donations that we brought. Some of you might know how completely excited I was to be able to buy a ton of rain jackets to bring down here- for those of you who don't know, the rain jackets were the favorite thing that I got and I couldn't wait to bring them down here. The reason I was so excited was that before we came, we were told that rain jackets would be a really important thing for us to have to keep us dry because the winters here (as we found out the hard way) are rainy and windy and consequently very cold. I wanted the kids to be able to stay dry too. If we could stay dry, why shouldn't they be able to? They shouldn't have to be sopping wet on their walk to school.

So some of the items that we dropped off today were some of the rain jackets! I wanted to share this with you guys because I saw the look on one woman's face when she got a couple of the rain jackets that you helped to get.. she couldn't believe it. There was a moment when she was speechless and all she could do was smile and shake her head. Just like everything else I am writing about, words cannot describe this moment. The look in her eyes, genuine gratitude and when she said "God bless you," will be yet even more moments I will never forget. She reminded me if my Grandma Lowinske, by the way.

These are boys who got rain jackets as well. I wanted to show this one because they are orhpans living with their aunt and the boy on the right is HIV positive. When I found that out, I tried my hardest not to let this thought enter my mind, but it wouldn't go away: HIV eventually becomes resistent to ARVS and requires a different line of the medicine to be taken. There are only 2 lines available in South Africa-when your HIV becomes resistent to the second line, all you can do is to prepare for death. Even if this boy is taking ARVS and able to survive for a long time, his HIV will become resistent. Because he is so young, unless the situation surrounding the HIV pandemic drastically improves, his ARV lines will run out sooner and he will never see a long life.

I want you to see the face of what it is to live in a township. Please keep this in your memory, because I believe they deserve to never be forgotten.

Our last day in Gugulethu, we went to a school for disabled children called Thembalethu, which means 'our hope' in Xhosa. This is the only school in all of Gugulethu which accepts children with all disabilities. I really liked going here. All the students got together so that we could introduce ourselves to them and say hi. Their chior sang some songs for us and then we split up into groups to help out around the school- some people worked on crafts, some helped file, some cleaned up the basketball court, and the group I was with cleaned up the playground.

When we first got there, the playground looked completely abandoned and the principal of the school said that the kids were afraid to play there. We worked on getting the sandbox loosened up so kids could dig in it, and as we went around, we pulled out countless pieces of broken glass and had to cover up sharp rusty metal rods that were sticking out in the corners. We mowed the grass too. For everyone at McCarens that knows how uncomfortable it is to clean up the flower beds downtown without wearing gloves--this was just as bad, if not worse. I definately picked up some very questionable items.. there were bones, condom packets, old food, glass, wrappers... all of them I had no idea where they had been. And this was in a playground. Eventually, the grass was all cut and we were able to clean most of it up before we had to leave. It was really great because the kids were helping us out and having some fun with it. It was fun to talk with them and hear about what they like to do.

Seiphemo told us that he thought the groundskeeper was embarassed by us coming out there to fix it all up, so maybe that means he will keep it up better in the future. We also left all the tools we used at the school, so they will be able to use them in the future as well.

My host momma is a first grade teacher and Stella, Cole, Kate and I got the chance on Wednesday morning to visit her class. The kids are sooooo cute! It was funny because I could tell the second I walked in the door which table was the troublemaker table, they just looked mischeivious. They sang a bunch of songs for us and we taught them a couple.. we did Head Shoulders Knees and Toes, The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and the Hokey Pokey. They really liked that one. Here is Noxie and her class:

Noxie's school is in a township called KTC, which largely made up of slum settlements. Most of her students live in the kind of shacks that we saw during our tours of Gugs and she told Stella and me later that 3 of them have HIV. One girl was hospitalized to treat the tuberculosis that she got because of HIV and will be there for 6 months. First grade.

That's it for now, we are shark diving in the morning so I need to get up at 5am. I think tomorrow I will be writing about the guilt and messiness I am feeling now that we are out of the townships, knowing that millions of people will never have the opportunity to leave like we did. That, along with my nervousness to come home-for many reasons.