Well . . . I actually typed up a blog post two days ago, but I couldn’t upload it at the time and the document I saved it on has disappeared, so . . . I guess I just have to type it again! Sheesh . . .
Good news, though is that I have so many interesting things to say so it should be fun to write (again) and to read! YAY! So, here we go:
My last post was pretty short and just a basic update: I’m alive, having fun, the end. So here’s my chance to go a little (or a lot) deeper into the past week of bussing along the South African coast. I’m travelling with a guide, Mzamo, another English All Out Africa volunteer, Kene, and three other English girls who are on a month-long trip through South Africa, Joanne, Lisa, and Katherine. We’re using the Baz Bus which is a service taking travelers door-to-door from one hostel to another. Their route spans the entire South African coast with stop-overs in Swaziland, Lesotho, and even a shuttle to Mozambique! Even though the driving can be a little questionable at times (I’ve held my breath and clenched my body more than once as we made a pass around an 18-wheeler on a two-lane mountain highway), but mostly it’s a relaxing and cost-effective way to go.
We started in St. Lucia, a little beach resort town. We arrived mid-day and decided to go on our included hippo and croc cruise that afternoon. We saw birds, including the appropriately named Goliath heron, an antelope or two, some of the biggest crocodiles I’ve ever seen, and TONS of hippos (pun intended)! The hippos were having a lazy afternoon, just snoozing in the shallow water of the estuary. I got some great photos, which I hope to post soon.
The next day was our only full day in St. Lucia, and boy, was it a biggie! The morning was relaxed for me. The three English girls went on a tour of the nearby cultural village, but I stayed behind to sit in the sun, drink some tea, photograph the monkeys robbing the bar, and catch up in my journal. After lunch, though, all of us except Kene, headed out for an afternoon game drive in the Hluhluwe Imfolozi Game Reserve! This was my first game drive in Africa and I was SUPER excited! Even the impossibly windy hour-long drive out to the park couldn’t sour my mood. We spent about 2.5 hours driving all over the park and, in the process, got up close and personal with zebra, antelope bachelors and harems, buffalo, vultures, beautifully colored birds, baboons, rhino (both black and white), and even lions off in the distance! It was absolutely amazing how close we got to some of them. Even the rhinos were so close that I could have thrown a rock and hit them! . . . I didn’t, of course. But I could have . . . And I FINALLY learned the difference between white and black rhinos! Ready? It has NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT COLOR THEY ARE because, in fact, THEY ARE THE SAME DAMN COLOR! Actually, black rhinos have smaller heads that they hold up, and white rhinos have bigger heads that they hold down. That’s it. Why they’re called different colors, I don’t know. Weird. The lions were still pretty darn far off, but seeing them got me all giddy and excited for my trip to Zimbabwe! I can’t wait!
We left the park just in time to watch the sun dip down below the hills, snuggled up under some blankets and drove the substantially less terrible hour-long drive back to St. Lucia. Waiting for us shortly after our return was the hostel’s free Wednesday night dinner, provided by the staff. It was a traditional South African meal of pap (a flavorless filler made of corn meal that I’ve eaten more often in the last three weeks than I care to mention) with a meaty stew. To be fair, pap is meant to be a base. A blank canvas on which the rest of the meal may be painted, so, as long as the paint is tasty, so’s the pap! And besides, it was free! And who am I to turn down a free dinner?
After dinner, though, was the real fun. The hostel invited traditional Zulu dancers to perform for us! They were dressed in furs and headdresses and held sticks and carried in drums . . . I was excited. The performance was phenomenal! The dance seemed centered around impossibly high kicks. These guys were so limber that they would literally kick themselves in the shoulders! And they would kick themselves HARD. It was so intense and so high energy and so celebratory that Joanne and I agreed that it would, no doubt, be the next workout craze to sweep our respective nations: ZULU FITNESS! Something like that . . . we’re still working on our marketing approach . . . Anyway, they showed us a wedding dance as well as competition dance, in which each dancer performs individually. Then, not at all surprisingly, they started pulling audience members out of their chairs to try their hand at traditional Zulu dancing. One at a time. For the whole crowd.
This was one of those moments in life where you think to yourself, “Please, dear Jesus, don’t let them pick me,” and yet, at the same time, you are really hoping they will. How often do you get the chance to dance with the Zulu, after all?! I figured only one, so I was simultaneously nervous and relieved when one of them grabbed my hand and pulled me up on stage. But have no doubts in your minds. I went for it. BIG time! I was high kicking and laughing and even threw in a side kick I’d seen some of them do! I looked absolutely ridiculous, I’m sure, but I had a blast. I even had our guide, Mzamo, laughing for the rest of the night just thinking about my performance!
Anyway, it was a fantastic end to the day and my time in St. Lucia. Next stop: Durban!
Thursday was spent traveling on the Baz Bus, cooking dinner, and going to bed. We did have some pretty interesting dinner conversation, though. The topic eventually turned to Swazi politics and, since Mzamo is Swazi, I was finally able to get some questions answered in a straightforward way. We talked a lot about the king in Swaziland and how the people really feel about him. His name is King Mswati III and he isn’t exactly following in the wisdom of his father’s reign. His father reigned for longer than Queen Victoria and was the one to give Swaziland its independence from England. He’s revered and respected and remembered with such fondness because of his many accomplishments, but also because of his laid-back approach to things. He was always available to the people, and even though he had 70 wives and 200+ children, he never went overboard with the whole “life of luxury” nonsense. The current king, however, is the picture of extravagance. Each of his 13 wives has three luxury brand cars and 11 million rand to spend in Dubai on a shopping trip once a year. He also spent R48 million on a single day of celebration. Oh, and did I mention that ALL of this is taxpayer money? Meanwhile, children are orphaned by AIDS, go without food, and approximately 40% of the country is unemployed . . . SUPER. Mzamo was saying that he thinks the monarchy may die with this king and that the transition out of it may be a bloody one. It was a truly fascinating conversation and absolutely refreshing to get an uncensored African opinion.
The next day was much more light-hearted! Mzamo, Kene, and I headed to Durban’s World Cup stadium first thing in the morning! We were going to take a tour and I was considering doing the “big swing” which was from the stadium’s arch over the pitch! It looked like it could be fun, but unfortunately, it didn’t happen. We were on the bus, pulling up to the stadium, when a few guys who worked at the swing introduced themselves and started pitching us the swing. Then, once we arrived, they coaxed us into their office saying that we could get our tour tickets there . . . which we could not. They would not let us leave and as a result, not only was I completely put off of the idea, but they made us miss the 10AM tour by five minutes and have to kill an hour until the 11AM, essentially wasting our entire morning of our one full day in Durban. Thanks, guys.
Thankfully, though, the tour of the stadium revived my good mood. It was awesome! Once we were inside the stadium, it just took my breath away. We got to sit in the stands and learn about the symbolism of the colors of the seats (blue for the ocean and orange for the African sunrise) and the arch over the stadium (a nod to the “Y” in the South African flag representing a divided nation coming together) and hear about the unsung anti-apartheid hero for whom the stadium was named and walk along the pitch and sit in the dugout and take pictures . . . yea, good day. I even took some photos in the dugout as the “disappointed coach” or the “focused substitute player.”
After the stadium, Kene and I headed to uShaka Marine World, an aquarium and water park for which we had tickets included. The aquarium was fun with lots of fish and even shows like you’d find at Sea World with the penguins, seals, and dolphins. It never ceases to amaze me how an aquarium brings out the childlike wonder in me . . . It was a nice way to spend the afternoon.
That night was our last hurrah in Durban, and boy, was it a doozie: dinner at Moyo, this single BEST restaurant experience of my life. No joke. It was that good. In fact, I will dream about it for years to come. First of all, the décor was a blend of eclectic, modern, and some kind of marine “Alice in Wonderland.” The lights were even molded to look like jellyfish! Second, and primarily our reason for going there, the food was incredible: delicious and beautifully presented. There was a complimentary starter of bread with different dips such as olive oil, coriander, garlic, and red chili. I also treated myself to what ended up being an absolutely massive strawberry daiquiri. For our main course, we all tried the Durban classic known as “bunny chow”: a loaf of bread hollowed out with curry stuffed inside. The perfect amount of spice, heat, and flavor. And, just when we though we were done, someone said “dessert.” I ordered the “Accra banana bread with peanuts and chocolate cake,” thinking that it might be a slice of banana bread with some goodies on top. But no, it was a huge slice of cake! I just melted on the spot, it was so good. Lastly, there was the atmosphere. Once we were seated, a young woman came by offering hand washing and face painting. Everyone except Kene opted for a Zulu branding: delicate flower designs for the girls and Zulu warrior markings for the guys. Then, there were the Zulu dancer/singers. They blended the traditional and the modern beautifully and with lots of flair (not to mention noise, including the single biggest vuvuzela I have ever seen). We saw them perform three or four times while we were there, including a private song sung just for our table! The cherry on top? The price. For all that I paid R135, including a sizeable tip, which comes out to ‘round about $20-25. YEA.
After such a magnificent evening, the next day was pretty banal. Up at 5:30AM, approximately 11 hours spent on the Baz Bus, all to arrive at Chintsa of the Wild Coast around 5PM. It was quite the long haul, but once we arrived, I saw that it was all worth it. This is easily one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. Rolling hills (not dissimilar to the Texas hill country, just distinctly more African), dense vegetation right up to the sandy beach, shallow estuary, and wavy bay. Just stunning. And not completely overcrowded with people! The perfect balance of company and seclusion. It was so beautiful that I had to have a closer look before it got too dark, so I dropped my stuff on a bed and headed off to the water. I was just in time to see the sun setting. The water lapped against the sand and the few kayaks left lazily at the shoreline of the estuary, birds called from all directions, it was cool and breezy, and the sun was hot orange with the sunset. It was so overwhelming that I actually teared up. Cheesy? Maybe. But it really was stunning. I made myself a memory of the sunset, made a date with the sunrise for the next morning, and headed back to the cabin.
Yesterday was another exciting, yet powerfully relaxing day. The morning began with the girls joining me for the sunrise, then a free breakfast provided by the lodge, and then we were off to a morning of horseback riding along the bay! Unfortunately for me, the horse our guide wanted to put me on was tacked with an extremely English saddle, so me and my Western-style trained self ended up riding the aptly named “Fat” Freddie who was fitted with a “trailblazer” saddle that was more suited to my experience. At first, Freddie was terribly reluctant to expend energy for anything other than eating, but once we made it down to the beach, he started getting excited, and so did I! Most of the others on the ride were absolute beginners, but the guide accounted for my experience and gave me plenty of chances to try to whip Freddie into an open canter. Mostly, I’d get him going just in time for him to have to slow down again, but I got one beautiful, long, easy canter with him. It felt great. Hills and trees on one side, sand beneath me, the rolling ocean on the other, and me blazing through it on my chubby steed . . . Felt pretty darn good.
The afternoon was far more lazy, as has been today. I sat on the beach, journaled in the sun, and walked through the waves. I even stalked a German Shepherd puppy and his owner for about an hour. Now, by “stalked” I only mean that they happen to position themselves in my eye line, but he was so flippin’ cute that I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was having so much fun and so desperately wanted to be at his owner’s heels, but his owner was standing in the surf, and the pup was just still too suspicious of the waves. He’d get close to his owner just in time for another wave to chase him up the beach, then he’d chase it back into the ocean, and it’d start all over again. Adorable.
Today, I’ve just been reading in the sun, walking around, and writing the blog post. The rest of the day will be more of the same until a 5-hour bus ride to Port Elizabeth, where we will spend the night (and less than 12 hours) before heading off to our next real stop. It’s been a fabulous time here in Chintsa and I know that I’ll leave a little piece of my heart here when I go . . .
Monday, August 23, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Swaziland to South Africa . . .
(Fear not, friends, this post will be significantly shorter than my last, as I only have a limited time left on this computer before it automatically logs me off!)
Well, folks, I left Swaziland on Tuesday morning and am now in the beautiful and exciting post-World Cup country of South Africa! I'm excited for the next phase of my adventure, but it was really difficult for me to leave "the beautiful kingdom" behind. Not only will I miss all of my fellow volunteers, but also the many Swazi young people who became my friends at the Youth Centre. I was inspired there and I learned more than I could have ever hoped to in such a short time. Not only that, but I left just a week before the Reed Dance Ceremony in which young women from all over the country will gather right where I was staying and perform traditional dances for the king who will choose one of them for his next wife! The guys at the Youth Centre even offered to get me a traditional outfit so that I could participate. Isn't that nice? OH, and did I mention that this outfit does not include a shirt? Yikes . . .
I'll miss the adventure of taking the kombi to and from my volunteer post everyday, the walk to the grocery store, the intense and amazing conversations, and how friendly everyone was.
The computer is about to cut me off! More later!
Well, folks, I left Swaziland on Tuesday morning and am now in the beautiful and exciting post-World Cup country of South Africa! I'm excited for the next phase of my adventure, but it was really difficult for me to leave "the beautiful kingdom" behind. Not only will I miss all of my fellow volunteers, but also the many Swazi young people who became my friends at the Youth Centre. I was inspired there and I learned more than I could have ever hoped to in such a short time. Not only that, but I left just a week before the Reed Dance Ceremony in which young women from all over the country will gather right where I was staying and perform traditional dances for the king who will choose one of them for his next wife! The guys at the Youth Centre even offered to get me a traditional outfit so that I could participate. Isn't that nice? OH, and did I mention that this outfit does not include a shirt? Yikes . . .
I'll miss the adventure of taking the kombi to and from my volunteer post everyday, the walk to the grocery store, the intense and amazing conversations, and how friendly everyone was.
The computer is about to cut me off! More later!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sanibonani from Swaziland!
Alright! First blog post from the road! Go me!
The past couple weeks have been absolutely, unbelievably amazing. I’m only here two weeks and, honestly, from the first day of my volunteer project, I knew that wouldn’t be enough. It took absolutely no time at all to fall in love with this place and these people, and here I go, leaving before I’ve even really begun!
But let me back up a little bit and talk about the journey here first. It was an adventure to say the least. Five cities, Four flights, three days, and a combined 22 hours in the air left me . . . drained. Austin to Dallas/Ft. Worth to London (where I had a 12-hour layover) to Johannesburg to Manzini just kicked my butt. My time in London was just weird. It was my third or fourth time there, I had no desire or money to really see anything and my back hurt from carrying my stuff and sleeping upright. I did, however get a power nap in the grass in front of Buckingham Palace, though! It was delightful. The only good news from this epic journey: both the 9 and 11 hour flights were “overnight” based on the time zone I was headed to, so once I arrived, I didn’t end up all that jetlagged! Hooray!
Upon arriving in Swaziland (At last! At last!), it finally hit me: “Hey, Janie, you’re in Africa! Say whaaaaaaaaaaat?!” At the airport (and I use the word “airport” pretty loosely), I and some other volunteers made our way through customs. They seemed baffled by the fact that none of us knew exactly where we were going or who exactly was picking us up at the airport, but they graciously allowed us into their country on a 30-day tourist visa anyway.
The next two days are a blur of new faces and names, settling in, and general confusion. There was, in fact, a hot second there where I thought I might have ended up in the wrong place! Not so, thank God. Evidently, I’m just the only one here on my specific program. No biggie. Anyway, the first full day mercifully began with our orientation. I learned how to greet people in Siswati (the local language, although everyone speaks English as well), that Swaziland was the second smallest country in the world and one of the only remaining absolute monarchies, and that I would be the first volunteer EVER sent to the Lobamba Youth Centre, and I would be on my own . . . Super. At first, I was completely intimidated. I was to, completely on my own, organize these young adults (age 18 and up) in drama games and something called “interaction talks.” Nice. I had no idea what that meant. However, after meeting the coordinator at the Youth Centre, Welile (pronounced phonetically), I had a much better idea of what they wanted. They were trying to get the Centre off the ground. They wanted it to be a place where young people could come to relax, interact, get help, and excel. They just needed a little help getting there.
Once I knew their needs, the camp counsellor and theatre student in me kicked into action. The first day I planned was all games: name games, Schwing, Red Light/Green Light, Look Up/Look Down, etc. I’m still having trouble learning names since they are not only names I’ve never heard before in all my life, but because Siswati is one of those African languages that includes a clicking sound as well as some other pronunciations you won’t find in the King’s English. Despite that, however, the games were a HUGE hit. I was laughing and joking with everyone within minutes and I could feel the ice breaking. We also spent some time that first day just talking and asking questions. Mostly they asked about life in America, specifically Texas. They had even seen “Walker, Texas Ranger”! They were also surprised to learn that HIV/AIDS is a problem in America. Finally, I think hearts broke all over Swaziland when they found out that I have a boyfriend. And a firefighter, to boot! Thankfully, though, no one offered to be my “Swazi” boyfriend that day. That’s what any other man here will say. Even if you say that you’re married, they’ll say, “Ah, yes, but you don’t have a Swazi husband . . .” It’s hilarious, if a little awkward.
It wasn’t all fun and games that day, though. As we were all sitting around talking, one of the older boys, Sihle, asked if he could make a speech in his own language so that it would be his. I said of course, and Welile translated for me. He spoke passionately about how this Youth Centre was theirs and how they needed to treat it and each other with respect and kindness, whereas now, he felt like they would ignore each other if they crossed paths in the market. Even if Welile hadn’t been translating, he was so clear in his ideas and so invested in his words I think I still would have gotten goose bumps. I mean, this guy could PREACH. Eventually, his speech turned into a heated discussion with some of the younger guys who felt that it was his responsibility to include them since he was older and he had failed to do that in the past. Gradually, they decided to put the past in the past and start fresh. And then they did the unthinkable: they thanked ME for making it all happen. I felt like I hadn’t done a thing, but everyone was so grateful to me for bringing them together. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but I decided that I would earn their gratitude during my time there.
Anyway, I left that first day feeling completely inspired and bursting with ideas for the coming weeks. Over the next few days we played some more games, did some exercises with jelly beans and courage beads and trust webs to help them feel comfortable opening up to each other, and brainstormed how what it was they wanted the Youth Centre to be. I’m immensely proud of what we accomplished. I mean, all I really did was start the ball rolling and let them run with it, but I felt like I was making a difference. Something tangible and real would linger on long after I left Swaziland, and that felt great.
Most of the other volunteers here are working at NCPs (Neighborhood Care Points) where orphans and vulnerable children who cannot afford to go to school gather during the day to be looked after, fed at least once, and taught at least some basic skills, like literacy. While this is a highly noble purpose, I feel honoured to be where I am. Not only am I helping to build something new, but I’m able to connect with these Swazis much more easily than one can connect to a 3-year-old who doesn’t speak much English. I can ask questions, debate, discuss, and at least begin to truly understand the state of things for average people in Swaziland. Is the HIV/AIDS epidemic really that bad? Absolutely yes, it is. I have yet to meet someone who hasn’t lost almost their entire family to AIDS. Does the king really have 13 wives? Yes, he does, and he may acquire another one at the end of the month at the Reed Dance ceremony, but many people think he won’t since he hasn’t chosen a wife in the last four years. Can people divorce or be openly gay in Swaziland? No, they cannot. Are people here religious? Yes, about 70% of the people here are Christian, but these same people also believe in witchcraft
It truly has been amazing, the things I’ve learned. Ask me some time. I’d love to tell you about it.
The Youth Centre isn’t the only volunteering I’ve done, though. I also spent a couple days learning about and volunteering with an organization called Gone Rural boMake. This is an initiative to help Swazi women in very rural and traditional (i.e. highly patriarchal) communities generate income by selling handicrafts that they weave from grass. They weave everything from placemats and napkin rings, to home décor, to bowls. What makes these special is that Gone Rural buys the grass that the women have harvested and dye it fantastic colors before selling it back to them. This means that not only are the products very well made, but they’re also unique. Check it out at http://www.goneruralswazi.com/!
My role in all of this was to take one day and travel out with the Gone Rural folks into a very remote community up in the mountains, and intellectually stimulate and play with the women’s children while they bought, sold, and traded their grasses and finished weavings. It was the coldest day I’ve had here that we went up into the mountains (of course), but the children were so incredibly delightful and adorable, that I didn’t mind the cold one bit. They all huddled around me and we put puzzles together, read books, drew pictures on little chalkboards, and played soccer. It was amazing to see these children, who had probably never seen a puzzle before, figure out spatial relationships of the different pieces to try to make the picture again. Some of them used the chalkboard to show me how well they could write and speak English. Not that they ever actually said all that much. As so many little kids do around adults they’ve just met, they remained bashfully quiet and would only occasionally whisper and giggle to each other in Siswati. It was irresistibly cute. One little girl in particular took a shine to me. She was the youngest one there, probably about two years old. Her nose was running and she wore all pink. She sat right at my hip, then on my lap, then played with my camera, then guarded “her” book from all the other kids, then showed me her soccer skills (that girl will grow up to be a fabulous goalie, mark my words).
We spent about two hours on that mountaintop before I was back in the truck, rattling back down the dirt roads at a blistering 65 miles per hour. It was over way too soon. But, at least I got myself a little something to take home with me from the Gone Rural shop!
But it hasn’t ALL been good-deed-doing here in Swaziland. I have had some time to see and do things that one should do when they travel. One of our first afternoons here, we did a walking tour of the village of Lobamba. We saw traditional stick and mud houses, tasted the local beer, saw the king’s palace off in the distance, and tasted our first braii (the local and delicious version of barbecue). I also hiked the mountain behind the lodge where we’re staying, called Sheeba’s Breast. Unfortunately, I have no idea who Sheeba is or why this mountain is named after her mammary gland, but there’s no denying that the peak of the mountain does, in fact, look like a “tit” as one of my British co-volunteers so delicately put the other day. It was an excruciating hike up, thrillingly beautiful and triumphant at the top (minus the part when I thought I might never be able to get down), and a rather easy descent. I also took a day to go 4-wheeling (or “quad biking” as the Brits and post-colonial Swazis call it) through a private game reserve! I eventually got quite comfortable on the vehicle, though I never thought I would, and did some rather death-defying things. Unfortunately for me, I was the first in line behind our instructor, so besides him, I was the first to tackle any of the obstacles that were presented. I essentially became the group’s now-watch-and-see-what-NOT-to-do girl, but I conquered almost everything in the end! I did end up in a ditch once . . . but it was only because I’m an idiot. Yea. No excuse there.
OK, well this blog post is already FAR too long for anyone except my mom to read all the way through, so I think I’ll cap it there for now and maybe try a briefer post next time . . . maybe . . .
Hoping for one more post before I’m off to South Africa on Tuesday!
Loving and missing you all!
The past couple weeks have been absolutely, unbelievably amazing. I’m only here two weeks and, honestly, from the first day of my volunteer project, I knew that wouldn’t be enough. It took absolutely no time at all to fall in love with this place and these people, and here I go, leaving before I’ve even really begun!
But let me back up a little bit and talk about the journey here first. It was an adventure to say the least. Five cities, Four flights, three days, and a combined 22 hours in the air left me . . . drained. Austin to Dallas/Ft. Worth to London (where I had a 12-hour layover) to Johannesburg to Manzini just kicked my butt. My time in London was just weird. It was my third or fourth time there, I had no desire or money to really see anything and my back hurt from carrying my stuff and sleeping upright. I did, however get a power nap in the grass in front of Buckingham Palace, though! It was delightful. The only good news from this epic journey: both the 9 and 11 hour flights were “overnight” based on the time zone I was headed to, so once I arrived, I didn’t end up all that jetlagged! Hooray!
Upon arriving in Swaziland (At last! At last!), it finally hit me: “Hey, Janie, you’re in Africa! Say whaaaaaaaaaaat?!” At the airport (and I use the word “airport” pretty loosely), I and some other volunteers made our way through customs. They seemed baffled by the fact that none of us knew exactly where we were going or who exactly was picking us up at the airport, but they graciously allowed us into their country on a 30-day tourist visa anyway.
The next two days are a blur of new faces and names, settling in, and general confusion. There was, in fact, a hot second there where I thought I might have ended up in the wrong place! Not so, thank God. Evidently, I’m just the only one here on my specific program. No biggie. Anyway, the first full day mercifully began with our orientation. I learned how to greet people in Siswati (the local language, although everyone speaks English as well), that Swaziland was the second smallest country in the world and one of the only remaining absolute monarchies, and that I would be the first volunteer EVER sent to the Lobamba Youth Centre, and I would be on my own . . . Super. At first, I was completely intimidated. I was to, completely on my own, organize these young adults (age 18 and up) in drama games and something called “interaction talks.” Nice. I had no idea what that meant. However, after meeting the coordinator at the Youth Centre, Welile (pronounced phonetically), I had a much better idea of what they wanted. They were trying to get the Centre off the ground. They wanted it to be a place where young people could come to relax, interact, get help, and excel. They just needed a little help getting there.
Once I knew their needs, the camp counsellor and theatre student in me kicked into action. The first day I planned was all games: name games, Schwing, Red Light/Green Light, Look Up/Look Down, etc. I’m still having trouble learning names since they are not only names I’ve never heard before in all my life, but because Siswati is one of those African languages that includes a clicking sound as well as some other pronunciations you won’t find in the King’s English. Despite that, however, the games were a HUGE hit. I was laughing and joking with everyone within minutes and I could feel the ice breaking. We also spent some time that first day just talking and asking questions. Mostly they asked about life in America, specifically Texas. They had even seen “Walker, Texas Ranger”! They were also surprised to learn that HIV/AIDS is a problem in America. Finally, I think hearts broke all over Swaziland when they found out that I have a boyfriend. And a firefighter, to boot! Thankfully, though, no one offered to be my “Swazi” boyfriend that day. That’s what any other man here will say. Even if you say that you’re married, they’ll say, “Ah, yes, but you don’t have a Swazi husband . . .” It’s hilarious, if a little awkward.
It wasn’t all fun and games that day, though. As we were all sitting around talking, one of the older boys, Sihle, asked if he could make a speech in his own language so that it would be his. I said of course, and Welile translated for me. He spoke passionately about how this Youth Centre was theirs and how they needed to treat it and each other with respect and kindness, whereas now, he felt like they would ignore each other if they crossed paths in the market. Even if Welile hadn’t been translating, he was so clear in his ideas and so invested in his words I think I still would have gotten goose bumps. I mean, this guy could PREACH. Eventually, his speech turned into a heated discussion with some of the younger guys who felt that it was his responsibility to include them since he was older and he had failed to do that in the past. Gradually, they decided to put the past in the past and start fresh. And then they did the unthinkable: they thanked ME for making it all happen. I felt like I hadn’t done a thing, but everyone was so grateful to me for bringing them together. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but I decided that I would earn their gratitude during my time there.
Anyway, I left that first day feeling completely inspired and bursting with ideas for the coming weeks. Over the next few days we played some more games, did some exercises with jelly beans and courage beads and trust webs to help them feel comfortable opening up to each other, and brainstormed how what it was they wanted the Youth Centre to be. I’m immensely proud of what we accomplished. I mean, all I really did was start the ball rolling and let them run with it, but I felt like I was making a difference. Something tangible and real would linger on long after I left Swaziland, and that felt great.
Most of the other volunteers here are working at NCPs (Neighborhood Care Points) where orphans and vulnerable children who cannot afford to go to school gather during the day to be looked after, fed at least once, and taught at least some basic skills, like literacy. While this is a highly noble purpose, I feel honoured to be where I am. Not only am I helping to build something new, but I’m able to connect with these Swazis much more easily than one can connect to a 3-year-old who doesn’t speak much English. I can ask questions, debate, discuss, and at least begin to truly understand the state of things for average people in Swaziland. Is the HIV/AIDS epidemic really that bad? Absolutely yes, it is. I have yet to meet someone who hasn’t lost almost their entire family to AIDS. Does the king really have 13 wives? Yes, he does, and he may acquire another one at the end of the month at the Reed Dance ceremony, but many people think he won’t since he hasn’t chosen a wife in the last four years. Can people divorce or be openly gay in Swaziland? No, they cannot. Are people here religious? Yes, about 70% of the people here are Christian, but these same people also believe in witchcraft
It truly has been amazing, the things I’ve learned. Ask me some time. I’d love to tell you about it.
The Youth Centre isn’t the only volunteering I’ve done, though. I also spent a couple days learning about and volunteering with an organization called Gone Rural boMake. This is an initiative to help Swazi women in very rural and traditional (i.e. highly patriarchal) communities generate income by selling handicrafts that they weave from grass. They weave everything from placemats and napkin rings, to home décor, to bowls. What makes these special is that Gone Rural buys the grass that the women have harvested and dye it fantastic colors before selling it back to them. This means that not only are the products very well made, but they’re also unique. Check it out at http://www.goneruralswazi.com/!
My role in all of this was to take one day and travel out with the Gone Rural folks into a very remote community up in the mountains, and intellectually stimulate and play with the women’s children while they bought, sold, and traded their grasses and finished weavings. It was the coldest day I’ve had here that we went up into the mountains (of course), but the children were so incredibly delightful and adorable, that I didn’t mind the cold one bit. They all huddled around me and we put puzzles together, read books, drew pictures on little chalkboards, and played soccer. It was amazing to see these children, who had probably never seen a puzzle before, figure out spatial relationships of the different pieces to try to make the picture again. Some of them used the chalkboard to show me how well they could write and speak English. Not that they ever actually said all that much. As so many little kids do around adults they’ve just met, they remained bashfully quiet and would only occasionally whisper and giggle to each other in Siswati. It was irresistibly cute. One little girl in particular took a shine to me. She was the youngest one there, probably about two years old. Her nose was running and she wore all pink. She sat right at my hip, then on my lap, then played with my camera, then guarded “her” book from all the other kids, then showed me her soccer skills (that girl will grow up to be a fabulous goalie, mark my words).
We spent about two hours on that mountaintop before I was back in the truck, rattling back down the dirt roads at a blistering 65 miles per hour. It was over way too soon. But, at least I got myself a little something to take home with me from the Gone Rural shop!
But it hasn’t ALL been good-deed-doing here in Swaziland. I have had some time to see and do things that one should do when they travel. One of our first afternoons here, we did a walking tour of the village of Lobamba. We saw traditional stick and mud houses, tasted the local beer, saw the king’s palace off in the distance, and tasted our first braii (the local and delicious version of barbecue). I also hiked the mountain behind the lodge where we’re staying, called Sheeba’s Breast. Unfortunately, I have no idea who Sheeba is or why this mountain is named after her mammary gland, but there’s no denying that the peak of the mountain does, in fact, look like a “tit” as one of my British co-volunteers so delicately put the other day. It was an excruciating hike up, thrillingly beautiful and triumphant at the top (minus the part when I thought I might never be able to get down), and a rather easy descent. I also took a day to go 4-wheeling (or “quad biking” as the Brits and post-colonial Swazis call it) through a private game reserve! I eventually got quite comfortable on the vehicle, though I never thought I would, and did some rather death-defying things. Unfortunately for me, I was the first in line behind our instructor, so besides him, I was the first to tackle any of the obstacles that were presented. I essentially became the group’s now-watch-and-see-what-NOT-to-do girl, but I conquered almost everything in the end! I did end up in a ditch once . . . but it was only because I’m an idiot. Yea. No excuse there.
OK, well this blog post is already FAR too long for anyone except my mom to read all the way through, so I think I’ll cap it there for now and maybe try a briefer post next time . . . maybe . . .
Hoping for one more post before I’m off to South Africa on Tuesday!
Loving and missing you all!
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