Well, here's the thing. I'm supposed to be down here working with the Noah organization, volunteering at six local centers, which they call "Arks."
For reasons of confidentiality, I'd rather not refer to the places of the arks, since there are privacy issues. But here goes the history as of Day 3.
Monday I was looking for Ark #1 at 2:00. I was in the area about 45 minutes early, but directions were off. I spent the next 2 hrs driving around a township (I asked a nearby gas station if it even WAS the right township, since the sign board listed on my directions was missing.) I drove around long enough that I think I ended up on a first-name basis with some residents, as long as my first name is "that-idiot-in-the-grey-car." Called the ark director for help, and she kept referring me to the first landmark in the directions. Hopeless.
After that, I decided to look for 2 other arks that were nearby. For one, the last reference was a squatter camp. Would that be a destination or a landmark? Then it says "you will see squatter camp you ask Noah center next to playground." That's it. So where's the playground??
0 for 2 on arks.
One more should have been nearby. Found the township. Found four-way intersections. You'd think a church would be visible to the naked eye. Gave up.
0 for 3.
On Tuesday, someone from Noah staff offered to drive me into the squatter camp. (It WAS the destination!)
Today, someone was to meet me at a day-care center to lead me to Ark 4. Easy enough if you can find the day-care center. Suffice to say that about 5 people gave me about 7 sets of directions. What I didn't know is that the lady standing on the side of the street, whom I passed at least 6 times, was my "guide." The day-care center: sign? playground equipment? near road?? Naah.
We were 50 minutes late. 0 for 4.
There should have been an Ark 5 in the afternoon, but I didn't have directions.
Not that they would have helped.
0 for 5
That said, the 2 arks I DID see were wonderful, although different. At the first, we started with about 15 kids, late elementary to early middle school aged, working on some spelling stuff. By the time we finished, there were probably 45.
We were working with words that started with "A." Some interesting words came up: Aids. Abuse. Alcohol. Another came up later, that I didn't catch at first, but clearly an abbreviation: ARV.
ARV?
Anti-retro-viral.
Ouch. Reality check.
As Wendy and I discussed later, good that they're learning some of these things. Sad that they have to.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father's Day/Sangoma
Today, I joined my host parents, Lou and Rosemary, at their retirement community for a Father's Day dinner. We were joined by two other couples (Milton and June; Robbie and Sunny) who turned out to be, along with my folks, hysterical company. Milton seems to have done everything, in his lifetime, from piloting to being a bush vet/warden/something in Rhodesia, and all three men seemed to have lifetimes of mischief. God bless long-suffering wives.
After that, our group went to Daveyton. There seems to be suspicion of a bad curse/spell/vibe cast upon the family/house, so a sangoma (healer) was called in to try to solve it. Well, technically, this was a backup sangoma. The original wanted us to show up this morning at 2 a.m.; he was subsequently cancelled and another drummed up.
We sat on the floor, shoes off, and he lit a candle, sprinkled some soil/tobacco/spices/gunpowder (hey, it was dark) on the floor, and started chanting in Zulu. In my mind, he was consulting the ancestors and accessing the situation. This WAS just a consultation, by the way. The real work will follow next week. As flippant as that sounded, it was fascinating. I caught roughly 3 words in Zulu (or three words that sound like the three words that I know, albeit disjointed and lacking any context), but watching his body language and concentration on the faces of the clients, something was definitely going on.
Not sure what the outcome was, but next week we're to show up with a chicken (live, of course) candles, and needles, then we'll be taken out to a field to do something…. yeah, it was vague, but I didn't have to understand anything.
And I don't have to catch a chicken.
On the way home, I asked why it's always a chicken. Not to question his ability or disrespect beliefs, but it's always a chicken. Never a cat, a hamster, a buffalo…
A few of us DID, then, get private consultations. It would be a breach of protocol to tell other's results, but after a long few minutes of very passionate Zulu, and gestures (hang-wringing, tracing a belt around his waist, and something that looked like turning a doorknob), I was told that I have trouble concentrating. And that I have trouble with my legs.
What I was concentrating on was how I was going to get up off the floor without creating total bedlam. I DO have trouble with my legs, after all.
After that, our group went to Daveyton. There seems to be suspicion of a bad curse/spell/vibe cast upon the family/house, so a sangoma (healer) was called in to try to solve it. Well, technically, this was a backup sangoma. The original wanted us to show up this morning at 2 a.m.; he was subsequently cancelled and another drummed up.
We sat on the floor, shoes off, and he lit a candle, sprinkled some soil/tobacco/spices/gunpowder (hey, it was dark) on the floor, and started chanting in Zulu. In my mind, he was consulting the ancestors and accessing the situation. This WAS just a consultation, by the way. The real work will follow next week. As flippant as that sounded, it was fascinating. I caught roughly 3 words in Zulu (or three words that sound like the three words that I know, albeit disjointed and lacking any context), but watching his body language and concentration on the faces of the clients, something was definitely going on.
Not sure what the outcome was, but next week we're to show up with a chicken (live, of course) candles, and needles, then we'll be taken out to a field to do something…. yeah, it was vague, but I didn't have to understand anything.
And I don't have to catch a chicken.
On the way home, I asked why it's always a chicken. Not to question his ability or disrespect beliefs, but it's always a chicken. Never a cat, a hamster, a buffalo…
A few of us DID, then, get private consultations. It would be a breach of protocol to tell other's results, but after a long few minutes of very passionate Zulu, and gestures (hang-wringing, tracing a belt around his waist, and something that looked like turning a doorknob), I was told that I have trouble concentrating. And that I have trouble with my legs.
What I was concentrating on was how I was going to get up off the floor without creating total bedlam. I DO have trouble with my legs, after all.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Pilanesberg
For the last three days, Njabulo, his father, Mike, and I went to Pilanesberg Game Reserve, staying at the same resort that my host parents took me to, years back, and that the ISD school group stayed at 3 years ago.
Now, let me preface this by saying that my seat-mate on the plane from NYC was a young fellow who was coming to South Africa on a hunting trip, off to shoot relatively-captive animals with a bow/arrow. Driving around and "hunting" for game with a camera is, in my opinion, much more rewarding.
As we were checking into our little chalet, there were impala roaming about the grounds -- which appeared to be common. We saw them every evening when returning "home." They clearly have little fear of the humans roaming around.
Before getting into the park itself, we saw a large kudu limping through the tall grass off the side of the road, prompting the first of a million questions about animals from our resident six-year old. Pilanesberg itself is huge … not by the standard of the Kruger National Park, but large enough that you can drive for a while before spotting anything. But in the meantime, looking at the views of an "unspoiled" northern South Africa landscape is very soothing.
We of course saw dozens of zebra, giraffe, warthogs, and impala throughout the three days. They are very common, and after the first few times, one doesn't stop to take pictures or watch them. It became a running joke. The conventional wisdom of the park is that when you see a cluster of cars, something "good" must be there to see. Now and again, we'd find a cluster watching zebras, which prompted us to roll out eyes and announce that the people must be "new arrivals." So jaded, we were.
There were highlights, of course. A herd of elephants about fifteen feet away, tucked into a cluster of trees: adults, young "teens," and a few CUTE little babies! Unfortunately, the elephants would peek out of the trees just briefly, so picture-taking opportunities weren't the best, but the memory of the thrill is still there.
Njabulo had his heart set on seeing lions, even though we told him time and again that they came out only at night. As night would fall, he would ask, "Are the lions hunting now?" But on Wednesday we came upon the carcass of a giraffe that had been killed by a lion, who was nowhere to be seen. On Thursday, we were in a blind near a dam when a man told us that the lion was back, eating the giraffe. We made our way back and were just able to watch for a few minutes before the lion stopped and disappeared into the bush. People had told us that it was a "big, fat lion"… and they were right!
I'm having difficulties with the card reader for my camera, so no pictures just yet. To be continued...
Now, let me preface this by saying that my seat-mate on the plane from NYC was a young fellow who was coming to South Africa on a hunting trip, off to shoot relatively-captive animals with a bow/arrow. Driving around and "hunting" for game with a camera is, in my opinion, much more rewarding.
As we were checking into our little chalet, there were impala roaming about the grounds -- which appeared to be common. We saw them every evening when returning "home." They clearly have little fear of the humans roaming around.
Before getting into the park itself, we saw a large kudu limping through the tall grass off the side of the road, prompting the first of a million questions about animals from our resident six-year old. Pilanesberg itself is huge … not by the standard of the Kruger National Park, but large enough that you can drive for a while before spotting anything. But in the meantime, looking at the views of an "unspoiled" northern South Africa landscape is very soothing.
We of course saw dozens of zebra, giraffe, warthogs, and impala throughout the three days. They are very common, and after the first few times, one doesn't stop to take pictures or watch them. It became a running joke. The conventional wisdom of the park is that when you see a cluster of cars, something "good" must be there to see. Now and again, we'd find a cluster watching zebras, which prompted us to roll out eyes and announce that the people must be "new arrivals." So jaded, we were.
There were highlights, of course. A herd of elephants about fifteen feet away, tucked into a cluster of trees: adults, young "teens," and a few CUTE little babies! Unfortunately, the elephants would peek out of the trees just briefly, so picture-taking opportunities weren't the best, but the memory of the thrill is still there.
Njabulo had his heart set on seeing lions, even though we told him time and again that they came out only at night. As night would fall, he would ask, "Are the lions hunting now?" But on Wednesday we came upon the carcass of a giraffe that had been killed by a lion, who was nowhere to be seen. On Thursday, we were in a blind near a dam when a man told us that the lion was back, eating the giraffe. We made our way back and were just able to watch for a few minutes before the lion stopped and disappeared into the bush. People had told us that it was a "big, fat lion"… and they were right!
I'm having difficulties with the card reader for my camera, so no pictures just yet. To be continued...
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Arrival!
Made it to South Africa this morning!
The flight was basically uneventful, with exception of my little aisle-seat seatmate for the 14-hr. jog to Johannesburg from JFK. He seemed the nicest little fellow, but they he told me that he was coming to South Africa to go hunting. A frost-curtain went down between us. Not only that, but someone is filming this expedition to make a reality show or documentary or something. I'm sure he said what, but my brain was still doing an Ally-McBeal mental choke-hold. I refrained from doing Marisa Tomei's "Imagine you're a deer… speech from My Cousin Vinny. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMjwiP29cg4)
Best oddball reaction of the day: I went to pick up my rental car, and the little fellow, once he found reservation in the system, started looking at the computer monitor, back to me, back to monitor… and asked, "Do you still want this car for FIFTY-FIVE DAYS?" He was sure that I had a type when I made the reservation.
Bless his heart. Little does he realize that he'll get the car back, but the clutch/transmission could be a different story. Seem to leaving parts of it strewn all over every intersection and parking lot in the 'hood. So naive it's touching.
Just finished my first Ouma buttermilk rusk,
It's official. I'm back.
The flight was basically uneventful, with exception of my little aisle-seat seatmate for the 14-hr. jog to Johannesburg from JFK. He seemed the nicest little fellow, but they he told me that he was coming to South Africa to go hunting. A frost-curtain went down between us. Not only that, but someone is filming this expedition to make a reality show or documentary or something. I'm sure he said what, but my brain was still doing an Ally-McBeal mental choke-hold. I refrained from doing Marisa Tomei's "Imagine you're a deer… speech from My Cousin Vinny. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMjwiP29cg4)
Best oddball reaction of the day: I went to pick up my rental car, and the little fellow, once he found reservation in the system, started looking at the computer monitor, back to me, back to monitor… and asked, "Do you still want this car for FIFTY-FIVE DAYS?" He was sure that I had a type when I made the reservation.
Bless his heart. Little does he realize that he'll get the car back, but the clutch/transmission could be a different story. Seem to leaving parts of it strewn all over every intersection and parking lot in the 'hood. So naive it's touching.
Just finished my first Ouma buttermilk rusk,
It's official. I'm back.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Swerwer Sonder Rigting
From 13 June to 9 August, I'll be in South Africa, courtesy of the Lilly Foundation, working with a group called NOAH (Nurturing Orphans of AIDS for Humanity: http://www.noahorphans.org.za/)
I have a history of misadventures when I travel: taking a week to learn the Armenian word for "thank you" from daily visits to a shopkeeper, who found me charming, if stupid; peeling the top off of a new South African rental van like it was a can of sardines (who put that awning there?); trying to sleep in a sweltering-hot hotel room in Kuala Lumpur because I couldn't find the A/C (or the light switches, for that matter)...
Heading back to the land of milk by the bag, a dizzying number of languages, sheep outnumbering people, and tangerines and avacados as big as your head.
Wish me luck.
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