This weekend I went to a going-away party for our friend John from New Jersey who will be returning to the US on June 4. The reality that we all will be going our separate ways soon is becoming more obvious with each day. Part of me is really looking forward to being home, seeing friends and family, eating burritos and In N Out, and having fast internet; another part of me knows that I am really going to miss the life that I have here. While the South African lifestyle* is by no means flawless, there are some aspects of it that I wish I could take home. Here's a quick rundown:
1) Ubuntu
This is a Zulu word that has no direct translation in English--the closest single-word definition is 'humaneness.' Basically it is the idea that as a human being it is your duty to look after other people around you. For instance, if your neighbors are struggling, you will help them out in whatever way you can, even if you yourself do not have much. This carries over to the idea of knowing your neighbors. South Africans are horrified when we (Americans) tell them that we don't really know our neighbors back in the US. They ask, "Who's going to look out for you when your house catches fire?" I think that the lack of ubuntu in the US has something to do with the deeply programmed fear of unknown people. As children, we are frequently told to never talk with strangers. There is no word for "stranger" in Zulu--when you are talking about someone you don't know they are simply a "person."
2) Kara Nichha's
Nichha's is perhaps the most democratic, equal opportunity institution I have encountered in South Africa. It is completely vegetarian Indian take-away at unbeatably low prices that is enjoyed by all people regardless of race, gender, or age. I find myself going there at least three times a week because I can always get lunch or dinner with the change in my wallet. Where else can you get a roti roll, biryani tub, or 1/4 bunny chow for $.50? At the beginning of the semester I thought that I would get sick of it after a while, but instead I find that the more I eat it the more I crave it (I even went through withdrawals over semester break). I have a feeling that when I get home I am going to miss Nichha's far more than I miss Mexican food and In N Out right now.
3) Bread Ahead
This is the bakery/cafe in Scottsville that my friends and I have made our second home. Sure the service is kind of slow (as it is at almost all restaurants), but they have incredibly comfortable couches, good pastries and coffee, and a friendly waitress that has learned our orders and even gossips to us about other customers. There is no place at home where I am sure to run into a couple friends AND where we are sure to have the place to ourselves.
4) Natural Beauty
I have become spoiled by being constantly surrounded by beautiful outdoor spaces. Back home it is rare that I get to see anything as stunningly beautiful as the white sandy beaches of the Indian Ocean, the rolling hillsides of the Natal Midlands, or the dramatic peaks of the Drakensberg Mountains. But here I am treated to these sights almost weekly. Day-to-day I am spoiled by beautifully kept grounds everywhere I go, such as around campus. While I think Berkeley is a better institution than UKZN in many ways, the PMB campus is gorgeous and makes Berkeley look pretty shabby.
5) Having Time
I never seem to have time at home. Especially when in school, I seem to be constantly bombarded with work or other commitments, and when I happen to have some free time it's usually not when my friends do. Although classes here are a joke and incredibly frustrating, I must admit that I am thankful for the lighter workload. I have had time to do what I WANT, and so have many of my friends, giving us the opportunity to spend quality time together and do incredible things. Back at home, there is no way that I could go away for an entire weekend without having to do any work like I have done here, a few times.
As I mentioned above, I am not completely sad to have to leave this place. Here are some things that remind me why I have it so good at home:
1) The Lan
I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that the Lan (various computer labs around campus) epitomizes my frustrations with this university. The download transfer rate averages between 1 and 2 kb per second during a weekday. The university connection, which probably has about 1000 computers networked to it, is a mere 2 mb/second. Mom & Dad, your house has about 5 times that much bandwidth. If excruciatingly slow internet weren't bad enough, the computers in the Lan are very poorly networked so people are constantly loading tons of viruses and other junk onto them. At any given time, in a room of forty computers there will be three that students cannot even log on to. This becomes a problem because the Lan computers are always in high demand since most students do not have personal computers. To get onto one of these slow-operating, virus-riddled machines, there is usually a wait. Another nuisance that is slowly alleviating itself as the weather gets cooler is the general smell associated with the Lans. Simply put, Africans do not have the best hygienic standards, and the Lan often has a strong funk which makes spending time there that much more unpleasant. Additionally, the Lans are generally unreliable. Printing credit has to be bought at vending machines located in buildings outside the Lan which cannot be accessed on weekends or at night, and sometimes these machines are broken (like 15 minutes before I had a paper due). And sometimes the security turnstiles do not operate properly. When this happens, rather than have a campus security officer check IDs at a door, they kick everyone out and shut down the Lan until a technician can fix the turnstile (which usually takes a day or two). I also usually get kicked off a computer at least once a week because classes are held in the Lan, so they will kick everyone out for 2-4 hours, exacerbating the overcrowding of the other Lan facilities. I am eternally grateful for having brought my laptop this semester. Although I have to use the Lan for research, I have been able to write my papers in the quiet and privacy of my room, not to mention these blog posts which assuredly would have been much more sporadic and less-detailed had I had to write them in the Lan. What perhaps makes the Lan most frustrating is that the internet has been my primary means of communication, and thereby connection, with life back home. Just today, the university has now denied access to facebook, a site that I use frequently for communicating with friends and sharing pictures. At home I can communicate with friends and family at the drop of a hat, so it is aggravating when I cannot do that here. Next year I will have SO much appreciation for Berkeley's remarkably fast internet connection and vast subscriptions to research archives.
2) Cell Phones
Telecommunication services in South Africa are unbelievably expensive. Cell phone calls (whether to local numbers or other cell phones) are about R6 per minute. That is almost $1/minute!! To give you an idea how ridiculous this is, I can call any landline or cell phone in the US from Skype for only $.02 per minute. The only reasonable way to communicate locally is through text messages (or 'SMS' as it is known here). A text is only 20-50 cents ($.03-.07). It will be nice to be able to talk on my cell phone without thinking that each second on the line is shrinking my bank account.
3) Little to No Public Transport
Within PMB, there is no public transportation. I mean no city buses, no light rail, no nothing. As I have mentioned before, the majority of the population manages to get around by means of kombis (minibus taxis), which work and are relatively inexpensive. But these are largely unofficial and unregulated, so there are no set timetables or stops like there are for city buses, and they do not run after dark. In this way they are somewhat unreliable, but people seem to manage. It will be so nice to have a bus pass again, and to be able to look up bus routes online.
On another note, winter has finally arrived. Over the last month or so it has been getting cooler at night, but staying hot during the day. This weekend the daytime temperatures were in the 80s and 90s. Monday was the first day that it didn’t get out of the 50s during the day and it is now in the 30s at night. This sudden change has managed to catch everyone off guard, including the people from the East Coast. Apparently the whole country is going through a cold spell and there has been snow in most areas--not PMB though because it is located in a basin. Since classes end on Thursday, the Denison girls and I are going down the coast to Oribi Gorge this weekend. Hopefully it will be warm enough to go snorkeling…if not, my back up plan is to swing across the gorge.
This last weekend, Lauren, Mani, and I went to Trustfeed again. This time we were working on the vegetable garden. I learned that I am not conditioned for hard labor. Mani and I gave the grannies a good laugh when we tried to lift a 50kg (110-lb) bag of cement. We managed to move it, but not as deftly as the old grannies. The grannies are also better at digging and lifting water buckets than my 20-year-old self. While many of the kids were diligent little workers, they were definitely less enthused about this activity than ones we have done in the past. That will possibly be my last visit to Trustfeed with Sibambisene since I will be traveling next weekend and exams are the week after. While I am not sure what kind of lasting impact our work there will make, at the very least all of us who participated have a better perspective of what life is like for kids in poor rural communities. My perspective is that there is still much work to be done in South Africa for there to be equality and it will be an uphill battle to acheive it. HIV/AIDS is without a doubt the most significant threat to improving quality of life for the tens of millions of South Africans still living below the poverty line. What is discouraging is that even though everyone knows people who have died from an AIDS-related illnesses, there is still a stigma associated with admitting to being HIV positive and people are still afraid to say that a young person died of tuberculosis or pneumonia BECAUSE they had AIDS. As they say, admission is the first step in realizing you have a problem, and I think many South Africans are still in denial. Everyone knows that HIV/AIDS is a huge problem, but not everyone is changing their behavior.
I am now looking at the end of my semester abroad. In many ways it has been easier than I expected, and in some ways it has been harder. Of course there is always a positive side to everything, and that is that the difficult aspects of life here have given me a new-found appreciation for how things are at home. I was definitely taking many things for granted before I left, and living abroad has given me a fresh perspective on my many privileges.
*Note: I have mostly been exposed to Zulu culture and I do not want to give the idea that this is the only indigenous culture in SA or that they are all the same. South Africa has 11 official languages, nine of which are indigenous--each one representing a different tribal group.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Winding Down
Things are beginning to wrap up around PMB. Although I still have almost two months left in South Africa, the end is now in sight. Those two months break down to just a couple more weeks of class, a few weeks for exams, and a couple weeks of traveling before leaving this beautiful continent. Besides realizing that all of this fun will be ending before I know it, I am also starting to feel that I will be ready to go when the time comes. If you had told me last month that I had to get on the next plane back to the US, I would have been very disappointed. However, I am now starting to feel content with what I have experienced, plus I have growing nostalgia for the way things are back home.
Taking a break from traveling, last weekend we threw a Cinco de Mayo party in Denison. We made salsa, guacamole, and "faux-tillas"--our homemade version of tortillas since decent one's are impossible to come by in the stores. We also made sangria and mojitos...true, these are not Mexican drinks, but Africans don't know the difference.
Last Sunday, Lauren, Jessi, Mani, and I were lucky enough to be on the exclusive guest list for our friend Phindy's birthday dinner. Phindy, Thandeka, and Xolly had us over at their place on the other end of Denison for some home-cooked African food. They made amasi (corn meal and sour milk porridge), ujeqe (steamed bread--by the way, the q is a click), and tripe stew. I didn't try the stew, but reports are it was very good. On a previous visit they had prepared another delicious meal for us of pap (thick corn meal porridge), mashed potatoes, butternut squash, bean stew, and chicken livers. Even Jessi (an occasional vegetarian) who thought she hated chicken livers loved it. Yesterday we had the girls over to teach us how to cook African food, and now I have even more respect for it because it takes so much time and effort. We made all the dishes that we had for Phindy's birthday plus sugar beans (bontshisi). I'm not sure if tripe is kosher, even though it is from a cow, but I'm quite sure that I will never choose to cook it on my own. When you get it you first have to be sure that it is very clean (since it was the stomach of a cow), then you have to boil it for many hours because it is very tough, adding more water every few minutes. Another lovely aspect of cooking tripe is the smell...which also attracts flies. Besides the tripe, I will definitely try cooking the other dishes again. Since the kitchens in Res do not have ovens it was great being able to bake bread on the stove, although it was also a lot of work. All in all, we were cooking for about six hours. I may not be able to speak much Zulu when I get home, but at least I will be able to cook Zulu food. Us Californians have also participated in the cultural food exchange by having the girls over a couple weeks ago for Mexican food. We made beans, rice, fajitas, faux-tillas, guacamole (avocados are finally in season!), and salsa. The girls loved the food, insisting that we are welcome to cook for them every night. We are planning on teaching them to how to cook the dishes later this week.
As far as class go, I am pretty much ready to be done. I am very happy with my decision to stay here for a semester rather than a year. Don't get me wrong, I have loved my time here and would recommend studying abroad to anyone, but at Berkeley I have been spoiled by a higher standard for almost everything. This university has a way of making simple things difficult (i.e. dropping a class, checking email, etc.). Trying to do research is a joke because the library has very limited journal subscriptions, and it seems that most classes are taught at the high school level, so plagiarism is rampant. The one class that remains interesting, albeit frustrating at times, is Ceramics. On Friday we Raku-fired our "tomb guard" pieces. I had made a fish-bird as a sort of dedication to my dead pets, Peppy the cockatiel and Charbroil the goldfish. The Raku technique is specifically for glazing. There is significant variation in the appearance of Raku glazes after firing because it is a very manual process and it is chemically complex in that some glazes undergo oxidation and others reduction, but you never know exactly what will happen. It is also a very dirty process. The pieces are first placed in an outdoor gas-fired kiln to melt the glazes. After about 30 minutes, the fragile glowing pieces are transferred to a brick enclosure where they are covered with sawdust for another 30 minutes. This is when the reduction occurs in some of the glazes as the burning hot pieces suck the oxygen out of the air as well as carbon out of the sawdust. The result is a metallicky finish over the glaze and blackening of the clay that is not covered in glaze. Throwing sawdust on the burning hot pieces created a ton of thick smoke and sent burnt sawdust into the air. It was downright disgusting (after getting home I had to hang my clothes outside to keep them from stinking up my room). I now have an idea of why Ceramics is not offered for credit at many universities in the US--it is too big of a liability. Mind you, our only safety equipment for this whole process were some heat-proof gloves for those handling the pieces--no safety goggles, no aprons, lots of people in sandals. At one point as we were firing up the kiln the gas was on too high so when it got lit there was a loud 'boof'. Still, everyone survived relatively unscathed (with the exception of our lungs), and it was a very interesting technique to learn with beautiful results...I'm just glad I don't have to do it again. That was not the only time I have feared for my personal safety in Ceramics. The week before when the professor was out of town, some older folks were doing a semi-indoors gas firing (conventional kilns are electric), which is very laborious, and from my perspective, quite dangerous because you get flames shooting out from almost all sides of the huge kiln. For whatever reason, the people doing the firing insisted that we stop what we were doing and come watch as they open the kiln door at about 1200 degrees C (that's about 2200F). It was a hilarious sight when everyone went running for their lives as the small room became inferno-like and it felt like our hair would be singed off our heads. For fear of burning my retnas to oblivion I did not look directly into the kiln, but apparently the pieces were so hot they were almost translucent.
At the end of the week we went out to Stagecoach, a bar/restaurant in Scottsville, to celebrate our friend Murray's birthday. We gave him the Twister game left from the 80s party and an In N Out hat, which he wore for most of the night. We also met a few of the only Spanish-speaking people in PMB (seriously, there are almost no Latinos in SA). From Stagecoach, we got rides up to Crossways in Hilton, the only place around that doesn't have a cover charge. Lauren and I rode with a couple guys from Cuba and a girl from Spain. Along the way we listened to Reggaeton which was a nice break from the House music and bad pop that is so common. This was my first time going to Hilton which is about 10 km outside of PMB. To give you an idea of the class divide, if PMB is the South Bay, then Hilton is Palos Verdes. Besides the class divide, there is also a distinct racial divide. Crossways, which is a bar with a wide variety of music set in the entrance of a small hotel, had a completely white clientele (that is until we showed up). As we were walking in, Lauren voiced that she was worried people would give her weird looks. Henry from Cuba assured her that if they did it's because they're inbred. This place made Firkin look diverse. I also found it odd that the bartenders were all black--it was a strange dynamic. Although the music was decent, that is not the sort of place I would choose to go back to.
The next morning, Mani and I were up early and all ready to go to Trustfeed, but when we got to the meeting place only three other people from our group had shown up (a kombi holds 15 people and costs R500 for the day and we were not prepared to pay R100 each). Another, apparently better organized, campus group was to go along with us that day. They had 15 people to fill a kombi, a bunch of food to cook for the kids, and a plan to work on the vegetable garden. In the end we let them go and the few of us from our group decided to stay back as it didn't seem worthwhile with so few of us and for such expensive transport. Instead, Mani and I went into town to the cafe at the Tatham Art Gallery. We perused the bustling street stalls and shops before going to the lovely cafe overlooking Commercial Road. Although PMB on the whole is a diverse town it is very ghettoized. For instance, the downtown area where we were is predominantly black, but after a few months here I am not fazed by seemingly sticking out in a crowd.
Saturday evening, the boys in block B (Amir, Wakeem, and Jacob) hosted an Indian party. It was Bollywood-style, so we dressed up in saris and colorful skirts that we found at the hospice shop. The boys cooked some excellent Indian food: baigan bharta (eggplant curry), aloo palak (potato & spinach), beef curry, spiced rice, raita, and chai. After stuffing ourselves we tried dancing to some Bollywood music which proved challenging because each song is about 10 minutes long, so everyone was quickly exhausted. The dancing degenerated to playing along to the music with some of the crazy instruments Wakeem has acquired while here.
This has now been the longest stretch of time that I have stayed in PMB without any weekend trips (three weeks!). Although PMB is a slow town, there is enough going on to keep me busy and interested for a few weeks...but I will still be ready to leave when the time comes.
Taking a break from traveling, last weekend we threw a Cinco de Mayo party in Denison. We made salsa, guacamole, and "faux-tillas"--our homemade version of tortillas since decent one's are impossible to come by in the stores. We also made sangria and mojitos...true, these are not Mexican drinks, but Africans don't know the difference.
Last Sunday, Lauren, Jessi, Mani, and I were lucky enough to be on the exclusive guest list for our friend Phindy's birthday dinner. Phindy, Thandeka, and Xolly had us over at their place on the other end of Denison for some home-cooked African food. They made amasi (corn meal and sour milk porridge), ujeqe (steamed bread--by the way, the q is a click), and tripe stew. I didn't try the stew, but reports are it was very good. On a previous visit they had prepared another delicious meal for us of pap (thick corn meal porridge), mashed potatoes, butternut squash, bean stew, and chicken livers. Even Jessi (an occasional vegetarian) who thought she hated chicken livers loved it. Yesterday we had the girls over to teach us how to cook African food, and now I have even more respect for it because it takes so much time and effort. We made all the dishes that we had for Phindy's birthday plus sugar beans (bontshisi). I'm not sure if tripe is kosher, even though it is from a cow, but I'm quite sure that I will never choose to cook it on my own. When you get it you first have to be sure that it is very clean (since it was the stomach of a cow), then you have to boil it for many hours because it is very tough, adding more water every few minutes. Another lovely aspect of cooking tripe is the smell...which also attracts flies. Besides the tripe, I will definitely try cooking the other dishes again. Since the kitchens in Res do not have ovens it was great being able to bake bread on the stove, although it was also a lot of work. All in all, we were cooking for about six hours. I may not be able to speak much Zulu when I get home, but at least I will be able to cook Zulu food. Us Californians have also participated in the cultural food exchange by having the girls over a couple weeks ago for Mexican food. We made beans, rice, fajitas, faux-tillas, guacamole (avocados are finally in season!), and salsa. The girls loved the food, insisting that we are welcome to cook for them every night. We are planning on teaching them to how to cook the dishes later this week.
As far as class go, I am pretty much ready to be done. I am very happy with my decision to stay here for a semester rather than a year. Don't get me wrong, I have loved my time here and would recommend studying abroad to anyone, but at Berkeley I have been spoiled by a higher standard for almost everything. This university has a way of making simple things difficult (i.e. dropping a class, checking email, etc.). Trying to do research is a joke because the library has very limited journal subscriptions, and it seems that most classes are taught at the high school level, so plagiarism is rampant. The one class that remains interesting, albeit frustrating at times, is Ceramics. On Friday we Raku-fired our "tomb guard" pieces. I had made a fish-bird as a sort of dedication to my dead pets, Peppy the cockatiel and Charbroil the goldfish. The Raku technique is specifically for glazing. There is significant variation in the appearance of Raku glazes after firing because it is a very manual process and it is chemically complex in that some glazes undergo oxidation and others reduction, but you never know exactly what will happen. It is also a very dirty process. The pieces are first placed in an outdoor gas-fired kiln to melt the glazes. After about 30 minutes, the fragile glowing pieces are transferred to a brick enclosure where they are covered with sawdust for another 30 minutes. This is when the reduction occurs in some of the glazes as the burning hot pieces suck the oxygen out of the air as well as carbon out of the sawdust. The result is a metallicky finish over the glaze and blackening of the clay that is not covered in glaze. Throwing sawdust on the burning hot pieces created a ton of thick smoke and sent burnt sawdust into the air. It was downright disgusting (after getting home I had to hang my clothes outside to keep them from stinking up my room). I now have an idea of why Ceramics is not offered for credit at many universities in the US--it is too big of a liability. Mind you, our only safety equipment for this whole process were some heat-proof gloves for those handling the pieces--no safety goggles, no aprons, lots of people in sandals. At one point as we were firing up the kiln the gas was on too high so when it got lit there was a loud 'boof'. Still, everyone survived relatively unscathed (with the exception of our lungs), and it was a very interesting technique to learn with beautiful results...I'm just glad I don't have to do it again. That was not the only time I have feared for my personal safety in Ceramics. The week before when the professor was out of town, some older folks were doing a semi-indoors gas firing (conventional kilns are electric), which is very laborious, and from my perspective, quite dangerous because you get flames shooting out from almost all sides of the huge kiln. For whatever reason, the people doing the firing insisted that we stop what we were doing and come watch as they open the kiln door at about 1200 degrees C (that's about 2200F). It was a hilarious sight when everyone went running for their lives as the small room became inferno-like and it felt like our hair would be singed off our heads. For fear of burning my retnas to oblivion I did not look directly into the kiln, but apparently the pieces were so hot they were almost translucent.
At the end of the week we went out to Stagecoach, a bar/restaurant in Scottsville, to celebrate our friend Murray's birthday. We gave him the Twister game left from the 80s party and an In N Out hat, which he wore for most of the night. We also met a few of the only Spanish-speaking people in PMB (seriously, there are almost no Latinos in SA). From Stagecoach, we got rides up to Crossways in Hilton, the only place around that doesn't have a cover charge. Lauren and I rode with a couple guys from Cuba and a girl from Spain. Along the way we listened to Reggaeton which was a nice break from the House music and bad pop that is so common. This was my first time going to Hilton which is about 10 km outside of PMB. To give you an idea of the class divide, if PMB is the South Bay, then Hilton is Palos Verdes. Besides the class divide, there is also a distinct racial divide. Crossways, which is a bar with a wide variety of music set in the entrance of a small hotel, had a completely white clientele (that is until we showed up). As we were walking in, Lauren voiced that she was worried people would give her weird looks. Henry from Cuba assured her that if they did it's because they're inbred. This place made Firkin look diverse. I also found it odd that the bartenders were all black--it was a strange dynamic. Although the music was decent, that is not the sort of place I would choose to go back to.
The next morning, Mani and I were up early and all ready to go to Trustfeed, but when we got to the meeting place only three other people from our group had shown up (a kombi holds 15 people and costs R500 for the day and we were not prepared to pay R100 each). Another, apparently better organized, campus group was to go along with us that day. They had 15 people to fill a kombi, a bunch of food to cook for the kids, and a plan to work on the vegetable garden. In the end we let them go and the few of us from our group decided to stay back as it didn't seem worthwhile with so few of us and for such expensive transport. Instead, Mani and I went into town to the cafe at the Tatham Art Gallery. We perused the bustling street stalls and shops before going to the lovely cafe overlooking Commercial Road. Although PMB on the whole is a diverse town it is very ghettoized. For instance, the downtown area where we were is predominantly black, but after a few months here I am not fazed by seemingly sticking out in a crowd.
Saturday evening, the boys in block B (Amir, Wakeem, and Jacob) hosted an Indian party. It was Bollywood-style, so we dressed up in saris and colorful skirts that we found at the hospice shop. The boys cooked some excellent Indian food: baigan bharta (eggplant curry), aloo palak (potato & spinach), beef curry, spiced rice, raita, and chai. After stuffing ourselves we tried dancing to some Bollywood music which proved challenging because each song is about 10 minutes long, so everyone was quickly exhausted. The dancing degenerated to playing along to the music with some of the crazy instruments Wakeem has acquired while here.
This has now been the longest stretch of time that I have stayed in PMB without any weekend trips (three weeks!). Although PMB is a slow town, there is enough going on to keep me busy and interested for a few weeks...but I will still be ready to leave when the time comes.
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