Totsiens: Final Week

As I sit here on my bed on the final night of our program after our final dinner and paper plate awards ceremony, my bags packed, it’s hard to summarize this experience in a few words and even harder to decide on a favorite excursion/activity. The reason why I love the Cape Town program so much is because we were able to learn about South Africa through diversifying our experience - this means we took part in several types of activities, including sightseeing, service work and cultural/historical learning activities.

Cape Town Highlights Week 3:

• Beth Uriel service project continuation
• Robben Island tour
• Table Mountain
• Morning hike to Rhodes Memorial
• Language presentations and Afrikaans sweets tasting
• Hint Hunt (escape room)
• Food Jam
• Final presentations
• Fairy Glen overnight excursion: nature walk (day 1), morning safari/game drive (day 2)
• Final dinner
• Paper plates awards ceremony

Because I could not focus on one single activity, I’ve decided to include the free-verse poem I’ve written for my final project which I had presented yesterday. It basically summarizes the most significant activities on the trip, the emotions I felt and the lessons I’ve taken away from them. The poem is entitled “Lions” and is written in the 2nd person with the usage of the pronoun “you” to show that I am writing to myself. Generally, lions are often characterized as courageous, determined and strong. The poem follows my journey from pre-departure, first impressions to all of our activities, the people we’ve met along the way and the lessons I’ve learned at the end. Ultimately, it makes reference to the complexity and indescribability of South African culture, even by native South Africans. Enjoy!

“Be careful, there are elephants and lions in Africa.

And don’t get Ebola.”

“But Cape Town,” you insist, “it’s Cape Town.”

South Africa, better off than much of the rest of the continent.

But to what extent do you really know South Africa,

beyond Mandela?

beyond apartheid?

Do you know if there are many elephants and lions in South Africa?

Do you know the full story?

Does anyone?

 

Next thing you know

You’re cruising past Johannesburg to the left of the median

The skyline going in reverse

but the sun still setting in the west

And you’re surprised that their highways remind you of home.

 

Goeie môre

The sun rises in the east

And you refuse to emerge from the covers

because winter goosebumps are sure to rise

Your first thought is about the mystery that is South African breakfast

But the women downstairs startle you with their friendly welcome and gentle smiles

This is South African hospitality, say hello

And supersaturate your sentences with please’s and thank you’s.

They say you should have some tea and you agree

“The one that starts with an r, please.”

Next thing you know

There is a pot of steaming rooibos tea to the left of your biscuits and jam

It’s good for the stomach

that has churned from flight

craved a taste of Africa

sunken in the seas between you and your home

But what hasn't sunken in yet

is that you are in Africa

you are at home

you are there.

you are here.

 

There’s no easy way in

There’s no way to sugarcoat

So you step into the world of black and white

And fasten your lenses nice and tight

Mandela’s there but you can’t forget

Tutu

Pieterson

Biko

Sisulu

The names that are all new to you

And the rather expensive price for justice

Have you found lions in Africa yet?

 

Now onto Soweto

You’ve read about townships before

You’ve seen images

Of a poverty-stricken landfill

So that’s how you’ve defined townships

how people have defined Africa

this entire time.

Oh, how wrong we all are

how incomplete.

Soweto is hopeful.

Soweto is hardworking.

Around each corner is opportunity

Even in Kliptown, where

communal porta potties line the path

“illegal connections” adorn the air like streamers

shacks stir up a ruckus of musty claustrophobia.

You feel like you’re crashing and intruding

On the daily dynamic

Did you receive an invitation?

The children outside line up one by one and,

from your hands to theirs,

reach for fluffy dreamy marshmallows, pink and white

No names exchanged

They tip their heads and thank you

And a little boy does a little party trick -

he coaxes you into giving him another with a sly grin.

You’re the guest here,

So help yourself to a gumboot dance

Why don't you try it out?

You notice the smiles on the children’s faces

It sticks out to you

“Starving African children” “poverty-stricken” “destitute”

In other words, a Westerner’s summoning to the “deprived land”

It is not uncommon here for young lips to curl

But outsiders find it a pleasant surprise

And they feel that they are able to bring them out of their supposed despair

Only them

And you are guilty of once thinking the same

You didn't start the party

You’re not the life of it

You just make it brighter.

 

And just as your eyes locked on the coast

The other side of the familiar Atlantic

Don't waste a drop, you’re told

by a small sign in baggage claim

“Cape Town is drought-stricken.”

You begin to panic about 2 minute showers

“And letting the yellow mellow”

And just to make matters worse

There is a such thing as post-apartheid apartheid

the partition a measly strip of road

The Gini is as high as Table Mountain

measures the slippery slope

and counts the meters from bottom to top

sea level to summit

And you are saddened by the fact that

there is nothing you could possibly do

Why is it a problem to us if it’s not our problem in the first place?

---

Your first impact project will be at Beth Uriel

Here is your task:

Paint the house exterior.

Talk with the guys.

Mingle.

It's not such a hard task

But you wonder

What do they have to share with me?

And the other way around

What can you share with them?

He leads you around the home, saying

“There's not much else to see.”

You settle by a table in the computer room

Away from the hubbub next door

You met this person five minutes ago

And he takes over the chat.

A shared intimacy with an American stranger

and a cultural exchange

You do not nod your head every second

You do not interrupt their train of thought

You listen. Intently

Next time you see them

It smells of chemicals and coffee grinds

and sawdust permeated the air

When you are told you are not returning to the House of Light

No goodbyes

A crumbling wall to be painted

The cracked silhouette of a young man to be repaired

You feel unfulfilled.

A few days later you drive by the building

Your eyes catch the sight of ladders propped against that very wall

You could have been there.

 

There is an air of familiarity as you step inside

a Roman Catholic Church

You can't wait to make food for the homeless

As it reminds you of your church back home

Scooping globs of peanut butter and jelly

And stirring pots of soup

that could feed hundreds

Reaching out to hand them a cup

But that is not the task, you are told

You head over to Rondebosch Common

A keyboard intro perks up everyone’s ears

A few seconds elapse and

everyone is dancing to pata pata

And you are twirling your King Protea scepter

Feeling so in control.

There was something about dancing

and talking

and being connected through music and words

and holding hands, rather than

holding cups of soup

that put us on the ground

bring us to the same level

because we are all human

capable of enjoying the same

feeling the same emotions.

 

Amidst the pungent fumes of turpentine and paint and carcinogens

You find refuge in the boys’ ward at Maitland Cottage

You approach Konwi,

The boy who mocks us for treating him like every other child

mocks us for our jumbled Afrikaans

enjoys Lego destruction and

knows all the magic tricks up our sleeve

because he's seen them on TV

He had his operation Thursday morning

And on Thursday you worked outside

You saw him through the window in another ward

Recognized him by the back of his head

His original bed vacant

And without most of the screws in his legs

He went home.

You are drawn to Etrick,

The boy next door

Whose infectious smiles render you powerless

And spirited gestures

You meet Jaydin,

The boy whose powerful play-doh pitches

Speak louder than his mumbled sentences

And their personalities are bright

Brighter than the pinks, blues, yellows and greens

with which we’ve styled their benches and table.

Today, you are Auntie

 

You may be Auntie today

But you have always been a dolphin killer

And there is no excuse for that

Onto Muizenberg

You’ll see colorful houses

eat fish and chips

But first

Here is your trash bag

 

The trip to Langa wasn't exactly

a throwback to Soweto

At Mzansi restaurant, you are

treated to grilled chicken, beef stew, yams

Fascinated by sand paintings

Serenaded by marimbas and a smooth sax melody

Intrigued by the power of TripAdvisor

At Gugas’thebe, you are

impressed by craftsmanship

Paintings, pottery, wire creations alike

And a few steps down through muddy puddles

alongside stray dogs

There are hostels on one side and comfortable homes on the other.

That is the Gini coefficient at its finest.

 

Through the Messiah’s teachings

We learn about the Khoi and San

The Kingdom of Mapungubwe

The Dutch/English tug-of-war

The black/white tug-of-war

We’ve learned of the student protests against Afrikaans in favor of their mother tongues

It is the language of their oppressor

Who asks “Hoe gaan dit met jou?”

When they don’t care at all

We’ve learned about ourselves.

Where we come from.

What we pride ourselves on.

Reputation. Wealth. Social class. Position.

Buzz words that stem from power.

We tour townships.

We bargain for bracelets and woodworks and your culture

to bring home and show our family and friends

We enter residents’ homes.

They see a bus of tourists and look on.

Some mask their faces with a shawl of shame

as the poverty safari comes through

The same would never happen in America.

There is a different kind of power though,

And now it is time for us to say “Amandla.”

Power.

Power to the people.

 

We’ve seen colorful Bo Kaap

A splash of vibrancy among monochromatic society

Devouring savory curry and sugary koeksisters

We’ve seen solemn Robben Island

Where Mandela owed 18 years of life

Braved the battering cape waters

We’ve seen the peninsula at the edge of the universe

Ostriches and penguins by the water

Baboons bearing no shame

We’ve seen the imposing Table Mountain

Heads in the clouds

Dassies scurrying about

 

Of course, there will be things you will miss

Like Sticky Fingers’ cheese fries

And speckled eggs

And sweet chili cheddars

And appletizer

And malva pudding and milk tarts and koeksisters

Especially koeksisters

 

There will be things that are left unanswered

Like why marshmallows here are pink and white

And if the pink ones are flavored differently

 

There will be things that are short-lived

Like your rosewater marshmallow milkshake

Like your stay in the country whose history

is deeply embedded within black and white sheets

 

You can’t deny the presence of lions here

We have met many.

You don’t need to hike to find a lion and its cubs

Nor do you have to visit a zoo

If you are scaling the mountain to see Cecil Rhodes

looking north

doing his imperial gazing

his shadow cast upon the land

Turn around.

Go to Soweto.

Go to Langa.

Go to Maitland Cottage.

Come to Rondebosch Common every week.

Come see courage and determination.

Come see the cubs,

budding and growing in the ways they were raised and the ways they were trained.

 

From DC to CPT and back again.

Now that you know that there are indeed lions in South Africa,

Do you know the full story?

Does anyone?

These past few days especially have been eventful as we stayed in quaint cottages at Fairy Glen Game Reserve in the mountains of Worcester, having parties on my rooftop balcony taking each moment to get to know each other more and gazing at the most stars we have ever seen at once. I could tell that everyone was trying to treasure each moment and make the best out of each second.

The staff, teachers and program leaders at the CIEE Cape Town Global Institute have been so caring and receptive to us and I couldn’t thank them more for making this trip perhaps one of the best experiences of my life. Our program leaders Andrew and Abbey, coordinators Naledi and Candice, teacher Pieter and bus driver Bongi have all played critical roles in ensuring that we get as much out of our time in Cape Town as possible, even going as far as to ordering last-minute program sweatshirts for all of us. Additionally, the 13 other people I’ve met on this program have been such a great source of positive energy to be around, unlike anything I’ve experienced back home. Being able to partake in service learning in a foreign (South African) context is among one of the most unique ways a person can learn to grow as a person. Final presentations was a time of emotional rollercoasters and tears, so I can’t imagine what it will be like tomorrow when we have to part ways with our South African friends, walk out of the Global Institute for the last time and finally with our fellow program mates.

Though the flight to Cape Town to Johannesburg combined with the flight from Johannesburg to Washington, D.C. will be a test of endurance against immobility, I’m positive I will be back (with improved Afrikaans) and hope to reunite with the people I’ve met and encountered on this journey. With that being said, totsiens! Sien jou later!