Reflections of Hannah

The task of writing to others in order to allow them to feel or experience what you, yourself have felt is daunting. No words, pictures or even films can begin to describe the beauty I have seen, the experiences I have had, people I have met or lessons I have learned in the month I have been here. South Africa is a place that must be witnessed and discovered first hand. However, I will try my best to describe some of my observations and lessons I have learnt through just being here and also through my internship at Sonke Gender Justice Network. 

Before coming to this incredible country, I was informed of something called “South African time”. Like most things I heard about prior to my arrival, I could not grasp the true meaning of this concept until coming here. This concept was explained to me as a slower pace in which people live by in South Africa. I understood this to mean that people were often late and spent less time doing work, however, I was greatly mistaken.

I have come to discover that South African time is a way of living in the moment and being aware of what you are doing and feeling, while understanding your place and meaning in relation to where you are (by taking the time to do so).

Being here and experiencing this time makes me realize that, in the US, things seem so rushed. The pervasiveness of technology creates an environment where people are never truly engaged in any place they are. There are always other things to plan, other people to contact, etc. It is somewhat rare for people to take time to evaluate their feelings and place or purpose in the world, or just to appreciate the positive things in life and what they are doing in the moment. I believe that not doing so contributes to a sense of sadness and emptiness.

From my point of view, South Africans, in general, seem happier. The phrase “money doesn’t buy happiness” is often said, but is rarely truly believed. For me, being here is proof that this statement is true. The hardships that exist here are quite extensive. I have seen poverty here to an extent that I never could have imagined. The prominent issues and harsh realities faced of gender-based violence, HIV and AIDS, etc. are extremely prevalent. Simultaneously, there is a sense of community and faith existing here, even in the poorest areas. Many of the South Africans I have met and heard about have had an overwhelming social awareness and good sense of their place in society- something I do not recognize from home. Vast amounts of people have very little for themselves and have lost so much, but are still willing to work for the rights and health of others: a sight, which is truly inspiring.

I must make it clear, however, that I do not intend to romanticize poverty and say that people are all happy here no matter the circumstances. To think that would be ignorant and inaccurate. In essence, I have observed that, by and large, South Africans are able to appreciate the things they are blessed with and they often utilize their abilities in a way that is positive and constructive. In addition to this, many have strong and genuine faith in, as well as a strong dedication to, social transformation.

The NGOs here that I have visited and heard about are really impressive. I have only interned at Sonke Gender Justice Network for two weeks, nevertheless I have found my experiences there extremely rewarding thus far. Everyone in the office has been so welcoming and has taken a significant amount of time and effort to incorporate Steph and I into their daily routine.

On our first day of work, we were introduced to, and included in, the weekly meeting at Sonke. The weekly meeting serves as a notable example of South African time and the way in which it works. Although there is a methodical way of conducting the meeting, there is ample time given to address each staff member’s experiences, problems and challenges (personally and in their specific projects of work). Also, at the end of each meeting there is an evaluation list made of the positives and deltas (changes to be made) that people feel about the meeting that has just occurred. I really enjoyed this meeting and the style in which it was held. The meeting style takes a while to conduct, yet accomplishes a great amount. The meetings strengthen the connection and productivity of the staff members by allowing them to intertwine their personal and work lives, and offer advice to one another.

On our first day of work, we were also trusted with the task of writing a press statement on the recent appalling and sexist comments made by ANCYL leader, Julius Malema (concerning the Zuma rape case).  To trust new interns with such a task was encouraging and was a challenge that we were excited to undertake. It turns out that once the statement went through some serious editing and was finally released, the case against Malema was taken to the Equality Court. The press statement and case ended up making national news.  Steph and I were extremely excited to hear about this and realize that we could really take part in raising awareness.

Before coming here, I strived to live in the moment and be happy in what I was doing. I was looking for a sense of purpose and something that I could feel strongly about. I have found all of these things in Cape Town and I am truly excited for and look forward to the experiences to come!

Hannah & Emily G.

Reflections of Dan

Once I heard that one of our assignments was the occasional blog post I began to try to search out different things that would be worthy of an interesting post. Lucky for me in the past few days I’ve had several occurrences that would be post worthy. This consists of going on my first activist march on Friday which was hosted by the Social Justice Coalition as well a braii that Vernon hosted last week. I would first like to explain exactly what it’s like to have a braii after living with 13 girls for 3 ½ weeks. First off, a braii is a roast which is relatable to a BBQ except it’s a slightly slower process and cooked over charcoal rather than gas. Wood is more traditional for cooking but much slower and since we were all hungry and wanted to eat within the next few hours Vernon threw the coals into the pit.

The trip that I’m on is widely based around gender issues and women’s rights. Therefore, I understand that by all means men and women are equally capable of grilling some nice juicy red meat, but I also appreciate the braii tradition that it’s the man’s job. Vernon brought Kevin and I aside and showed us the proper technique of spicing the meat up before throwing it strategically on the grille. At this point I was excited to flex my man muscles a bit further by inquisitively asking Vernon if it was traditional to drink a beer while grilling. This resulted in an immediate expiration of the 6 pack. After spicing up the lamb and chicken with the necessary salt and pepper, Vernon led us to the grille and let us pack the lamb on the right, the chicken on the left, and the sausages in the middle. I’m a big fan of my veggies and this has been reinforced by the fact that 4 of the girls on the trip are vegetarians. Yet, I have to admit, seeing all that meat wedged onto the grille as I sipped on my refreshing beer really got me excited and pumped up. I finally had the opportunity to get out all those hormones that I was once able to release during high school wrestling. Vernon showed us the basic routine of maneuvering and flipping the meat. When I asked him how he knew when to flip it he responded, “While braiing you only consult yourself.”

This got me a bit more riled up and added on to my already masculine glow that was a mix between joy and sweat. Vernon took a step back and gave us the reigns to controlling the meat tossing. After immersing myself in 15 minutes of straight braiing action, I took a step back and looked around. In the living room were the girls enjoying themselves and relaxing, Marita was outside with the other women of the house telling stories, and I was left alone in front of the braii. I took a deep breath and realized how relieving it was to be in charge of a hefty chunk of red meat. Kevin and I averaged it out to be around 15 pounds – 6.8 kg. Vernon came back with a remaining 3 minutes before the meat was ready and showed me the last trick to a delectable braii. Marinate the meat in Jimmy’s (braii sauce), flip it around a few more times, then chow down. Everyone was exceedingly hungry at this point and before we knew it the meat had gone only leaving a few stray sausages. But I was quick with my hands, and managed to score a few key chicken breasts and some tender lamb. To my delight, Vernon then heaved out another meat filled tray soon after. He left this batch solely up to me while he left to go do other important things. I felt like I was given a golden opportunity to yet again prove my manliness so I nursed a beer in one hand, moved the meat around with my other, and somehow continued to scarf down my meal despite the lack of free hands. I also learned some Afrikaans slang and joined in with the group on a karaoke party with the Rock Star videogame. Overall, it was an invigorating, challenging, and learning experience and I thank Vernon immensely for teaching me the ways of the braii!

On to the next experience that happened around 11 A.M. Friday. Prior to Friday, my first day at TAC, which is my internship, I was basically forgotten about. However, this changed when I was adopted by the Social Justice Coalition. I began the mobilization process of getting the media aware of the upcoming Arms Deal March via phone calls and emails. Here’s a quick summary of the Arms Deal. Ten years ago the government made a deal involving 50 billion rand for arms and weaponry that was deemed unnecessary. This deal occurred because many levels of government, including the top, were most likely corrupt. Therefore, there was a huge sum of money that was taken away from important endeavors and spent on cheap weaponry. The march was about, “demanding an independent judicial commission of inquiry into the Arms Deal. We want corrupt contracts cancelled, so that money still owing on those contracts can be diverted to improving service delivery and providing South African citizens with things that actually ensure their safety and security” (taken from the emails I sent out).

Friday morning involved a frantic marker search to make signs. Thanks to the splendid art work of Emily G, Emily A, Michelle, Faina, and Steph O, we were ready to march well supplied with domineering signs. At the house we split up with a few of the other girls who went to the official opening of parliament. The six of us ended up leaving a bit later than expected and thought we were lost because I was unsure of where the march started once in Cape Town. However, we luckily found it just in time to hop in line and grab some free T-shirts. I began the march a bit awkwardly being unsure of exactly how to act. This was quickly changed when I noticed the enthusiastic but laid back attitude of the crowd. It consisted of many smaller groups of people leading chants in Xhosa. I chimed in loudly trying unsuccessfully to match the foreign words. Regardless of my failure, it was fun to belt boisterously. We were eventually stopped by the police a few blocks from Parliament. At this point several different speakers, such as the President of the University of Cape Town and a few of the main people at TAC, led inspirational speeches to the crowd. Even though I have never protested before in my life, I can understand the reasons why it’s addicting. A mob mentality mixed with some loud cheers is always a good time. They’re also free shirts!

That’s a long synopsis of some of the most interesting things that have occurred in the past few days. If you had enough drive to get through this painstakingly long blog I commend you. Other than that, Cape Town is terrific and adios!

~~~~~~~~~~~~
you can read more about the demonstration at
http://www.uct.ac.za/dailynews/?id=6943



Marching orders: Vice-Chancellor Dr Max Price (right) was among hundreds of Social Justice Coalition marchers who protested outside Parliament on Friday.

Reflections of Stephanie

It has nearly been a month since we’ve touched down in South Africa and I still cannot believe we’re here! There have been a number of significant changes in my life since I have arrived. With so many new experiences it is important to take the time to reflect upon them. Now, we have a blog to express those thoughts…perfect, right? In theory yes, but I find myself at a loss for the right words. As most of my roommates have previously explained, there is no way to truly describe how we feel about this beautiful place, but also like my roomies, I will make an attempt. So, here it goes…

Before leaving for Cape Town, a number of people asked me a variety of questions. The most popular question being the most obvious: are you excited? The second question: are you nervous? And finally, the more complicated: are you scared/why did you choose Africa? At the time I answered yes to all of those questions, of course I was exited, nervous, and scared. However, what I am actually excited, nervous and scared about are not at all in accordance with my initial expectations. In this blog, I will answer each of those questions again from a new perspective.

Am I excited?
It has been the unforeseen details that have made me fall in love with this place. Just a few include: being woken up by the cool breeze through our bedroom window in the morning, glancing up at the massive shadows of the mountains as we drive back from town at night, getting on an overcrowded minibus taxi alone and ending up all the way in Bellville (well past my destination), or my favorite, being referred to as “mami” by some of the older women and men in the community. While climbing Table Mountain, bungee-jumping, and cage-diving are clearly exciting activities, they are also expected to be so. Being in South Africa has taught me to pay attention to those little details because those are the quirks that make our experiences unique. To answer the question: Yes, I am excited because we have so much to look forward to for both obvious and hidden reasons.

Am I nervous?
I was nervous about missing home, living with fourteen people and cooking for myself. All of those continue to challenge me (especially the cooking part), but my nerves really kick in when I see the economic and gender disparities play out in our day-to-day lives. During our orientation week we took a trip to Robben Island. As soon as we got off the ferry we were on the waterfront enjoying our lunches in one of the wealthiest areas in Cape Town. For me, that was when the economic contrast between the residential areas on the waterfront compared to those in the Khayelitsha Township became unsettling. It may seem odd that I felt nervous, but when the injustices were staring me directly in the face I wanted to fix it some how and I was nervous that that may never happen. I’m nervous about how unfair and unforgiving the world that we live in can be. I’m nervous that I’m going about these issues the wrong way. Despite my nerves, I am not going to sit back and watch. Instead of trying to save South Africa and solve all the problems in the world I’m going to take Vernon’s advice and make a contribution where I can.

Am I scared? Why Africa?!
Some of my friends were shocked to hear that I chose to study abroad in South Africa. From their perspective, I understand why they would be concerned. In the U.S., the media uses images to depict life in Africa that range from the indigenous National Geographic magazine cover to the front page of a newspaper after a terribly tragic incident. Unfortunately, these ignorant assumptions are made and I have to confess that I was scared to an extent. However, in the same way that people travel to the States and realize that New York and LA are nothing like they’re portrayed in the movies, I quickly adjusted. Africa is by far the most amazing place I’ve travelled to thus far. The people here are unbelievably friendly and ready to help. One of the first days we arrived, an artist was selling his beadwork on the side of the road and even after we declined his figurines and bowls he helped us cross the busy intersection. That is just one of the many reasons why I’m so glad that I chose to come here. A simple interaction such as that makes me realize that life is less about the clothes we wear or the money we make and more about the company we keep and the time spent with them.

I am very happy to be here and I am looking forward to spending time with everyone here! ☺

Reflections of Rachel

I have not read any of the blog entries that the other students have written -- partly because I keep forgetting, but mostly because I wanted my entry uninfluenced by the insights of others. I was scared that if I did read them, I would be afraid to talk about what the others had done. Then I realized when I started writing this that my view of what I have experienced here is completely different from every other person on this trip. On that note, I am going to write whatever I please, whether or not it is the same as what others have written, so I’m sorry if this is repetitive. ☺

My experiences here have been, simply put, amazing. My mind can barely even comprehend what I have seen, heard, tasted and done. I have noticed that even while my mind is racing beyond my control with all the things I have seen, I am at peace here. I feel that even though I am obviously out of place in many situations, I am very comfortable. I think that any person could feel at home here, simply because of the friendliness of the people and the atmosphere. When I was preparing to leave for the semester I was not nervous about the plane ride, or the living situation, or simply being in another country. I was nervous about whether or not I could be as happy here as I am at home. I can say wholeheartedly that I am extremely happy here and I could not imagine studying abroad in any other program. Honestly, there has not been a single time I can think of when I have been legitimately upset while I have been here. Being here is teaching me to live in the moment, not three weeks ahead of now like I do back in the states. By doing this I am also learning to truly appreciate the possessions I own and the people I know. It is refreshing to truly appreciate the life that I am living here, the lives of those around me and the lives of the ones I love.

I am interning at Christel House South Africa, and I am extremely happy with my placement. I was immensely terrified when I learned I would be working with high school students until the primary school began a week later. Why was I so scared of these kids? All high school students are scary. Period. They are even scarier when you come in not knowing anyone at the school and knowing that these children speak a language you have no experience with whatsoever and could easily take advantage of that fact. My fears were eased when Jill and I arrived on the first day of our internship and every single person who worked at Christel House greeted us with open arms and warm hearts. They wanted to know everything about my life back in the states and if I was having fun in Cape Town. So far so good, I thought, these people like me and I like them, now all I have to do is face the kids. When I walked into one of the classrooms I was pleasantly surprised when I was reminded so much of where I went to school, Windham High School. The kids are very energetic and want to learn while they are there, but also want to talk to their friends and have fun. I could see some of my friends in the kids and I was very happy knowing that I can relate to them on some level, even if it is a trivial one. As the first week went on I felt more comfortable around the high school students and began to like them a lot, especially when they would ask me questions and simply want to talk to me. Even though I really like the high school kids, I have always wanted to work with the young children.
Yesterday, Wednesday the fourth, I got my wish. I will be working with Grade R (which is kindergarten) or Grade 1 from now on. These kids have to be the craziest and cutest group of five year olds I have ever met. I have fallen in love with them after being with them for only a single day. It is hard to deny them when all they want to do is hug you and play with you. It is also quite distracting when right after they did something naughty they immediately hug you and your heart melts. How do you stay mad at that? I am so incredibly proud to be working at an organization that is providing a full and free education for these children. For those who do not know, Christel House gives extremely impoverished children a free education, meals, transportation to and from school, and a chance to change their lives.

Christel House is doing amazing things for these children and giving them opportunities that would otherwise be impossible. It is hard for me to leave these kids at the end of the day and go back to my large house and eat dinner, when many of the kids will go back to a one room shack and go to sleep hungry. I wish I could do more then help at their school three days a week. Then again, it is inspiring knowing that these kids are breaking free from the life they would otherwise be destined to live. Christel House is building a new school and it is going to be extraordinary. The vision is that every classroom will have its own garden so children will learn to grow their own food, every student will have their own instrument, there will be computer labs available to all the students and many more opportunities. I cannot begin to explain the excitement that is buzzing around the old school by both the teachers and the students. It is a very important time for Christel House and for myself. I get to go through this huge transition with these amazing people. I am speechless by how honored and lucky I am to be a part of this unique opportunity.

I do not know what else to say about my experiences so far here in Cape Town. I cannot be happier here and I love everyone I have met. I have not forgotten about those people I love at home, that would be impossible. This trip could not have been possible if it wasn’t for my family and friends that supported and urged me to go through with it. I could not thank them enough for their encouragement and love.

 If anyone would like to read a little more about Christel House, the following link contains a short article about: http://www.sagoodnews.co.za/education/christel_house_a_gem_in_sa_education_.html

Reflections of Cassidy

When I first signed up to go to South Africa I was very hesitant for many reasons. First, I had never been that far away from my family for such an extensive period of time. Secondly, I was used to having my own room and being the only child in the house. So living with fourteen other people was going to be a very new and strange experience. However, I was determined to be strong and allow myself to have a great experience. The night we arrived I was feeling great about being in such a beautiful country and was eager to learn. Then the next night arrived and I was not feeling as cheerful. I could feel the homesickness hitting me from nowhere. All at once it came over me and I was not looking forward to the weeks ahead. Luckily I found that with each new night, and getting to know everyone better, I was slowly climbing out of the slumps and was feeling very optimistic.

The entire orientation week was absolutely amazing. I learned things that I would have never learned back in the States and this was a sad thought for me. I was beginning to realize just how much our schools were not teaching us. Our education system focuses on teaching us our own history, which granted is important, but I feel that it is equally important to know the history of the world that surrounds us. It continues to amaze me when a Capetownian will engage me in a conversation about U.S. politics. They know so much about what is currently happening in our country and I still do not have a true grasp on the politics here. It makes me realize how much more there is to learn and that I have the capabilities of educating myself on these issues.

Once I started my internship at Black Sash, a non-profit organization for human rights, I began to have a truly amazing time. Now I was feeling like I was going to make a difference and change the world. It was so fascinating to see the things that these companies accomplish and to know that you are now a part of that. During the first week they already had us writing briefs and researching for the upcoming State of the Nation Address. Never before had I been entrusted with so much responsibility, so quickly. I felt like an equal rather than a student who was there to do the tedious work. I also enjoy getting to work every morning. I have to take a mini-bus taxi into town and they are the best way to travel, with lively music and a no-nonsense driver. Working in the city also has its perks. I am able to explore the heart of the city and a short five minute walk from work takes me to the best bakery ever, Charly’s. It may seem as if I am exaggerating, but I promise you I am not. It is so good that my fellow intern and I have decided to designate every Tuesday “Charly’s Tuesdays”. Hopefully this will not cause a severe increase in our weight. But even if it did, I do not think it would matter. I am living in the moment, in Cape Town, in complete bliss.

Reflections of Jordan

I had been planning on doing this study abroad program for over a year before I actually got on that plane a few weeks ago. I knew just about everything about it, stalked a few people who had done it before, and really thought that I knew what I was going to be in for when I got here.

But as these things tend to go, nothing is like I had expected, al the things I was worried about are simple and the things I never thought would bother me are the weirdest to deal with (no good pickles). What I didn't expect though, was to have such a hard time believing that I was really in Africa and that this was really the life that I am leading. Even as we were loading our suitcases into the van on the way to the house once we landed, there was a similar sentiment in the group along the lines of, " No way is this Africa, I mean, its warm, but this can't really be Africa".

I've found myself explaining things away and associating them with places I've been. Downtown is basically New York City, Table Mountain is essentially just New Hampshire, the Commons could be in upstate New York, the backyard is basically in Florida, and even Cape Point felt a lot like Arizona. Well, Cape Point felt like Arizona until a baboon (seriously, a baboon!!) ran out and stole someone's sandwich. It took until that day, almost the end of orientation week for me to believe for even a second that I was actually in Africa.

Once I started being able to admit to myself that I was really here I could start noticing and falling in love with all of the eccentricities of this amazing country. Yesterday morning, a horse and buggy plodded past the house right behind a brand new toyota. The other day at work I spent some time looking around for a flower that had just been found that was previously thought to be extinct. Here in South Africa, we have proved that it is not. I don't know of anywhere else in the world where I could ever have this kind of range of experiences, in 3 weeks none the less.

I think that the most memorable "Africa" experience though is the minibus. Actually here it's just called a taxi, and what we Americans would think of as a taxi is called a "metered taxi" and you have to call for them and its quite different in price and life experience. There are actually another type of cab that we are fondly calling "sketchy cabs", and they are the kind that don't appear to have any kind of official license but wait outside of bars to drive you home. Now, I know that Chelsie talked about the minibuses in her entry, but my daily commute to work involves a roughly 45 minute ride there and back, so they've been on my mind.

I think that that first thing to know about minibuses is that everyone will make you think that they are some sort of crowded and terrifying experience, which makes you look at them entirely different that you would if you just saw them for the van that they are. Its hard to explain the general fear of the minibus that is instilled in you by stuffy white people who have likely never taken one in their lives. But once you realize that you are going to have to go to work and you are just going to have to get over it and get on the damn bus, you can be sure that you will see a whole side of Cape Town that you can be sure that the stuffy white lady never will notice through the windows of her BMW.

In the most practical, literal, sense, a minibus is a van with 15 seats and a driver. They come in a range of colors (mostly white and red), ages (from 30 years to 10 minutes old), and also in number of passengers required before it is determined to be "full". There is a sign in the front window that can be flipped one way or other and they run back and forth between hubs all day. (I take the one that goes from Mowbray to Belleville) There is a driver, and occasionally a "money guy". The prices are all quite cheap and its the most practical and affordable form of transport for the majority of Cape Town residents. For example, my ride is about 45 minutes, basically across the city (which is gigantic) and it costs R8. With the exchange rate what it is, thats about 80 cents. I google image searched a minibus taxi and got this, its not perfect, but it surely is a minibus. This picture actually comes up as well, and while its a poor image of exactly what a minibus is, its a much better impression of what a minibus is like, http://sarocks.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/mini-bus-taxi-owner.jpg

To get on a minibus is not hard, in fact, walking down the street its almost hard to not be convinced that you should surely be on a taxi going somewhere. Drivers will flash their lights and beep the horn, you will not miss them. If there is a cash guy, he also serves as a traveling, shouting advertisement for the end location of the taxi. (That is if you can understand the accent, Belleville sounds like be-Eh-vuh) In any case, there will be no doubt that a minibus is on the way and that they would love nothing more than to transport you somewhere. Its like getting a cab in New York, just stick your arm out or just think about wanting to get on and they'll know. So really its nothing like getting a cab in New York, actually. When I get home I'm going to wonder why cab drivers aren't dying for me to get in.

Once you get on, its a pretty standard van, (in varying states of falling apart, sometimes literally, as Hannah, Dan, and Steph O know well) there are 4 seats in the back and 3 in every other row. However, the minibus is not full until there are 4 in each row, and if its the type with an aisle, you would be surprised as how many people you can fit in that aisle. I heard this from Ben, our RA, and I don't doubt for a second that there have been stories of mini buses that have flipped over and everyone in it is still snugly seated after the roll.

When you want to get off the bus, you say "Thanks" or "Thank you, driver" and he will pull over and if you are seated in the back you begin the arduous process of crawling over 12 other people to go to work. Its a bit sweaty, sometimes it smells a little funky, and you always leave with a good story about some crazy person or situation. (Today my taxi driver got pulled over and we spent 20 minutes on the side of the road waiting for his ticket to be issued)

This is the technical end of what happens on a minibus, but there is no way to explain the feeling inside a minibus taxi. Its like the feeling you get in South Africa as a whole, at cafes and walking down the street, it can only be felt and experienced. No words or images could ever do it justice. I would like to suggest at this moment that everyone reading this hop a plane immediately and take the minibus right over to the house. Take the Mowbray line.

Reflections of Emily G

When I was preparing to come to South Africa, I was advised to have as few expectations as possible because the trip undoubtedly would be different than anything I had experienced before. Since arriving, I would agree that this place is indescribable and the only way to explain our experiences to others would be to bring them here and show them where we have visited and who we have met. I truly believe we are in the most incredible place to have a study abroad experience because we are at the crossroads of incredible natural beauty, a new democracy and deep-set race and gender inequality. We have had the opportunity to visit the sandy beaches at the foot of a series of mountains, and to climb the magnificent Table Mountain. We have eaten at amazing restaurants with cuisine ranging from Ethiopian to South African dishes to classic fish and chips. We live comfortably and sometimes when walking downtown can forget that we are not in a city in the states. However, I think this trip’s true learning experience will be when we focus on the problems that this country still faces with its history of apartheid, struggle with human rights and gender equality and with its extreme poverty overlapping with a progressive, modern city.

I am working with Michelle at an organization titled Olive Leaf, formerly associated with the global group Hope Worldwide, which works to fight HIV and AIDS in the township Khayelitsha. Before coming to Cape Town, I considered myself well educated about the epidemic as a result of my interest in public health and participating in a college course that focused entirely on the disease. However, I am quickly realizing after my first week at the internship that it is impossible to understand such a problem until you are immersed into the environment and culture in which the virus is spreading rapidly. Not to say that HIV is not still a huge problem in the United States, but here it is obviously more prevalent and much more out in the open. About one fifth of all South Africans are HIV positive, and this is closely tied to the poverty and lack of women’s rights in the area. AIDS clinics and advertisements about getting tested seem to be abundant in the townships but the rate of infection has yet to drop, and this has to do with the complexity of the disease.

After meeting people at the office, hearing their stories, going to the homes of people very sick with the virus and visiting several clinics in Khayelitsha, I am beginning to see some of the huge barriers the country must overcome to lower the incidence rate. Abuse of women in these areas is extremely common and women often do not have the voice to make men use protection. Michelle and I were amazed when reading the statistics that Olive Leaf provided us, as we learned that in this township 2 of every 3 women’s first sexual encounters is forced, a reality that is hard to fathom. There is also a huge stigma associated with the virus, which complicates the matter even more because people infected become isolated from their communities. When I initially thought about these problems, I questioned why more of these women did not take advantage of the women’s shelters and move out. However, if these women decided to move out, they have no money, no marketable job skills in a country with a 40% unemployment rate, no place to live and usually several children to support. In order to tackle the epidemic, people must not only provide resources for prevention, testing and treating, but also to educate and work with both men and women in regards to their views of relationships and the treatment of women. One story that resonated with me was when one woman told us about when she found out she was HIV positive soon after high school, which kicked her out when she became pregnant, and she told the man she had been sleeping with. She told Michelle and I how he could not care less and he later told her that he knew before sleeping with her that he had HIV but did not tell her because he wanted to have control over her. Hearing this story from a woman who had been through more than I can possibly begin to explain, put a face to the epidemic. It was the first time for me that the issues were not completely abstract, and was one of those experiences that can never be learned in a book. I will not fully process this or any other story we have heard for a long time as it is such an emotional and intense subject, but I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to come over and learn and be more aware of such problems and share my experiences with others back at home.

I also am learning a lot about the organizations that help fight HIV, and the whole other set of problems they face. Many nongovernmental organizations in South Africa are extremely under funded and the government has unfortunately taken the position of denial about the breadth of the HIV epidemic. Olive Leaf formerly was part of a religious organization Hope Worldwide, and broke away last November for several reasons and is dealing with trying to get enough money and resources to continue growing. Michelle and I spent the first day of the internship cutting and pasting pieces of paper into books that were going to be donated to schools, and left early because we used up all the glue and they could not find anymore. At our house meeting that evening, our RA Ben pointed out that it not only are we learning about fighting the AIDS epidemic but also about the monetary challenges these organizations face as they couldn’t even provide enough glue for us to complete the task at hand.

I have also become more aware of whom funding comes from and how this affects the effectiveness of the programs. Olive Leaf receives a substantial amount of funding from the United States government and thus for the past decade has had to use this money to stress abstinence in its prevention campaign. While I am sure that is not the only reason Olive Leaf tends to be more conservative in their approaches to fighting HIV, it is frustrating to see how the United States does not understand the reality of South Africa and that when women struggle to have so few rights, abstinence just is not realistic. However because the United States has the monetary resources the organization must comply to a lot of conditions that lessen the effectiveness of their efforts. Witnessing some of the effects of this has made me question the worldwide effort to fight the spread of HIV or really to fight against poverty in general, and how much of the money we pour into these efforts is probably wasted. I feel like many governments and international organizations have more of the resources, but each country and community is so unique that giving money to the community based organizations that understand the intricacies of these problems would be more successful. However in South Africa, these are the organizations that struggle to realistically have enough resources to carry out their programs.

While I reflect upon what I have learned in my internship in the first week, I can only imagine how much I will learn over the course of our stay. I think just as much learning and excitement comes from all the other activities I have done such as climbing Table Mountain and living in a house with fourteen other people. Whatever expectations I had have already been surpassed and I cannot wait to experience and learn new things everyday.

Reflections of Faina

Last Saturday our group of 15 and Marita were determined to see a performance at the Baxter Theatre, which is connected with the University of Cape Town. This day started with miscommunication and changes of plans but ended with something amazing. In the morning we all decided we were going to see Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” at 8pm. We looked for the prices online and saw that we did not get a student discount because it was a Saturday. We also decided we would buy tickets early as to have seats reserved when we got there. While I was in the process of collecting money someone told me that they called the theatre and they told him that we did get a discount if we just showed up 30 minutes early for the show. So we did not buy the tickets in advance but just waited until night time.

At 6:30pm we all got ready and walked over to the Theatre which is on Main Road. However, at the ticket booth they told us that not only was there no discount but that “The Tempest” was sold out! This news prompted most of our group to go back home, leaving Michelle, Marita and I to find a play that was not sold out. Thankfully there was one showing at the same time: “Tshepang.” We bought the tickets and waited for the time to enter the theatre.

When we got to the floor where the theatre was located we entered and took our seats in the second row. This theatre was very small and the seats were all close together. Although I had a seat in the middle section and Marita and Michelle in the right section we still sat directly next to each other. This made the performance more personal. We did not know what to expect, or what the show would be about. While reading the pamphlet about the show I saw that the theme would be infant rape. This took me aback as I did not expect it and I was anxious to know the plot.

The stage was set up with a bed on the left with statues all around. In the center was a pile of what looked like sand and on the right were miniature replicas of township houses. The piece began with a woman named Ruth sitting on the pile of sand rubbing a cloth continuously on the sand. There was also a man with her and he would narrate the story. He began by talking about his early life and the culture that surrounded his town. He told a story of how him and his friends, when they were younger, would pay to have sex with a girl and also how a woman had a baby but left it to him to care for while she went to Cape Town. He explained how his friends would mock him and call him a “Sissie” because he would care for the little girl and do everything for her. Throughout the plot stories unraveled that tried to show the social problems that culminated and evolved into a culture of abuse and violence. In this instance it became evident that the women were looked at as the only possible care giver for a child and that a man is mocked and shamed if he takes this role. Later the woman who left the child came back to reclaim her after several years and he could do nothing but return her after he practically raised her.

As he continued he described the story of Ruth, whom he always liked. He said of how she dated a man and one night she went out drinking with her friend and left her 9 month old child with her boyfriend. The boyfriend raped the young baby and left it outside. When someone bumped into the baby there was huge commotion and soon the press, news and everyone else came to the town. It became a big drama when at first it was said the child was raped by six men. When this was found to be false and Ruth confessed that it was her boyfriend all of the blame went on her. People accused her of being a bad mother and not taking care of the baby. No one blamed the man or even talked extensively about him. This shows how the blame is placed on the woman who is really the victim of a violent and abusive man. Instead of trying to counsel and comfort her, the community where she lives and the news surrounding her charged and bashed her. She was shunned and the baby was taken away until she can “grow out of the trauma.”

The narrator expressed that Ruth has not said a word for the three years that has passed since the incident, and that they live there now in shame and sadness. Ruth is waiting for her baby to return, something, the man says, is probably never going to happen. “It is possible, I suppose for the baby to return. So she waits here and hasn’t said a word for three years,” he says. He felt sorry for her and decided to remain by her side. The man explained that their community was raped a long time ago, meaning that the dilapidation and culture of violence has been instilled long before this rape. He recalls when a reporter approached him and asked intrusively, “Where were you?” He exploded back, “Where were YOU?!” He made me realize that these rapes are the responsibility of society and can be ended once communities are improved and the roles of men and women changed. At the end of the play Ruth stands and looks at the audience, with her ragged clothes, hopeless expression and empty cradle tied to her back and whispers, “Tshepang,” the name of her young child.

What was interesting is that the play was in English with excerpts in Africaans which we could not understand. This shows that the theatre going community is fluent in both languages. After the show Ruth and the man exited and we were able to meet them. This performance evoked great emotion from all of the audience and we stood around them amazed at how different Ruth looked in regular clothes. This play was written to depict the 20,000 infant rapes that happen in South Africa every year. It was a fictional account based on real events to show the diverse issues surrounding this horror. The effect was incredible and I was thankful that “The Tempest” was sold old and we were instead able to witness such a significant performance that taught me something real about South Africa.

Faina & Michelle at Companys Garden

Reflections of Steph O

Obama’s inauguration marked a day in history that we will never forget. After watching the inauguration with many American’s and non-Americans at the Library, a few of us decided to head to Long Street for a night of Celebration. When we arrived to Long Street, I was taken back with the amount of people who were also celebrating this historical day. It seemed as though the entire world was waiting for this “change.” As I heard older generations express their excitement for Obama, I began to understand that yes, change is possible. It baffled my mind to imagine what it must have felt like to finally witness a day that some have been waiting for since the 1960’s.  

I envisioned the civil rights movement and the struggle that many Americans fought in the 960’s and 1970’s, and I began to make many connections to the struggle that was waged here in South Africa, at the end of Apartheid just 15 years ago. Hearing first hand stories about the apartheid struggle inspired me in a way that no history book could ever do. The possibility of transformation that prevailed so sincerely in their minds – both then and now – ignited my own optimism and hope.

At one of the restaurants, The Neighborhood, where we had dinner that night, I met a couple of UCT medical students. The topic of conversation quickly progressed to the excitement revolving around Obama, as soon as they learned that we were American. I was surprised at their curiosity towards my thoughts and feelings regarding the affair. I felt as though, for the first time in my life, someone wanted to hear what I had to say politically, instead of simply debate me on the issue. I truly felt comfortable expressing my sincere happiness for the historical day, but I also did not feel restrained against criticizing the U.S. government on certain issues, either. As I explicated my reasoning for losing all hope in government, I looked at one of the students and her facial expression told me she understood. What she said to me next, I will never forget because I believe it to be true. “You can’t rely on government to do good things, everyday people like you and me change the course of history.”

It was right then and there that the phrase, “Yes we can!” went from being just a campaign slogan to a tangible and uplifting mantra. I began to realize that similar to Biko, Mandela, Malcom X, Che, MLK and many other iconic activists, Obama’s words, too, have ignited people to rise up. In many different ways we are all starting to realize how fortunate we truly are to have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in a culture that has proven that political turmoil can be revolutionized to progressive social change. Everyday at our internships, we personally experience the realities of living out Obama’s philosophy, “yes we can,” and I become more and more hopeful for our own future. If there is one place that could plant the seed of hope in the heart of a political pessimist, it is here amidst this burgeoning post-Apartheid democracy in South Africa.

Reflections of Kevin

Rachel, Jordan, Michelle, Chelsea, KEVIN, Ben, Steph, Hannah

I've been in Cape Town for about eighteen days now. The first two weeks have consisted of tourist types of activities, while the past four days have been the beginning of my internship at Cape Nature. Internship days (Monday - Wednesday) require Jordan and I to catch a minibus around 7:15am and arrive in Bellville between 8 and 8:15am. Jordan and I stand out as basically the only white people on these routes and in Bellville. We see maybe one or two other white people in the area during a given day. It's a different racial environment than what I am used to in the USA, but it is similar to my two month stay in Guatemala during the summer of 2008. Standing out doesn't bother me and I find that the lens from my background in economics has me observing how different types of stores and shops are located in different geographic areas based upon race and income.

Internship Day 1: I spent the first day reviewing past annual reports, organization procedures, and research reports to familiarize myself more closely with Cape Nature and its history. It was an awkward day integrating myself into an South African organization because different language and behaviors are used by the workers than what I am used to. My internship time is time when I am away from other U.S. students and am completely immersed in a South African working environment. My interactions at work span further than asking a local for directions or buying something from them because I am working with locals for hours and hours a day. This entails cooperation across cultures and a sensitive understanding that we may not always understand the language, behaviors, and viewpoints of one another because we've grown up around different influences. Respect and common goals enable the cross-cultural work experience to occur when my language, behaviors, and views are different than many of those whom I work with. I see the internship experience as a unique experience that I am grateful of because the skills learned during this time are skills that cannot be easily obtained as a tourist or a traditional study abroad student.

Internship Day 2: Jordan and I spent our second day out on an excursion to one of Cape Nature's reserves in the Southern Cape past the farms of Garbouw. Garbouw is an area where you can see rows and rows of apple trees, pear trees, and grape vines. Trucks drive by you that are stocked to the full of fresh picked fruits. Acres and acres of pine trees are also present in the Garbouw area, but pine trees are a foreign plant species that inhibit water from reaching dams. The removal of pine trees can be seen as you travel through Garbouw, but the process is slow. I'm not too sure about the uses of pine trees either. I'll wikipedia that later. Albi drove us to the reserve. Albi works in the working for water program (more specifically removing invasive alien vegetation so that water can flow to dams more easily). The highlights of day two were hearing Albi's insights about South Africa's current state and traveling a forty minutes up a bumpy road in the back of a pickup truck to check out the condition of a hiking cabin. I was able to listen in on the directors conversation about how they would like to improve the trail and cabin in order to attract more hikers to the trail.

Internship Day 3: I asked Noluthando if she could provide me with any business plans to review. She printed out two for me to review. Both business plans revolve around utilizing and turning cleared invasive alien vegetation into products. The trickledown effect of new small business opportunities for locals that a public institution like Cape Nature is opening up through it's Working For Water program may provide some relief to the 40% unemployment rate in South Africa in a few years time. Some is better than none. Constructing actionable business plans and business training programs for small businesses is something that I will be looking deep into during my time in Cape Town. Entrepreneurship leads to job creation which in turn promotes positive socioeconomic activity. I will be working closely with Noluthando, the entrepreneurs, and visiting various business development organizations and seeing what types of services they offer for prospective entrepreneurs.

Reflections of Julie

Shortly before we left the States for Cape Town, I was informed that I would be interning at Thandokhulu Secondary School, a high school in the suburb of Mowbray. It sounds simple enough, doesn't it? I pictured myself checking homework assignments, grading essays, handing out papers, making copies; the fundamentals of a student-teacher's workload. I never thought I'd be in the position to actually teach the children. The idea itself was laughable to me. How could I possibly be qualified to stand in front of a classroom and impart the necessary knowledge required to pass the dreaded Matric Exams students spend the entire year preparing for? How could I be trusted with the futures of hundreds of students? And yet, on my second day at the school, there I was, with forty pairs of curious eyes trained on me, waiting for me to do something… anything.

The gravity of my position did not dawn on me until just before my first day began, while Faina, Emily and I were riding the minibus taxi to the school. Soon after leaving our humble abode at 10 Loch Road, the panic started to set in. I tried to concentrate on the route the driver was taking, worried we might pass our stop, but even more worried that we'd actually get there. Walking through the gates that led to the school, I was convinced the kids could smell my fear as they stared at us curiously. For once in my life I was the minority, and I was terrified.

Upon arriving, the three of us were paired with teachers who specialized in English or Mathematics. Emily's specialty was Mathematics, so she was spirited away early in the day to teach grades 8 and 9, while Faina and I were shepherded around the school by the buoyant Ms. Bopi. Ms. Bopi is an English teacher for grades 10 through 12, and is one of the few members of the faculty whose name we could actually pronounce without difficulty. I could have sword I met a man with a name that sounded like the word "Tokyo" with small clicks interspersed in between the syllables, but I can't be sure. The act of producing the complicated clicking noises required to pronounce Xhosa names is still beyond me, so I parroted what I heard as best I could and picked up little lessons on pronunciation as the day went on.

During lunch, Ms. Bopi coached us on the correct noises to use for the letters 'C,' 'Ch,' 'K,' and 'Q,' but integrating those sounds into actual words was a bit too much for my American mouth to handle. I felt more than a little silly practicing in the hallways between lessons, reading the student rosters posted outside each classroom, but I knew would need practice if I ever hoped to conquer names like Siphokule, Ncebakzi, and Ntombifuthi in front of a class full of native speakers.

On our first day, Faina and I sat in on Ms. Bopi's classes to get an idea of her style of teaching and of how we would be assisting her in the classroom. It was then that she informed us that, in time, we would be getting the chance to teach lessons on our own. English classes are primarily composed of government-mandated lessons that test the comprehension skills of the students. Most students are fairly proficient in English by grade 10, even though they only begin to learn English in grade 8. Learners are confined to the use of English during lessons, and Xhosa (their first language) is only used outside the classroom.
The first lesson that Faina and I sat in on was a point of contention for us. The assignment called on students to read a short article entitled Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus and to answer questions based on the ideas they gleaned from the article. The article summarized many of the ideas discussed in the famous (and notoriously sexist) book of the same name; namely, that men and women are biologically and psychologically different. According to the article, the different distributions of white and grey matter in the brain can account for certain behavioral differences in men and women. It tried to justify that timidity, emotionality, and reliance on relationships for support are innately female traits due to the amount of white matter in the female brain. By the same token, the article asserted that because of a predominance of grey matter, men tend to be more naturally aggressive, dominating, withdrawn, and unemotional in relationships. At the end of this article, the students were asked questions about the differences between men and women, like what jobs they would be better suited for, or what roles they adopt in relationships as a result of their "natural differences." Considering my position as a Women's Studies student, it was difficult for me to listen to Ms. Bopi read from an article that contained so much misinformation and sexist propaganda. It was even more difficult to sit there silently, knowing every student in the class took the information in the article as fact. Adding to my frustration was the fact that every subsequent lesson taught by Ms. Bopi that day included the use of this article. The idea that the government of South Africa, generally progressive in its stance on sexism as compared to other countries, would approve of such material being taught in a classroom left me shocked and appalled.

On a more positive note, our second day was much better in terms of the subject matter of lessons, and both Faina and I had a more hands-on experience teaching the students towards the end of the day. We also had more opportunities to socialize with students one-on-one, something I'd been waiting to do since I learned I'd be working at the school.

It was during one of our breaks on the second day that we were approached by an English teacher in grade 8, who pleaded with Ms. Bopi to allow him to use us as assistants in his class. For the first 45 minutes of our double period, we watched him guide the students through interpreting a poem about poverty and crime in South Africa. Then, in an unexpected turn of events, he turned the lesson over to us, and asked us to supervise the students alone as they worked in groups to answer questions about the poem. It was strangely empowering to get the chance to put my skill set in interpreting poetry to good use, but I struggled to simplify my language so students could understand me. Even though I was daunted by the language barrier, I look forward to facing more challenges like this in the future.

The schedule at Thandokhulu is very loose in terms of when teachers arrive to teach classes. Each class stays in the same room all day with the exception of several break periods, while teachers move around as needed. That meant that every time a teacher was late to class, Faina and I had the opportunity to have question and answer sessions with students, most of whom were itching to know about us and where we came from. Many of the children had questions about whether or not we knew American celebrities or approved of Barrack Obama, and one girl in grade 8 insisted that pop singer Beyoncé was her sister. Some were more curious about why we had chosen to come to South Africa, while other more brazen male students asked if we had boyfriends. In my last class of the day, I had the opportunity to talk at length with two very well spoken grade eleven girls named Pumeza and Sindiswa, and at the end of the conversation, I felt sure I was on my way to making my first real South African friends.

There seem to be two things that there are never enough of at Thandokhulu: books and chairs. In many classes Faina and I attended, students bent over backwards to accommodate us, sharing chairs barely big enough for one person so that we would have a place to sit. If there did happen to be extra chairs in a classroom, they were quickly appropriated by students from other classes, so students had to act quickly if we wanted seats. I was touched (but also embarrassed) by how generous and welcoming the students were, and the more time I spent with them, the more I began to realize that they were just as nervous about interacting with me as I was with them. They were so desperate to make a good impression that some shy students even covered their mouths when speaking to me for fear that I would judge their English.

Much of the time on our second day was taken up by the distribution of books, a process that required many students to pair up and share to combat the chronic shortages. Students painstakingly covered their books and notebooks with plastic or paper to protect them from being damaged. All the learners share their personal supplies with one another. I frequently saw tape, scissors, pens, and whiteout flying through the air as they passed from one student to another. I also noticed that many students sell snacks during class to make extra money, toting huge bags of biscuits or potato chips around all day and clandestinely trading their goods for money under the desks. I learned from Ms. Bopi that this is strictly forbidden, but many teachers turn a blind eye to this practice because they know that for many students, every cent counts.

It's hard to believe that I've only been at my internship for two days because I've learned so much. Much of what I've learned has been heartbreaking or difficult to come to terms with, like the reality of the students' poverty, and the poorly furnished classrooms they inhabit. But the more I interact with the students, the more opportunities I see for unlocking their virtually unlimited potential, and the more hope I have for the future. If I can reach just one student in my work at Thandokhulu, I know I'll consider my stay here to have been a success.

The joy of arriving at the top of Table Mountain

(Julie front center)

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Reflections of Jill

It is impossible to describe the impoverished townships that surround Cape Town to someone who has not observed them firsthand. Before departing from the US, I thought that last year’s students had provided us with a very solid understanding of these difficult areas. My only concern was that I would be overcome with pity for the hundreds of thousands of people who live in such poor conditions. But three days into my internship at Christel House, I have begun interacting with these people, and already I realize that they need not be pitied; instead, the optimism they maintain despite such hardship is overwhelmingly inspiring.

Christel House South Africa is a private K-12 school whose aim is to help the children from these townships break the cycle of poverty. Founded by Christel DeHaan, the former head of RCI vacation group, Christel House receives over 600 applications each year for its 60-student incoming class. The school’s principal, along with social workers and counselors, visits each applicant’s home to assess the child’s living conditions and family environment. Once accepted, the child receives a holistic private school education at no charge to the family. Christel House pays for the learners’ clothing, meals, transportation, and extra-curricular activities. Counselors work with the children’s families, helping them to understand the value of education to ensure the cooperation of parents and siblings. Workshops are held frequently to teach the parents how to sew or cook; skills that are used not only in helping to make the school uniforms and meals, but also later to help the parents secure employment for themselves. Additionally, a full medical staff tends to the students’ physical, mental, dental, and nutritional health needs. My internship is in the Marketing/Public Relations office. In brief, my responsibilities include securing funding from corporations and private donors so that Christel DeHaan can free up her personal money to open other schools (currently, there are 5 Christel Houses throughout the world).

Right now, the school is preparing to move into its new premises in Ottery, a few short miles from its current location. The inauguration ceremony will be held in March, and much is being done to prepare for the ceremony. My boss Sharon, the director of Marketing/Development, was interviewed by two newspapers this week. The second reporter asked to speak to some students about their experiences at the school. The girl who spoke was from Mitchell's Plain, one of the townships. I have yet to master her name- it incorporates the Xhosa “clicks”- a challenge still too steep for my American mouth! Sharon told me that this girl lives in a one-room shack with seven other family members. After school, she is expected to cook, clean, and care for her other siblings. During exams, she stays with one of her teachers so that she may have a quiet room to use for studying. No one in her family has had formal schooling, and it would seem that her life was destined for poverty. The odds have been stacked against her for her whole life, but she has remained hopeful despite the hand she was dealt. Shattering any stereotypes of kids from poor neighborhoods being troublemakers or impolite, she conducted herself flawlessly throughout the interview. Always addressing the reporter as “ma’am”, she was more polite and well-spoken than most of my college peers. She answered the reporter’s questions fluidly, emphasizing her gratitude for the endless opportunities Christel House has given her. Listening to the interview, I began to realize fully the impact Christel House has on the lives of its learners. The kids receive not only an academic education, but also the tools to transform their own lives holistically. I felt foolish for thinking I would pity these people. Instead, their hopefulness and buoyancy in the face of such unbearable odds has already inspired me to appreciate my own life more. If these kids can come from nothing- literally, nothing, and still maintain pride and hope for their own futures, then I should surely remain optimistic in my own life. I can only begin to imagine how else our time in Cape Town will change us all.

Reflections of Emily A

For my internship I will be working at Thandahulu high school. The school teaches grades eight through twelve in preparation for the Matric exam at the end of twelfth grade. This exam determines whether or not a student passes high school as well as whether or not he or she may go on to college. For many of the students of Thandahulu, the primary language is Xhosa, one of South Africa’s native languages. However, from high school onwards, all education is taught in English, a secondary or tertiary language, in order to prepare for the Matric. You can imagine how difficult it may be for students to be tested in English considering students will rarely speak it outside of the school environment. Despite the great challenge, students overcome this obstacle remarkably well.

This past year, 84% of the students taking the Matric passed the exam, which was down from 94% the previous year and a record high of 95%. These figures are amazing considering the backgrounds of many of these students. Something that I’ve failed to mention is that Thandahulu is located in a predominantly ‘white,’ rich area and the students must travel great distances costing some of their families more than they can afford in order to attend. Some students travel up to 30-50 kilometers simply to study at this school instead of the local schools. This is a choice the students make and it shows their dedication to their studies. In the local schools pass rates are horribly low and furthering education seems impossible. Despite the drop in the percentage of students passing the exam at Thandahulu, a pass rate this high is remarkable and reason for celebration.

Our first day at the school also happened to be the students’ first day back from the summer holiday. As such, there was a welcoming assembly for all of the students. As we arrived for the day, the students were already in a block of semi formed lines. We stood among a huge group of parents watching and waiting for the festivities to begin. It was inspiring to see that so many parents traveled all the way to the school to support their children. Loud music kicked off the celebration with teachers singing along on a microphone to get the students excited. The students stood in an oddly perfect rectangle signing and dancing, flawlessly dressed in their navy school uniforms. It was obvious that they took a certain pride in their appearance as well as their school. As the principal stepped up to begin the assembly, the students fell silent almost immediately and remained this way throughout the two-hour service.

After a few announcements in Xhosa, there was a big welcome for all of the students who had passed the Matric the previous year. Those who could make it to the ceremony walked out as a group amid applause and cheers. It was amazing to see the respect and camaraderie among the students and those who had graduated. The goal of each student in the audience was to do what these students had done, to pass the test against all odds. Everyone was genuinely happy for their accomplishments.

Something I found to be remarkable was that in order to motivate them, a dermatologist working at the Red Cross Hospital in Cape Town promised a large sum of money to those students who had not only passed their exams but received A’s. Seven students met this requirement by getting an A in at least one class. At the ceremony, the doctor from the hospital gave the promised money to each of the deserving students. One student even got five out of six A’s with his sixth mark being a B. This is unheard of and such an accomplishment that the woman doctor presented him with a check for 1500 Rand! This is a huge sum of money in South Africa and represents a lot more than the monetary value. Even greater than the money given, was the effect on the audience. The students went wild knowing that one of them had accomplished so much. A parent standing on the side of the celebration walked right up to the stage and handed this exceptional student 100 Rand! From then on teachers and officials began donating money for the students who would be taking the Matric this coming year and reached a sum of 10,000 Rand! It was a great feeling to see such a pride among the community and to be a part of such an accomplishment.

In the following speeches, a need for goals and dedication was stressed. The dermatologist explained how all her life people told her she could not reach her goals and that she would never be a doctor. Well, she stood in front of us qualified and practicing, proving wrong all those who never believed in her. This is the attitude and mindset that she imposed upon the students: that by working hard you can accomplish anything and the students who passed the Matric were living evidence.

Ten Thandahulu graduates will attend UCT this year. 10 out of about 1,100. That is almost 1% of the graduating class attending the best university on the continent despite all the social and economic issues and all the people who said they couldn’t.

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