Emily A reflects on her time in the townships

I don’t pretend to know everything about South Africa and I realize I have only been here for 3 months, so let me preface this with the fact that everything I say is entirely from my own perspective.

In the past 3 months all of us have ventured into townships whether it be for work, activist projects, the ANC rally, or just to visit friends. In fact, going into the townships has become such a regular occurrence for many of us, especially those working in Khayelitsha, that we don’t see or think of it as abnormal.

However, I found that whenever I talked to white South Africans about my time in the townships, I got the same shocked response. “You did WHAT?!” was common as was simply looking at me disapprovingly. I would continue to tell them how great it was and how much I enjoyed myself, but they didn’t hear any of it. They would tell me how unsafe it is and that I clearly don’t know what I’m doing because I don’t live here. Many people told me that if I were to live here, my views would change and I would realize it was a lost cause. Others would simply start making racial jokes, ending any forum for discussion. I found myself offended and shocked at such responses. I know racism exists and I know it is deeply ingrained in society, but to have it be so obvious took me completely off guard.
To be fair, there was the occasional person who was intrigued by what I had to say and was at least able to appreciate that things were changing for the better. Though, not a single local person I talked to had been into a township. I was amazed at the fact that people who actually live in Cape Town hadn’t seen such a huge part of their own country. I considered that it was just the people I was talking to and that they were not representative of the average person. However, Julie and I were talking to the woman in charge of the garden where we did our activist project and she said that the only white people who volunteer there are those from overseas.

During the last week of our trip, I stayed overnight in Khayelitsha with a friend. He had to be at school early in the morning so I took the train with him into Cape Town. It wasn’t that I was the only white person on a completely packed train that surprised me, because I was expecting that. It was the fact that people blatantly and unabashedly stared at me. It wasn’t in a rude way and I felt completely safe, but it was very clear that white people taking the train from Khayelitsha in the morning simply doesn’t happen. I wasn’t ready for it. I mean, I knew it was uncommon for white people to be in the townships especially over night, but I didn’t realize how outrageous my actions must have seemed.


I don’t understand how people can tell me not to go to these areas when they’ve never actually been themselves. It seems hypocritical to me and does nothing but perpetuate stereotypes that have little to no truth to them. I feel as though racism will always exist until these stereotypes are broken and people integrate. South Africa has such a great opportunity to do this as people are still open and hopeful for a better future. However, it is the responsibility of the richer populations to take charge on this. Poor people can’t simply move into rich neighborhoods or attend expensive private schools; it has to work the other way around.


There was nothing that made me feel more like I belong here in South Africa than staying in the townships these past few weeks. Throughout the entire trip, I have been made to feel at home in so many situations and by so many people that it’s unreal but nothing comes close to the genuine welcome I received while in these areas that I was so quickly told to avoid.

Riding in mini bus taxis, playing dominoes in the street, buying 3 Rand grapes on the corner, waking up at 7am to children happily fooling around outside, going to visit friends without invitation, playing cricket with a scrap piece of wood, learning xhosa clicks or at least practicing them, going to the shebeen to catch the last minutes of the game. These are the memories that are fondest in my heart and this is the South Africa that I will always remember.

Hannah's reflections on being back

This blog comes a week late for a number of reasons. I was so pre-occupied my last week in Cape Town that it completely slipped my mind until I returned. It has now been a week since I left Cape Town and it has been quiet a difficult week. It is not so much adjusting back into my old setting that has thrown me off, but rather missing the life that I had built so perfectly in Cape Town.

Of course I miss everything about Cape Town; seeing Table Mountain everywhere I go, walking across the Rondebosch commons, the delicious sushi (particularly salmon fashion sandwiches), the daily train and minibus rides, going to the office where I worked in town, going up to UCT on Thursdays, spending lazy weekends at Clifton or Camps Bay beaches, and the list goes on. I miss even the little things, like seeing women walking around with children attached to their back by a towel or blanket tied to their chest and seeing the adorable little heads bobbing precariously up and down. Most of all, however, I miss the people- all of the people, and especially my irreplaceable friends.

Walking to the train station, at the minibus station in town, through the underground mall, down the streets of downtown Cape Town- I felt so comfortable and at ease. I can’t properly explain or put my finger on what is different or why I do not feel this way here. What made Cape Town such a welcoming place? Maybe it’s the idea of “ubuntu” and the way people live their lives by this idea, I’m not sure, but it definitely has to do with the people and the way that they relate with one another. Everyone acts as themselves, they seem comfortable with who they are and seem sincere and genuine in their daily interactions with others. In turn, I was left no choice but to act solely as myself. I did not have to pretend I was anyone else to try and fit in, I felt like myself more than ever before. Coming home, this has stayed with me. I now, have a much better grasp on who I am and this is the most valuable thing I could have gained on a personal level. At the same time, it is strange coming home and feeling as though it is not home anymore. I have spent my entire life in New York, however, during my three and a half months in South Africa, I came to feel more at home than ever before.

Although my departure from Cape Town was quite traumatic, I found some comfort in my pain. My immense sorrow indicates how deeply the past three and half months affected and changed me. I have gained unspeakable amounts and I now know what my passion and calling is, I know where I am happy and how I can find happiness and I realize what is truly important to me.

I never said goodbye to South Africa, but rather, see you soon because I plan to go back as soon as possible. I want to travel a lot in the future, however I feel that my time in Cape Town was cut short and thus, I must return before going elsewhere. Part of me will remain dissatisfied and unfulfilled until my return. Until then- I will reflect upon what I have learned and be grateful for the experiences and opportunities I had, unforgettable people I have formed unbreakable bonds with and the love I have found.

Kevin's Reflections on Leaving South Africa

Leaving South Africa feels like being ripped apart from a second home. We’ve all grown together in a unique way as a household. We grew together around issues that would never be brought up outside of our unique learning environment. We each had our own internship and volunteer project and we’d all hear stories from everyone about what their experiences and what they were learning.

At times we would be involved in each other’s internships or volunteer projects. I found myself one Saturday at a protest against the government that Dan brought me and a few students along with. I found myself on a few Fridays walking dogs and playing with cats at an animal shelter where Michelle and Chelsea volunteered .

Teachers didn’t just teach us inside of the classroom and our internship coordinators weren’t just our superiors. Many were met with outside of the classroom at restaurants like Swingers for Monday night jazz, and at the braai (barbecue) our household threw one Sunday, on our excursion trip, and on occasion at many of the dinners Marita held at her flat. The role a teacher should have in their student’s learning experience has been changed in my eyes. They shouldn’t just lecture a class

A variety of beaches were all within a 20 – 45 minute minibus or train ride. Surf, lounge around, watch the sunset, or play in the waves. Lions head is a mountain that is 15 minutes away from our house. It overlooks the entire city. A few of us hiked up the mountain twice on evenings in time to see the sun set, the full moon rise, and the entire city lights turn on.


The book lounge 20 minutes away in the city holds speakers every week that address issues like poverty, HIV/AIDS, and gender inequality (the free food and wine is great too). Class was class, but we’d be able to apply our knowledge everywhere we went in Cape Town, whether it was listening to a speaker or conversing with people at our internship or anywhere really. Rugby, jazz, soccer, pool games, running with housemates, township visits, food/wine tasting festivals, are all just a few of the activities I will be missing.

I found myself doing something new almost every day. I didn’t keep a set routine to abide to. If someone brought up an activity I would often tag along without much questioning.

Before the trip I was quite pragmatic in my routines. I was more distant, kept to the books and work, and fantasized about landing a job day in and day out that would yield an above par starting salary after graduation. Not much else concerned me. I have to admit that I was pretty boring and predictable.

The first month was difficult for me. I could barely enjoy myself during the orientation week because it was a “relaxed” time where there was no work or assignments to be done. I jittered around and took notes at many of the places we went to like I was going to be tested or something. Not cool. I was a bit of a workaholic before the trip and a month or so into the trip. I’m sure anyone that knows me can affirm that. The “South Africa” laid back lifestyle wouldn’t get through to me I thought to myself.

But I have relaxed a bit and gotten a taste of a wide variety of lifestyles. One of my favorite days was a Saturday that started out at a protest against the government with the Social Justice Coalition followed by a Food and Wine tasting festival and then the International Jazz Festival that night. The first part of the day I was surrounded by disadvantaged Cape Townians from the less well off areas. Most people were black. The second part of the day at the food/wine tasting festival I was surrounded by fairly well off people – mostly white. The diversity in people and things you can do in a day in Cape Town astonishes me.

I can go on and on, but I won’t. I’m looking forward to stepping off of the plane on U.S. that I soon depart for in less than three hours from now (not really, but I don’t have a choice, so I might as well look forward to my return). What’s the same? What’s changed? Right now it feels like I am returning to somewhere else that wasn’t where I departed from – almost like another study abroad experience.

Michelle, Kevin & Dan

Faina's Reflections things so many of us take for granted

As my concluding blog I would like to touch on several things that have happened towards the end of this trip.  In class we talk about race and class and I have seen first hand how these things play out in the real world, in a different country.  The rich white population in South Africa has grown up completely different from the poor black population.  If you imagine your childhood what do you see?  Do you picture playing sports in the park?  Sitting on the couch watching your favorite movies?  Playing video games on the computer or game system, catching a flick at the theatre with your friends?  It is eye opening to realize that these memories are not shared by everyone, no matter how basic they seem.  Maybe a child here has a memory of crowding around to watch a movie, but instead it is on a tiny television which is plagued with static and instead of sitting in a well lit room on a couch they sit on a blanket on the floor in a room with no lamps, where the wall is peeing and there are no doors to separate the rooms.  Their memories of playing sports is playing with a soccer ball made of wet newspaper, plastic bags and other miscellaneous items rolled up as circularly as possible.  And instead of playing on a nice grass field they are playing on the brown dirt that kicks up and gets in your eyes wearing old sneakers or most likely no shoes at all.  That going to the bathroom means walking outside to an outside toilet stall and getting water requires walking to the water pump.  Computer and video games are completely un-available.  So all of my memories of playing Mario Brothers or Mario Kart are so distant from their reality that it is hard to picture how a child of my generation has never experienced it.  It’s not just that you don’t own a computer and you could just go to your cousins or neighbors, but it’s that no one has a computer.  Every road you ever go on in your daily tasks, house after house, shack after shack there is not a single computer.  I had 6 learners over the house on Monday and this would explain why, even at age 18, some do not know how to turn on the internet, or how to move the mouse on a laptop, or they must search slowly and carefully on the keyboard to find the letter they are looking for. 

During our stay here there has been a huge buzz about elections, since the next president will be changed this year.  Today was election day.  It was a public holiday and many people did not have to go to work so that they could vote.  There were voting stations everywhere, even at Thandokhulu.  I experienced what voting was like in Khayelitsha today, a huge black township in Cape Town.  

 On the streets leading to the numerous voting locations are tables set up where people try to advocate for a particular political party.  On the street I was on there was an ANC table, and a few meters down a COPE table.  The people there handed out fliers and flashed banners.  Unlike the US there are many political parties.  The ballot is very long and lists all of the parties with the picture of the face of the president next to each party.  I was able to walk through the entire process, all the way up to the booth.  

 I entered the primary school which was turned into a voting station and waited in line for about 15 minutes with my friend who lived there.  Inside there was a room with tables and booths set up.  She showed her ID and they stamped it stating that she had voted.  They also put ink on her thumb nail to indicate that she had voted.  This was done mostly so that a person cannot vote in one location and then call IEC and request to vote in a different location, to have a double vote.  Then, she is handed the two ballot papers: one for the national leader, and one for the provincial leader.  You can vote a different party for each. 

 Then she walks to the booth and puts an X next to which party she wants for national and which one she wants for provincial.  Then she just drops these two papers in a box in the middle of the room.  Outside there is election excitement here and there.  I saw at least four cars which were painted with ANC on them and with people hanging out the window screaming “ANC” and waving around banners.  One car even had a mega phone to scream out ANC supportive statements.  Many people walked around with ANC T-shirts.  There were also a few COPE T-shirts, but majority of overt supporters were for the ANC.  My friend voted for COPE, a party that recently branched from the ANC.  My other friend in the same location voted for ID- the Independent Democrats.  There were also small rallies and celebrations for the ANC which is obviously going to win because of the large amount of supporters it has.  Many of the learners that I talked to who were old enough to vote said that they were not going to vote, that they were not ready yet and did not know enough about it.  Some of the teachers told me they would not vote because they do not see any party that they agree with and see them all as corrupt.  Either way, there were many people out today voting, and many were very enthusiastic about it.

 

Being in South Africa allowed me to reflect on how differently communities and populations live and also how other people’s kindness has shaped my childhood.  If it weren’t for another person spending money and time simply out of their heart to do something for me like taking me to the movies, buying me a reading book, driving me to soccer practice, taking me with them to family outings, taking me to eat out I would never have experienced many things that brought joy to the early years of my life.  I have told myself since I was little that if I ever hade the opportunity and ability to do the same for someone else I would not hesitate.  For example, when some people my age buy their own cars they don’t offer to give people a ride or do so only if they are given gas money.  There were so many times when people have given me a ride and expected nothing from me, so how could I deny the next person that?  South Africa has given me the opportunity to give back and make a difference in someone’s life.  From seeing the smile and joy on the learners face when I bought her a cake on her 18^th birthday in class to giving a dedicated learner a much needed English dictionary.  The 50 or 100 rands that this would take ($5, $10) is an impossible amount for them when all they can think of to do with their money is to buy a warm enough winter jacket or lunch snack. 

Emily A & Faina 

 I was also happy to be able to leave Thandokhulu with a beautiful mural of their logo so that they can be proud of their school and realize that it is worth spending time in.  I wish everyone reached out their hand, even if it is just to give time, to those whose minds are trapped in a box containing only thoughts of subsistence level items such as where will the next meal come from, will we have electricity for the month, will I be able to buy the bus ticket to get to school and have enough warm clothes and blankets to be comfortable.  The luxuries that we take for granted like hot water, numerous pairs of socks, internet, birthday presents, level walls and a stable roof are denied to people who are closer to you than you think making it vital for you to have an open mind and an open heart 

Dan on why so grateful for the opportunities and experiences

It’s time to depart.  We had our final thank you dinner last night.  It was a great time to close our loose ties and be together with everyone one last time.  The food was plentiful and delicious which added to the party.  It’s extremely difficult for me to gather my feelings on leaving and my time spent here.  However, I was chosen to speak for the group at the dinner.  It was a thank you speech directed towards everyone that had an impact on our experience.  I think it expressed my feelings and the group’s sentiment.  Therefore, I think it’s appropriate to conclude the final blog with the final speech: 

‘This may seem a bit blunt, but my goal for this speech is not to delve into a heart wrenching soliloquy about the ways we will forever be changed or how Cape Town has left an imprint on our hearts.  I want to go about a different approach.  I want to explain the legitimate reasons for why we are so grateful for the opportunities and experiences that have been granted to us by our hosts, advisors, leaders and most importantly, our teachers. 

No matter the title or rank of our co-workers, we have learned an incredible amount.  It seems a trifle unfair that we are exiting Cape Town with so much more than what we came with, and only leaving behind our toils of 3 ½ months.  In each and every aspect of our internships and classes we have dealt with something new and have been taught innovative ways to deal with these challenges.  The excitement we felt from these occurrences rippled through the house as each of us began to trump the other with some strange or interesting escapade that occurred while interning.  For this, I thank you.  I cannot truthfully claim that I never felt idle or bored - no offense Gilad for it was always a nice break from the budget spread sheets – but this was all part of the experience. 

Every aspect of knowledge gained during our working lives has been soaked up and is ready to be put to use at a moment’s notice.  We weren’t given the tourists superficial exposure, but we were accepted into the real and sometimes gritty working life of Cape Town.  Yet again, I give you my praise.  You trusted us to let us become part of your team, and I hope that we lived up to and exceeded your expectations.  For you all greatly exceeded ours

I would like everyone here to know that this experience has become an immense part of our lives because of you!  And we are utterly grateful for the talent and aid that came along with it.  It is with heavy hearts that we now have to leave and say ciao to the people and places we have become so absolutely fond of.  Yet, let’s perk up, and enjoy the food, drinks and most importantly, the company. Thanks for everything!’

Onwards to the United States!

 

 

Jordan's Reflections on what she learned on election day

Jordan, Hannah, Steph

As I am writing this, I am sitting in the Results Operation Centre for the Western Cape elections. It is nearly 1am, and it is the culmination of not only a week full of 11 hour days, but also of my internship here at the IEC. The mood has calmed down from the hectic activities of the last week, and most of what is left is to watch the results come in, and to see all of the work we have been doing play out.

Today two things happened that have really caused me to reflect on the journey that I, and all of the students, have been on since we have arrived.

The first is probably the more defining, today there were 7 American volunteers that are also here on a study abroad program, except  that they have only arrived in the country 2 or 3 weeks ago, so I am seeing them at the end of their orientation weeks. The other is that I was part of a media tour around the metro area with media, foreign dignitaries, special guests, and, of course, the Americans.

 We found out a few days ago that the Americans could be coming, and the general consensus around the office was that people were very excited for me to meet others of my kind. (Maybe one of them will be from Connecticut too!!) I was of course, more hesitant and from what I have come to see, it was with good reason. My initial reaction to the Americans was not positive, it essentially went something like this, “Good god, were WE this ignorant when we got here? That can’t be possible…”

Of course, I am not naive enough to pretend that I was as all knowing four months ago as I am now, but part of me doesn’t want to admit that I was ever in their shoes. I realize that most of my reflection on America is supposed to come after I get home, but sitting with my boss and talking to them, I couldn’t help but notice all the reasons that no one likes Americans. and so, I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out exactly when in the last semester I stopped being able to relate to foreigners here. 

The other adventure of my day was the bus tour. There is a slow portion of the day here at the results centre which comes between the drama of opening the polling stations, and the drama of closing the polling stations to count votes. People are just voting, and there really isn’t much to do but wait. In order to fill the gap, we set up a bus tour with key people to drive around and visit some voting stations to give people a feel of the city and what the atmosphere of the day was. While of course, this was a work occasion and I had things to do, it was awesome to not only get a little break from the computer I’ve been staring at, but also to see in action all the things that my internship actually does.

We drove around mostly townships, we stopped in Langa, Joe Slovo, Crossroads, Khaylitsha, and Manenberg. At every stop we were invited to get off the bus, and to check things out. Some of the stations were temporary voting stations constructed with tents in small open areas, complete with a wandering goat or two, and then some were churches or schools. Everywhere we went, there were the a few common things, like party volunteers proudly displaying their shirts and signs. In Khaylitsha there were braai stands and other places there were speakers blasting music and no shortage of political party members dancing and singing the praises of their party. There were also hundreds and hundreds of very patient people standing in line to cast their vote. In short, it was a very South African experience.

            The only thing that interrupted it was everyone from the bus making a point to note that things were going smoothly. People were standing patiently in lines that were literally going to take hours, and things were going just fine. But it was as if no one had expected that it would.  I guess that is what happens when you only read media coverage of townships and don't actually see them for yourselves. 

So I guess the general theme of what I learned on election day, as well as what I learned in general here in South Africa has something to do with looking a little deeper into things, giving the benefit of the doubt, and  actually trying when it comes to getting to know other people, cultures, and any other kind of life experience. 

Kevin's Reflections on South African Elections

The Election Monitoring Network Internship Experience
South Africa national elections have just ended. During the past month and a half I’ve had the privilege of interning at the Election Monitoring Network.

Here’s a quick intro to the history behind South Africa politics and the Election Monitoring Network. South Africa as a nation hasn’t seen a democratic political atmosphere until 1994 when the National Party and along with it apartheid (segregation policies) were removed from government. The new atmosphere enabled people to openly question their democratic governance more, “how are you as my elected party going to address this problem my community has?” Questions of accountability weren’t able to be asked by the majority of the population before 1994. From 1994 to 2008 the one party that received the majority of votes was the ANC (African National Congress). Discontent of undelivered promises cultivated from 1994 to 2008. In 2009 the environment the political parties contested in changed again as citizens became more educated and experience about their rights. Places that used to be ANC dominate were now split between other parties for some reason or another due to discontent with the way the nation was being ran, i.e. lack of undelivered promises by the government over the past 14 years. A more competitive democratic environment emerged because of this – a type of environment South Africa has never seen before in its history.

The Election Monitoring Network’s mission is to ensure peaceful elections. The EMN deploys 500 monitors across the country among the nine provinces. The monitors keep their ears and eyes open for potential conflict hotspots and call their provincial coordinators to have the conflict resolved if one does arise. The EMN was formed by a multitude of civil society organizations across South Africa and is independent of government.

My role at the EMN has been to organize the information the monitors report and to assist my coordinator’s assistant with an assortment of duties – excel sheets, phone calls, setting up materials. Regardless, everyday was exciting and held a new challenge to be dealt with.

Some days were especially different from others. I’d find myself at the Archbishop of the Anglican Church’s house setting up for a briefing on the election related conflict that has occurred so the Archbishop could make a speech to the media afterwards. I’d find myself acting as an observer at a live televised political debate between the ANC, ID, DA, AZAPO, and COPE political parties. And I’d find myself having conversations about democracy and global affairs with election related international workers from other countries like Uganda and Kenya.


Becoming immersed in a fast paced neutral national election related environment was one of the most exciting things I have ever been a part of. What I learned outside of a classroom was the actual dynamics of an organization whose mission was to ensure peaceful democratic elections. My coordinator Derrick, who is the national coordinator of the EMN, took me closely under his wing and involved me in all of the issues at the forefront of the organization. By the end of the internship I had received a 360 degree view of the election landscape and how an organization organizes itself to scan for and respond to election related conflict and then communicate this to other organizations, eminent persons, the media, and the public to ensure peace during the tender and delicate period of elections the nation goes through.

I will be taking so much with me back to the United States from my internship experience. Before the study abroad program I had never been educated or involved with any type of political, governmental, or electoral related affairs – but here I found myself at an internship three days a week where I met with admirable people all united with a common goal of creating a peaceful and fair democracy for South Africa and Africa as a whole. I have the highest respect for the people I worked with when I look at the type of past South Africa and Africa as a whole have been through. The work that they do contributes to creating a peaceful atmosphere where problems are negotiated peacefully rather than by force and disregard for others. I would have never had this learning experience if it wasn’t for the study abroad program and its amazing connections – thanks to everyone involved. I know I will be able to add a unique perspective to many of the initiatives that await me back in the United States. Most of all I’ve learned that I have A LOT to learn and that I’ll never know everything or solve every problem, but I hope to hit the ground running and continue the learning experience once I return.

Rachel reflects on the Matric Ball

Picture in your mind your senior prom. Now remember the way you felt during that prom: the dancing, the music, the food, the pictures, and the atmosphere. Now imagine you are from an area where gang violence, drug abuse, physical abuse, HIV/AIDS are rampant, and you may live in a one room shack... In South Africa there is an event known as Matric Ball, or dance, and it is very similar to our senior prom. Girls find a fancy dress and get their hair and nails done while the guy finds a nice suit and they bring partners, which are their dates for the night. The students in grade 12 at Christel House South Africa had their Matric Ball on Friday the 17th of April. It was also historic for the school itself because this is the schools first Matric class ever, and thus the first Matric Ball

What makes this Matric Ball even more special is the fact that these students had their outfits for the night and their hair and makeup donated by teachers and others throughout their community. I can remember in the weeks up to the dance there would be dress fittings in classrooms and girls would be running around talking about their outfits or who their partner was, and the guys would be trying on suits or shoes. All of the excitement led to this one night.

Jill and I had the privilege to attend the dance, and we had no idea what to expect. When we got there we were stunned to find the students looking absolutely gorgeous. Every single one of the learners and their partners looked like celebrities. The face of every student was of pure happiness. There were hundreds of pictures being taken and smiling faces everywhere. Jill and I could not stop saying how beautiful everyone looked, and how excited we were to be there. After everyone ate the dancing started, and Jill and I got forced to go out on the dance floor. Lets just say that we felt slightly awkward since our dancing skills were not quite up to par.

All in all, we had an amazing time and I am sure the students did too. It was a great experience and I am very glad that I had the chance to go. Working at Christel House has given me many opportunities that I would not have been able experience anywhere else. My experience here would not have been complete without Christel House and the people that I met there. The people I met and the kids I worked with will stay in my heart forever, and I will always be grateful for their friendship and help.

Cassidy's reflections on the braai

An important part of South African culture is a having a Braai with family and friends. It is a great time for everyone to come together and have food and just hang out. The first time I experienced a Braai was in the first weeks of coming to South Africa. One of our professors held a Braai at his house as a welcome to the culture. This was when we really started to get to know each other as a group and got to truly interact with other South Africans. There was great food, music, soccer, and wonderful conversation. We all knew then that we would have to have our own Braai at some point so we could return the favor and prove that we had become South Africans, even if for a brief period of time.

The weeks kept passing and we still hadn’t made any plans to have a Braai. We would casually mention it here and there but never talked about it substantially. With one month left it was looking as though we would not ever get the chance to have a real Braai at our house. Then we actually sat down and came up with a date and a full plan on what to do. We were going to get a band to play and invite some of our co-workers and new friends we had made. However, the band was not available for the date we set so we decided to push it back to see if they would be able to make it at a later date. We waited as long as we could and then decided that it would still be a good time without a band so we set a new date of 19 April 2009.

We knew that we had to be very efficient about our planning because past activities had caused tension in the house due to poor planning. We held a meeting and assigned people to different committees: appetizers/side dishes, meat, dessert, shopping, oversight. Everyone was to make a menu and tell the shopping committee all of the ingredients required. The committee went shopping the day before the Braai was set to take place. We all made whatever dishes we could the night before so as to reduce congestion in our small kitchen the next day.



The day had finally come and everyone was really excited to have everyone over as our time in South Africa is coming to an end. We woke up early to start cleaning the house and making it ready for what would be about fifty people. As I headed towards the door of pool house to cross into the main house, I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was raining. The one day we wanted to do something that involved a lot of people being outside it decided to rain. It had only rained once before during our stay and not for a long period of time. We were all really bummed that it wasn’t going to be as we had envisioned, but we stayed positive and got to work. We had to bring in all of the chairs and tables that were outside and dry them off. We vacuumed every room, cleaned every surface, and decorated with balloons and a welcome sign. I was extremely impressed with how good we got the entire house to look considering we are not always the neatest bunch. Everything looked great and very festive.



We then got to work on making the rest of our dishes for the day. Surprisingly, everything ran smoothly in the kitchen. We timed it so there were only a few people in there at one time, making it easier to get things done. Everything was ready to go. We all got cleaned up and looked like quite the spiffy group. Things started a little slow when guests started to arrive because we didn’t all know each other and not everyone was there yet. But sure enough, as the night went on things picked up. All of the food was delicious, there was game playing, and there were dance parties all over the house throughout the night. We were also able to give our South African friends and professors their first look at a smore. They had never even heard of such a thing, but once they tried it they really enjoyed it. The party lasted well into the night, with our last guests leaving around midnight.



Overall it was a great success and a lot of fun. It really brought everyone together and was a nice way to spend one of our last weekend’s here. I wish there was time to have another Braai with all of the amazing people we have met. I think everyone enjoyed themselves and were impressed, along with myself, with what we accomplished. We worked hard and created a truly magnificent event. I hope we can bring this tradition with us back to the States and share it with all of our friends and family. It is definitely not something to be missed in one’s lifetime. 

Emily G reflects on how to describe her time in Cape Town

I have been thinking a lot about what I am going to say when I get home and people ask me how my trip was. I know there is no possible way to make them understand the experiences we have had, but I am brainstorming on ways to try to describe a tiny slice of Cape Town to them.

I could tell them how breathtaking it is to wake up to and look out at Table Mountain every morning, contrasting with the bright blue sky and wisps of cotton ball clouds.

I could tell them about going to Muizenberg beach and frolicking in the waves until having to get out because a great white shark was spotted nearby.

I could tell them about riding in the back of a pickup truck with our whole group through a vineyard with endless perfect rows of vines meeting the blue sky at the horizon.

I could tell them about hiking up Lion’s Head and watching the sun set in orange and pink hues over the ocean, while a full moon rose above the city.

I could tell them about the fear and adrenaline of jumping off the highest commercial bungee in the world.

I could tell them about a great white shark biting bait and smacking its tail against the little cage I was swimming in next to it.

I could tell them about walking around the townships for the first time and seeing the poverty collide with bright colors and the welcoming spirits of the people.

I could tell them about visiting a crèche (preschool) and having the kids be so excited that they literally tackle me to the ground.

I could tell them about listening to the stories of women at my work that have been through more than I could possibly imagine, and yet still carry themselves with strength, warmth and composure.

I could tell them about my experience trying pap and sour milk for the first time, trying to be polite while silently cringing on the inside.

I could tell them about strolling on the beach in Durban and watching the sunrise like a glowing red ball in the sky, making the ocean shimmer.

I could tell them about walking through the huge markets, being hassled constantly and having to barter every time I want to purchase something.

I could tell them about living in a house with 14 other people, and the chaos that it often entails, over things like dishwashers, bathrooms, and knives.

I could tell them about the friends I have made, and the strength of our relationships.

I could tell them about swaying to the music at Cape Town’s International Jazz Festival, learning about a genre of music that I had neglected to listen to before this trip.

I could tell them about watching zebras and giraffes walking next to me.

I could tell about jumping into freezing water in order to play under the waterfalls and in the pools in the Drakensberg Mountains.

I could tell them about my experience being a minority and the challenges that I face with the difference in language and culture.

I could tell them what it is like to work in township in the country that has the highest incidence rate of AIDS in the world, and a township in which almost 2 out of 3 women do not give consent during their first sexual experience.

I could them about what it is like to live in an area recently free of apartheid, but still very segregated in so many different ways.

I could tell them about my visit to Robben Island, and my experience seeing Nelson Mandela’s prison cell.

I could tell them about the food I ate, whether it be Ethiopian, Indian, Thai, Chinese, Cape Malay, Italian, Mexican, Cuban, or traditional African.

I could tell them what it is like to stand on top of Table Mountain and look out at the city, sea, suburbs, townships, and winelands around me.

Yes, I could try to describe a tiny slice of Cape Town to the people who ask how my trip went, but only a sliver. This is because our time here is indescribable, except when talking to my housemates of 10 Loch Road. It is something that has inspired me, challenged me and changed me, but that I cannot really share with most others. But this is okay – I will always have my memories to remind me of this amazing trip.

As I enter the final week in South Africa, I am becoming very sad and nostalgic, but I know it is okay because I will be back soon.

Steph O reflects on coming together

It has taken me a long time to decide what I should write my last blog about. I wanted it to be memorable, yet nothing came to mind. I thought I would write about saying good-bye to Cape Town, but then I realized I was not ready to say good-bye. I thought maybe I would write about what I have learned from my experience, but I realized it was quite complex to sum up in a blog. In fact, I have come to realize that I do not even understand the extent of my transformation thus far. I believe down the road, the choices I will make in life will in fact reflect my transformation, and only then will I understand how this experience has changed me. But as for now, I will have to admit that these last few days are rather overwhelming. However in the midst of the sorrow, there is one thing that has made me happy: 10 Loch Rd.

I must admit that there were plenty of times when I did not believe our R.A. Ben when he told us that in the past, students have always come together in the end. I never could have imagined the number of challenges faced by a group of students living together under one roof. Although we’ve had many ups and downs, miscommunications and frustrations, I think that we’ve all learned a great deal from the experience of living in a house with 15 strangers. With that said, I really would like to say that I was extremely impressed with the hard work that very single individual put into making this final braai turn out as smoothly and successful as possible.

 Although we all have our differences and group dynamics can be quite hectic, (especially when making decisions) everyone did make a great effort to put our differences aside to collaborate for our event.  The side dishes, desserts, and of course the meats were all exceptionally appetizing.  Truthfully, it put a smile on my face to see everyone make such a great effort the day of the event. While some cleaned up around the house, others cooked and prepared the food. Others decorated the house with balloons and hung up the welcome sign in the foyer. Finally, I wanted to thank Steph Y and Jordan for taking the responsibility of overseeing the entire execution of the event. I am aware that taking on such an enormous task can be very stressful.

And with that said I would like to conclude this brief blog by saying that my unique study abroad experience would not have been the same without the students of 10 Loch Rd.  Through a roller coaster of emotions we have been there for each other, created everlasting memories, and watched each other transform. I guess just thanks for all the memories (good and bad : ) )=

Julie reflects on learning patience

As much as I'd like to, I can no longer ignore the fact that my time in South Africa is quickly coming to a close. Deadlines are drawing threateningly nearer, the weather is getting colder, and even the days, which at once seemed limitless in their hours, are now cruelly short. There hardly seems to be enough time to tackle the long list of things I simply must do before I leave this place. I've assumed a rather frenetic pace in my efforts to stuff every possible meaningful activity into my last days here. This lifestyle belies one of the very important virtues I've attempted to acquire here: the virtue of patience. After all, when you have to buy this, that, and those things for relative A, friend B, and boyfriend's friend C, who has time to remember not to get angry at the taxi driver who is 30 minutes late picking you up? Who has the wherewithal to not check their watch every 10 seconds while waiting for a long overdue restaurant check when you have unfinished class work and an internship to worry about? Who can smile obligingly and wait for the whims of 14 other people to be satisfied when you've only got TWO MORE WEEKS left in South Africa? It was only after the events that occurred this Saturday that I began to again see the error of my ways. Who, you might ask, reminded me of this all-important virtue? In true South African fashion, I re-learned my lesson about patience from my recent encounters with Great White Sharks. Let me explain:

We were all awake long before the sun was up that Saturday: 5:30 AM to be exact, and it seemed like it was going to be a cold one. All dressed smartly in layers, Jill, Rachel, Jordan and I were ready, as instructed by Jordan (our liaison with the shark dive company) to be picked up by the van that would take us to our boat. The van (again, in true South African fashion) was late, but we all took it in stride, recouping our losses by sleeping on the way there. According to Jordan, it would then be another hour on a boat to "Shark Alley," an area between two well-known Great White hunting sites, before we would arrive at the dive spot. When we arrived at a small restaurant for the breakfast included in the tour, we were read the riot act about being patient. "If we're extremely lucky," said Dixie, our videographer, "we could wait 5 minutes for the sharks to show up. But we could also wait hours." How many hours, Dixie did not say, but I felt myself up to the challenge of whiling away a few pleasant hours on a boat in the South African sunshine.

What I failed to remember was the last time I'd been on the "high seas" in South Africa: on the way to and from Robben Island. More specifically, what I'd forgotten was my penchant for nautical nausea. Not long after we embarked, Jill and I were overcome with the misery of seasickness. Clinging to the railings on the bow of the boat as we careened back and forth like a bobbing cork, we both closed our eyes, willing away the urge to vomit. (If my mom is reading this, I'm sorry for always making fun of you for forcing Dramamine on me every time we've ever been on a boat. In my old age, I can no longer endure roller coasters and boats without pharmaceutical assistance.) If you've never experienced seasickness, you're very lucky. Seconds feel like minutes, hours feel like centuries, and there is no escape from the never-ending rocking and bobbing. Even with the super cool bonus of seeing Great White Sharks, I have very little patience for seasickness.

Seals (aka Shark food!)

After the initial hour of misery, we arrive outside of Shark Alley. The waiting game continued for another hour. Then another. Then another. While the first wave of people wishing to hop in the cage sweated, wandering around in their wetsuits waiting for the sharks to show up, the four of us made the best of the situation, sun(burn)ing ourselves as the boat continued to rock. We waited until late in the day before any real shark sightings took place. In fact, the majority of the shark sightings occurred just after the shark cage was raised from the water, just before the crew was ready to "call it a day." You'd think I would have been soured on the whole shark diving experience, but I wasn't. When the sharks finally showed up (gargantuan, emotionless, shadowy things), there wasn't even time for us to put wetsuits back on. As the crew had explained, sightings were often fleeting, and you couldn't take them for granted. Jumping in the frigid water without a wetsuit had its unforeseen side benefits: When you're too cold to function or even breathe properly, you don't have the ability to feel seasick anymore. 

Go figure!

My encounters were brief, and my time in the cage itself was short, but somehow, waiting all day for those few moments with the sharks was sweeter because I had to be patient for them. Through the sunburn and the seasickness, I had to be patient, and in the end, it paid off. I'd like to be an easygoing kind of person that can shrug off inconsequential, temporary inconveniences. Every day that I'm here, I believe I come closer to being that kind of person, and for that, I'm thankful.

Julie and Jill, attempting to look "aloof," but looking more "green."

"Live every week… like Shark Week." -Jill Macdougal

Michelle's Reflections on Cape Town

Michelle 

As I sit in a garden in Observatory, I look around and wonder what life will be like when I leave South Africa. Right now I am surrounded by vibrant violet-colored flowers, entangled vines growing up old brick walls, and am warmed by the South African sun I have grown to love. I wonder, how will I cope with waking up and not seeing Table Mountain? How will I get through a day without being surrounded by any diversity? I can’t imagine what life will be like back in the States, and quite honestly, I don’t want to.

For me though, this is not about what the United States is not, but rather what South Africa is. In the last few months I have found myself filling my suitcases with paintings, sculptures, dishes, place mats, clothing, and beaded jewelry. The strange thing is, I never buy things - I am, in general, as much of a minimalist as one could be. What I realized today though, is that I am not buying all of these things for their ascetic value, but for their emotional value; I realized that I am trying to take South Africa home with me.

About a week ago, I got ‘ubuntu’ tattooed on my wrist. Before coming here, I never had any real desire to get a tattoo; however, I remember in the first week I was here, a few of us decided that we had to get one while here. For all of us, I think it is a physical representation of how South Africa has fully and completely become a part of us, and has a become embedded into our being.

Since day one, I have been acutely aware of how fast time would pass here, and how I needed to make the most of each moment; and, for once in my life, I can say that I have. Some of my favorite memories are of climbing Table Mountain, going surfing for the first time, bungee jumping, cage diving with great whites, going on a safari and to an elephant and monkey sanctuary, spending time with the children living in the townships, volunteering at the animal shelter, playing in the waterfalls of the Drakensberg Mountains, and spending hours listening to speakers and going through books at the Book Lounge (and of course being attacked by a baboon).

When I look back and reflect, I see how much I have done here. I have seen plays, been to the International Jazz Festival, hiked unbelievable mountains, the list goes on – but, it still doesn’t feel like enough. I am, in no way, shape or form, ready to leave this place. On one of the buildings in downtown Cape Town, there is a sign that says in huge letters, “this place I call home.” Without hesitation, I can say that Cape Town has become my home.

Whenever I try to articulate what exactly it is that I love so much about South Africa, I always fail miserably. I think what it is, and here I am stealing Marita’s words and reflection, is that I love me in South Africa. Here, I am at peace. Here, I feel at home. Here, I am driven by my heart and not by fear or by others’ expectations.

I know that I have changed and grown so much here, and for that I will be forever grateful, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I am terrified to return to Connecticut. Of course I can’t wait to see my family and loved ones (most of all my cats and dog, Monte!), but other than that, I am terrified to return to the old me. Before coming here, I was always filled with a certain amount of restlessness and anxiety. Here, I can actually breathe in, and out, and experience every moment and just be. I am currently reading a book on Taoism and one of the quotes is, “the way to do is to be.” Here, I can be.

I am going to miss waking up to the African sun and falling asleep to the indescribable African sky; I will miss walking to the grocery store and being greeted by the men making beaded flowers and hearing their cheery voices saying ‘good mornings sisi.’ I will miss walking through the tall grass of the commons and seeing the dogs running around playing, and the runners following their daily route. I will miss crossing the street and almost being hit by a car on a daily basis; I will miss the mini-bus hawkers yelling, “Wiiiiiinebeeeeerg,” and “Cape Tiieeeooowwwn.” I will miss being crammed into the mini buses, hearing the blaring and pulsating music, being surrounded by people speaking Xhosa, and seeing the smiling babies wrapped tightly in towels around their mothers or grandmothers. I will miss hearing the unidentified alarm that goes off throughout the night, and waking up to the birds’ calling sound that can only be described as a cross between a cat being slaughtered by a donkey who is simultaneously being beaten. I will miss waking up with hundreds of mosquito bites and lizards crawling on my walls. I will miss going to Muizenburg Beach and passing by all the people standing barefoot in the shops, with their dogs standing by their side. I will miss the indescribable sound of a small community coming together to sing at political rallies, protests, or any other random occasion. I will miss all of the smiling faces in the township of Khayelitsha, and the children! Most of all I will miss the children; I will miss the diversity of this place, and miss being the minority; I will miss our neighbors’ dogs, Billy and Muffin. I will miss the music, the people, the mountains, the sea, the flowers, the air, the land, the animals, the fresh fruit and vegetables. I will miss Cape Town, and more than anything, I will miss me being in Cape Town.

In my months here, there have been tremendous highs and unbelievable lows. I feel like in these last months, I have experienced a lifetime, and am grateful for each moment. In fact, there is not one moment here that I would change, because this has been my experience, and this is the experience I needed (and need) to have.

I will return to Connecticut a different person, a more balanced and peaceful person, and a person who is far more aware of her wants, needs, and desires. The most important lesson I have learned here though, is that I am who I am, and that the path I take will be different than most. Most importantly, I have learned that it is ok. My path in life may not be practical, conventional, predictable or even logical, but it is mine. I now know that I am who I am, and I am happy with that person, and I can now start living accordingly.

When I get on the plane and leave Cape Town, I will not be saying ‘goodbye,’ but rather, ‘See you soon.’ I have now finished my time at UConn and in many ways, for many reasons, feel freed. I know I will be back here soon, as this has become my home, and I finally feel at home with myself.



"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
-Mahatma Gandhi

Chelsea's Reflections on the dichotomy that is Cape Town

Rather than ruminate on all of the things I will miss upon leaving South Africa in two weeks, or all of the ways I will have to readjust to life back in the United States, I’ll take this last bit of collective blog space to take a retrospective look at the study abroad experience as a whole. (I’m sure the latter issues will be covered ad nauseum in the blogs to follow, anyway.)

The prospect of trying to identify all of the subtle ways that our time here has shaped my perspectives on social, political, and economic issues is daunting for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that the impacts of the experience aren’t likely to set in fully until long after I touch down on the other side of the Atlantic. But one thing about which I am quite sure is that our position as study abroad students and NGO interns has given us a very unique perspective on South Africa’s racial, political, and socioeconomic issues.

By now, the discoveries we’ve made regarding the social dynamics and financial situations that most South Africans experience should be evident from the preceding entries. We all have been involved in activism, research, and individual service over the last three months, providing dozens of opportunities to see and participate in human rights struggles on the ground level. But we also have seen another side of the country that is dramatically different and jarringly incongruous with the other. It has been commercial, corporate, political on a national scale, and generally accessible only by the well-to-do: mornings spent within the sheltered, aesthetically pleasing walls of UCT, lunches in the wine lands, afternoons perusing the tourist trap tables on green market square, nights on the town in Claremont and Obs.

Having been able to not only see but engage in both realms of life in Cape Town has been inimitably eye-opening and entirely the result of our position as study abroad students – not quite residents, but certainly not tourists.

On any given day, we might walk the litter-lined streets of Khayelitsha on home visits with the Olive Leaf Foundation, take in a rugby match at Newlands stadium, walk to Pick ‘n’ Pay for groceries on Main Rd, and jog the uphill path to the Cecil Rhodes Memorial on the side of Table Mountain. We might be asked for just a few rand by the stooped man outside the convenience store or have to teach a classroom full of Xhosa-speaking ninth graders how to multiply with fractions. We might lock our bedrooms, the back door, the front door, the door gate and the front gate, and then step out onto Loch Rd to see the ADT security patroller glide past on his bike as we head off to the Jazz Festival in town. We’ve been privy to the inside workings of the electoral system through our connections to the Independent Electoral Commission, we’ve wandered inside the gates of the national Parliament during the annual Budget Address, and we’ve walked the dizzyingly commercial halls of the Century City mall at Canal Walk.

Perhaps the best example of how we perpetually challenged the accepted socioeconomic roles and traversed the line between traditional social classes would be our routine of travelling to the beach on weekend afternoons. On a sunny summer day, a group of us would walk from our suburban Loch Rd. house to the far side of the Red Cross building on Klipfontein Rd, where we’d flag down a minibus taxi to ride into Cape Town. We’d sit squashed between people chattering in Xhosa over the thumping bass of American R&B music for the fifteen-minute ride to the city taxi rank. Then we’d jump out to find the Camp’s Bay line, which we’d take another twenty minutes north to the heavily commercialized strip of tourist beaches. I never could shake the sense of irony that accompanied our stumbling out the side door of the rickety minibus and onto that sun-soaked, palm-lined stretch of ritzy, beachfront cafes. Wealthy Europeans in their straw hats and white linen pants would inadvertently do a double take when we emerged from behind the accelerating minibus. Their expressions tended to mirror the ones we received now and then when we boarded a minibus full of men and women from the townships. Do you know what you’re doing?


Economically, political rhetoric has split South Africa into “two economies”; the First Economy includes the wealthy financial capitalists that interact on the global market, and the Second Economy incorporates the country’s struggling majority, which suffers from as high as 40% unemployment and perpetually impoverished conditions. Unfortunately, such a black and white approach to viewing – and trying to improve – the country has only deepened the divide between the rich and poor, between the traditionally white population and the once-lawfully-subjugated majority.

At times it is this very dichotomy, this bizarrely cruel separation between the “two South Africas” that has driven us to question our purpose (or our role) here. It is the stuff that keeps us up at night, talking in circles about the social and economic change that many parts of this country sorely need. Being able to appreciate – rather than solely lament the gaps between – both “sides” of society in this country has forced us to grapple with feelings of hypocrisy, guilt, and despondency. How can we see the heart-wrenching plight of the masses in the informal settlements, and then turn around in good conscience and walk into a swanky club on Long St. Friday night?

It has been a delicate and emotional venture, learning to find the appropriate mindset to balance the feelings of responsibility and excitement, while also keeping a level head regarding the realities of life in the developing world. We’ve had to find the ways to profess our dedication to social progress, while still inevitably reaping the advantages of our status as (comparatively) wealthy, white, Westerners. Coming to terms with these paradoxes without growing complacent or overwhelmed by their scope has taught all of us a lot about both this place and ourselves.


In the past three months, we have seen these distinct sides of South Africa, as well as all of the many shades between. We’ve seen more of this country than many people who’ve lived here a lifetime have seen. As relative outsiders, our vision has not been clouded by years of internalized Apartheid-era racism and classism, and we’ve been able to understand and appreciate the richness of the diverse nation and geographical paradise. Though we could undoubtedly stay another twenty years and still learn something new everyday, I feel we are poised to leave here in two weeks having acquired a very real, very genuine understanding of a magnificent country.

Our role as observers and sometime-actors in South African civil society has often invited curious inquiries about the nature of our visit and our impressions of the city. Capetonians – especially those we’ve met from the townships – are always eager to hear us compare their country to our own, and when we’ve responded emphatically that we find South Africa to be a wonderful place, many people seem genuinely surprised. Is it? They’ll ask incredulously, as if expecting us to get to the punch line. But after three months’ immersion into the culture, character, and geography of the Western Cape, I know that I can sincerely say—

Yes. It is.


Rhodes Memorial Sunrise