Dental Week

Happy Dental Week, everyone! This week reminds me of my elementary school days when my mom would send me to school with toothbrushes instead of candy on Halloween and Valentine's Day. I still don't know how I feel about that, haha.
So yesterday we went to the Willowfontein, Pata, Dambuza and Snathing communities with a carload of toothbrushes, apples, bananas, and a dentist from Edendale Hospital. At each of these locations the dentist would talk to the OVCs and their caregivers about oral hygiene and ways to stay healthy by washing your hands, not sharing toothbrushes, etc. while Agnes would translate into Zulu. Everywhere we went she also asked how many of them ate this treat that people sell outside schoolyards [I forgot the name, but it looks like Cheetos]... everywhere they all said yes. Apparently this cheap snack is so bad for you that it creates sore throats, rashes, running noses, and eventually eats away at your stomach-- it is made entirely out of chemicals. Because it is so inexpensive kids eat it all the time! It is sad that people are allowed to sell such a thing, especially outside schools.

After the session every child and caregiver was able to have the dentist give a quick look at their teeth, and if they were in dire need of having an appointment with the dentist they were given a referral to the public hospital where they would be able to see the dentist for free. Then we gave everyone toothbrushes and some fruit. The kids were so happy to have their own toothbrushes!

This will continue on for the rest of the week, but unfortunately I will not be able to tag along because I will be in Richmond doing OVC profile work. I wish I could go-- like I said, it brings me back to my childhood days when I would carry a backpack full of toothbrushes into my classroom and try to convince myself that I didn't look like a nerd. I kind of miss those days.

Weekend Update

This weekend was great because I was able to spend it with some new friends!
Saturday

I walked over to where the Youth for Christ volunteers live and jumped in their vehicle to accompany them on another Heritage Day celebration. This one was much smaller in size and different from the other one I went to on Thursday [the actual Heritage Day], but the community was still excited and of course there was the usual singing and dancing that is at every Zulu celebration. In the beginning there was a gogo [granny/old woman] talking about how things are different with the youth today-- she spoke of the importance for girls to keep their virginity for their husbands and the importance of people having only one sexual partner [a common theme in the fight against AIDS]. She talked about how girls in her time did traditional Zulu dance and now everyone is doing "this strange dance, always shaking your butts on each other"... she demonstrated what she thought that looked like, and it was pretty hilarious. Lastly, she also talked about how in her day girls would make Love Necklaces in order to show a boy she is interested in him.

So this is a very integral part of Zulu tradition: beadwork. In this case, she is talking about the beaded necklaces that girls made for boys, natively referred to as Ibheqe or ubala abuyisse, meaning “one writes in order that the other should reply”. To the Zulu, beadwork is an integral form of communication and Love Necklaces are exclusively important to the courtship process. Girls and young women make these for men of interest and in order to decipher the message, one must be well versed in the regionally specific colors, placement, and geometric patterns. For men, interpreting a message is a difficult task; therefore, experienced mothers and sisters are called upon to help deduce a necklace’s meaning. I would have to try to explain the shapes and the colors in order to try to give you a full picture of what the beadwork can represent, but I do not have much space to do it here and I do not want to bore you! But I am going to try to look into it myself because I think it is a really cool tradition... if I had any bead-making talent, perhaps I would write some messages in beads myself. Unfortunately in Zulu society today, Love Necklaces are principally created as a tool to fund the demand of the tourist market industry. With the rising popularity of Christianity in South Africa, converts have been encouraged not to wear these items because of their original association with "heathen worship." Zulu beadwork continues to be an excellent form of communication and continues to represent personal information about their wearers. Women are able to express themselves and inform others of their situation through socio-political statements regarding HIV/AIDS. Although the beaded love necklaces no longer pertain to love, the template of the necklaces has remained the same and continues to carry messages and you can see many of these necklaces being worn in the pictures that I have taken.

Anyway, after all of that fun I went to the house of my director where a bunch of his friends had a braai [barbeque] with boerewors [sausage] and all watched "Slumdog Millionaire" outside on a projector. Even the second time around, still a great movie.


Sunday

On Sunday morning I repeated the same 45-minute walk to church that I had done the week before. As I was walking back from church I jumped in the back of the Youth for Christ bakkie [weird truck-like thing] and went with them to Horwick Falls. The waterfall was beautiful and there were great arts and crafts shops all around... I loved everything there and basically decided at that moment that I was going to decorate my house with all the beautiful paintings they have there. But... I didn't buy anything. Why? Because I am cheap/poor and they were selling their things at tourist prices. I would hear a price and say, "Hibo! Ukubiza!" [expensive!]. Unfortunately Horwick Falls is a touristy area and so their things are quite expensive. Alternatively I could just take pictures of pretty things and then decorate that way, I suppose. 

On the way home we took a short drive down a red dirt road and saw a few zebras, springbucks, and animals I would call yaks, but I don't remember what they were calling them. At one point we got pretty close to some of the zebras, which was cool. Unfortunately having come straight from church I did not have my nice camera with me to take pictures... but I always try to carry my little one with me so I did get a few shots! :)
After being in the back of that truck I was covered in red dirt, so after taking a shower I put some fresh clothes on and went to church again [a different one]. It was the one many of the YFC volunteers go to, and it was considered the "contemporary service" so there were lots of young people there and I was the only one "dressed up" to go to church. I really enjoyed it, though and had great conversations about religion with some of the volunteers after the service. 

It was a good weekend!

Home Cookin'

So in honor of Heritage Day, the last two days I decided I would take a shot at traditional Zulu cooking. If cooking in a kitchen with a [very] low-powered stove, a tiny toaster oven, and humongous pots [the smallest almost-usable one having a hole in the bottom] wasn't difficult enough, I decided that I wanted to cook food from another culture.
I don't really know how to cook. It is sad, yes, but I happened to grow up with a mother who did a great job cooking my food and then go to a school with a fantastic dining hall system. But, tell me this: if I have a pot of beans on my stove top at the highest heat level for three hours... is it normal for them to still be crunchy? I was supposed to "cook until tender," but "tender" never happened. Same with the potatoes-- they weren't raw by any means, but trying to mash them with a fork became a pretty difficult task even after they had been cooking for hours. Maybe I had too much water, who knows.

Anyway, after eating spaghetti and hot dogs [a.k.a. "meatballs"] all week, I had finally made myself a full-on meal!  I looked in the store for measuring cups so I could follow the recipe, but they had NONE. Really? So it was all guesswork, which was also pretty fun.They say that baking is a science and cooking is an art, so I don't know what these things were supposed to taste like but it was a very edible and enjoyable meal. I made sweet potato soup, isisphuphulu sikabhontshisi namazambane (mashed potatoes and beans), yaskehaya ephekiwe (cooked chicken), and isithwalaphishi (beans and mealie meal mix). So I will admit that I bought the chicken already cooked from the heating rack in the grocery store and that the beans and mealie meal mix was a disaster because I didn't want to wait another three hours for the beans to cook [and I have no idea what maize meal is like when it is actually cooked]. But, I liked the mashed potato and beans, and I made the most delicious sweet potato soup. I loved it. Maybe I will try to make the more complicated stuff soon. Despite the fact my fingers still smell bad and my eyes are still stinging from chopping all that onion, cooking was a lot of fun! I enjoyed it.

Usuku Lwamasiko [Heritage Day]

Every year South Africa celebrates their rich culture on September 24th, Heritage Day. In an address marking Heritage Day in 1996, (former) President Mandela stated:

"When our first democratically-elected government decided to make Heritage Day one of our national days, we did so because we knew that our rich and varied cultural heritage has a profound power to help build our new nation.

We did so knowing that the struggles against the injustice and inequities of the past are part of our national identity; they are part of our culture. We knew that, if indeed our nation has to rise like the proverbial phoenix from the ashes of division and conflict, we had to acknowledge those whose selfless efforts and talents were dedicated to this goal of non-racial democracy."

I was very excited to find a way to go to a Heritage Day community celebration in Honeyville. I went with the volunteers who work with Youth for Christ-- it was funny because I went to their house half an hour before leaving and we just went together... Good thing we got along because it might have been odd to spend the day with a bunch of strangers and then not like each other. I was with 6 other girls between the ages of 19 and 24 and it just so happened that they were in pairs- two from Australia, two from Holland, and two from Germany. Not all of them speak English too well, but it was still great talking to them and asking how they ended up in South Africa.

Anyway, back to Heritage Day. Zulus are very aware of their unique culture and often use Heritage Day as a time to remember King Shaka, a prominent figure in Zulu history. I was so happy to see such an exhibition of culture from this township community. There was lots of dancing from boy and girls, big kids and little kids. There was singing, a funny skit, and what I think was spoken word [all in Zulu, so it was hard to tell]. I love Zulu dance. As you will see in the pictures, you have to be pretty flexible to do it because it involves kicking your leg straight up into the air and rhythmically throwing it back down to the ground. The girls' outfits usually involve beaded skirts, necklaces and headbands, sometimes knee bands and arm bands... for this occasion it just depended on what the family had. The girls are bare-chested, which is very popular in Zulu culture. The breasts are not something to be hidden, they are a woman's best asset as they provide nourishment for the next generation. But I am told that as soon as woman marries, she is to keep her breasts covered.

Much of the Zulu tradition was suppressed in the Apartheid era, so it seems as if they are working hard to revive it by keeping certain dances and traditions very alive in the children. One man was telling me how he is so happy that the children do traditional dance because it gives them a place to stay safe and out of trouble after school. I believe, or at least hope, that the culture won't fade away any time soon.

We had brought food for the community and after the celebration everyone went and got something to eat-- except for us, that is. We were approached by a girl who asked if we wanted to play a game. Okay, I thought, this will be some hand-game or ring-around-the-rosie or something like that. When we went outside, she told us we were playing netball. Netball? I had heard it was like basketball with some very distinct differences... but that was all I knew. The two Australians were the only two that knew what netball was and the rest of us were pretty clueless... we were also going to have to play in sandals/bare feet so that also put us at a slight disadvantage. We walked down to the netball court and I immediately noticed that the opposing team was in uniform... we were playing the Maritzburg regional team. Let's just say it was a sight to see [hence the small crowd formed in order to watch what turned out to be a comedy show]. I wish someone had a camera to take a picture of that mess-- the foreigners getting schooled by the local girls team. I don't know what the final score was, but it was something like one million to three.

Also, just a side note: You can see most all the pictures that I have taken since being in South Africa at http://picasaweb.google.com/brittanbsmith. You have seen most all of these photos through the slideshows I add to my posts, but in case you wanted to take a closer look or comment on them, they are right there!

My First Mail from the States!

Yet another great milestone: my first "post." Today when I walked in Mzandi said, "I have a post for you." It was a postcard from Mackenzie-- I was so happy that I gave the unsuspecting Mzandi a big hug. Although it is a postcard from California, you will notice that it has a Canadian flag on it-- after high school graduation Mackenzie and I went to Canada for a few days to visit our former track coach/resident dean/english teacher... so there is significance.

Despite the sore hole in the bottom of my foot, the rain, and the freezing weather, I went

and did a 2.8km time trial with a woman from church and her 11-year old daughter. I came in at 13:54, which means 8-minute mile pace... better than a few weekends ago. It is amazing how easily you can get out of running shape. I have been trying to do some in-room workouts [provided by Andrew/Runner's World Magazine/Women's Health], and I am a bit sore... mostly from Andrew's workouts, though. Tyson push-ups = death. And last time I did lunges my legs cramped up and I had a sore bum for days. Thanks, Andrew.

And on the topic of fitness, here are two small photos I found online from the 5k

race I did two weeks ago.

Apparently tomorrow is Heritage Day... good thing I realized it was a holiday otherwise I would have been waiting outside for someone to open the office. I am a bit sad because all the cool Heritage Day events happen in Durban [remember, the cool city next to the coast]. But! This morning I called a local organization called Youth For Christ knowing that they have some international volunteers. I called the cell phone of one girl named

Sarah, and she said they are going to go to a community they work with to see the kids put on a celebration and if there is room in the transport I am welcome to come. Yes. Let's hope there is room... if so, this means two things: 1. heritage fun! 2. new friends? Quite possibly.

The weather here is crazy. Last night I went to bed in long underwear with socks on my hands with hand warmers inside them. I was actually too cold to stay up so I went to read in bed, but the socks on my hands made it difficult to turn the pages and then the batteries in my headlamp died. When the weather is like this, I usually go to bed in sweats... but when you do laundry, your clothes do not dry too well in the rain. Good thing I live by myself, because I looked pretty silly!

Zulu Names

In African tradition a great deal of significance is attached to the name that is given to a child-- Zulu culture is no exception. A name often reflects the hopes, aspirations, emotional qualities, historical events, or even family circumstances at the time of the birth. So if a boy is named Kwanele, his name derives from the word "ukwanela" meaning "to be enough"... this indicates that the family now considers themselves complete! They are not planning to have anymore kids anytime soon.

I started reading Nelson Mandela's biography a couple years ago, and remembered that his given name was Rolihlahla, meaning "pulling a branch from a tree;" its colloquial meaning is "troublemaker." I am sure when his father named him that he had no idea what kind of storms he would be stirring in South Africa-- but I am sure we are all glad that he did!

So yesterday Auntie Barbs gave me a Zulu name: Thandeka.* It comes from the word "ukuthanda" meaning "to love." Thandeka translates into "lovable/beloved," as she has decided that I am easy to love and give love back to. Awww.

Many Zulu names are quite beautiful, especially if you know the meaning behind them and pronounce them correctly. A funny Zulu name that I came across was Ntombifuthi, meaning "it's a girl again." There seems to be a Zulu word for every thought or emotion you could have. I am having now looking at a Zulu name dictionary and figuring out what my co-workers' names mean... apparently I work with "surprise!," "rest," "look after the nations," etc.

Nhlanlha, whose name means "luck," just told me that he was given that name because the two babies born before him both died within the first few weeks of being born. He just told me that the elders in your family [gogos] name you around 5 weeks after you are born, and you stay with them for that time so they can find a name to give you. I guess that before that time your name is just "baby."

And there is your Zulu culture lesson for the day!

Sincerely,

Thandeka :)

*quick note on pronunciation: "th" in Zulu does not give the "th" sound you think of... it is actually an aspirated T sound, like the T in "tin." Just like "ch" doesn't make the sound like "church," but rather the aspirated C-click... okay, clicks are complicated so I will save that for another time. But I will say that "sh" is still the shhh as in "shoe" that we all know, so rest assured.

Grocery Shopping for the Little Ones

Yesterday I went with Auntie Barbs to the grocery store, where we loaded up two shopping carts with food for some of the Early Learning Centers. When we got to the ELCs the children were very excited to see us with so much food and very eager to help us take the food out of the jeep. We started at the Zamuphila ELC in Willowfontein and paid a short visit to the Zamokuhle ELC in Pata, where I had made good friends with the children a couple weeks ago.

After we picked up a 15-year old girl who had been identified as needing help by one of her teachers. After her mother died she went to live with her grandmother, who died recently. We took her to where she remembered her father living in hopes to get some help or at least some documentation so that we could help her apply for a government grant. We drove and drove all around until we found the spot she remembered being in when she was little. She went to the house where her father lived only to find out that he had also passed away. Now we are on a big hunt to find the rest of her family members in order to find identification documents and death certificates so we can things going again.Our last stop of the day was Sunfield Home, a place for the disabled. We came to visit Smangele, who happened to be the first child helped by Thandanani in 1989. She was abandoned at Edendale Hospital and it was hard to find a home for her. The women who worked with the then still-developing Thandanani took turns bringing her home every weekend and finding places for her to stay. Today she is 28 years old and the women who were there for her 20 years ago are still going to visit her regularly now. She was so excited when she saw Auntie Barbs walking through the door-- it just shows a little compassion can go a long way.

I am going to announce that I have officially gotten my first South African injury... a precious milestone in my new life. Last night I went to the grocery store to get a snack and while walking back a sizable piece of glass went through my shoe and into my foot. Then I also managed to cut my finger trying to get the glass out, and hobbled home as fast as I could before the blood got everywhere. But not to worry-- the fifty or so alcohol pads my mom made me bring and the delightfully thorough first aid kit Melissa made for me fixed it all up. I am supposed to go running today with a woman from church, so hopefully I can stand the pain and it wont decide to bleed everywhere.

Weekend Update

It is Monday and we are back. Woot.

Saturday:

I woke up Saturday morning desperate for the internet-- I had planned to go to the library and apply for jobs [for when I get back home]. I carried my laptop aaaaaaaaall the way to the library in the middle of the city, fearing for my life because if someone had found out I was carrying a laptop I thought I would surely get mugged. I should have been fearing for my back, because carrying my very heavy laptop in an inconspicuous side bag was very painful. I went to the library, inquired about the wireless internet that I was told they had, and the librarian laughed at me. Wireless? Ha! I then discovered that all of their computers were also shut down "until further notice." So there went those plans. I left the library with a few books, including "Confident Cooking" [which I recently discovered had the 20 pages on baking ripped out] and "Indigenous Zulu Recipes." If I can figure out what "mealie meal" is, I should be able to cook

anything!

I walked through the shopping area on the way home, found myself going upstream in a parade of born-again Christians holding signs about all

humans being sinners and ended up in a 10-minute conversation with a woman who happened to be the pastor's wife. A few minutes later I followed the sound of drums down the street and stumbled into a traditional Zulu dance troop. Unfortunately I only saw a little bit before the store security made them move because spectators were blocking the entrance.

But Saturday afternoon was the best. I think it is the most fun I have had since I have been to

South Africa. I went to Natal Children's Home just to give some personal time to the kids there [there was one caregiver there for over 30 children]. Within minutes of walking in, a skinny freckled red-headed girl was attached to my hip. Her name was Maria and kept trying to speak to me in Afrikaans. I sat down on the field and immediately had a large group of kids circling around me, fighting over who got to sit in my lap and hold my hands. I immediately noticed that none of the children had shoes, except for one boy playing with a flat soccer ball-- he had one shoe on for his kicking foot. One girl kept introducing me to every child that passed by: "This is Auntie Britt! And she is from America! And she has a boyfriend!!! And knows Rhianna and Chris Brown and Beyonce and 50-Cent." I did everything I could to tell the kids that because I am from California, it doesn't mean I am actually friends with the movie stars. They didn't buy it. They played with my hair and told me it looked like wig as I let everyone brag about knowing how to spell their names. I then initiated a cartwheel contest [despite the fact that my legs were asleep from having 6-year old Mpume sitting on my lap the whole time]. They boys came and talked to me about sports, impressed that David Beckham was

playing for the LA Galaxy soccer team, and then really disappointed that rugby and cricket are not big sports in the states [by the way-- rugby I can almost make sense of... but cricket?! No. It is nothing like baseball and it is really, really weird. I don't understand it at all]. I had a chance to spend time with the 17-year old girls who were putting extensions into each others hair, and it was a nice change in conversation to talk to the older girls. It was then back to the younger kids, who were playing "pick-up rocks," which is the same as Jacks, a game my mother tried to teach me but I never got a hold of. It was a busy but very fun and gratifying day! I loved it.

The Natal Children's Home is an orphanage that is walking distance from me and is quite nice a place. There are about twice as many girls there as there are boys, and the children's ages range from 2-years to 19. Many of the children have parents who died or mothers who were drug addicts, etc. Some of the children there are a bit mentally impaired, and sadly that is a reason many of them were put in a home. I met one boy who is very artistic [can sing, dance, draw], fluent in English, Afrikaans, and Zulu, very athletic... but really, really struggles in school. He is good at math, but everything else he usually gets very low marks in. I look forward to spending more time there. My new best friends are all little kids!

Sunday:

I walked nearly 3 miles to get to church and it was worth it. The familiarity was nice-- same church as at home, but different people. It was arguably the most diverse place I have been since landing in South Africa; there were whites, blacks, and Indians and many languages represented [but the service was in English]. I was invited over for lunch by a family after church, becoming a new playmate for their children who insisted that I go up in their tree house despite the fact I was wearing a skirt. It was a nice Sunday!

I am sorry my blog posts are so long!

Happy Friday!

You know what I didn't bring? Mittens/gloves. My hands are so cold-- but this is just the transition from winter into spring over here, so it should be warming up again soon. This morning I greeted many of the women that I work with with a hug-- I thought it would make a Friday morning better and selfishly, I wanted a hug myself.

It is weird that I have been in South Africa, yet I seem to be learning about Indian culture more than anything else from hanging out with Therusha. When we get into small arguments such as what is considered a "truck" and what is considered a "van," she always says "By the time you go home we'll have you talking like an Indian!" Last night she invited me to her church service-- and I will admit it was like nothing I have ever seen before. I have been to many, many church services, but they are always Christian services so there is always some sort of familiarity. She worships the Sai Baba, which is so interesting a concept that I thought I would share it with you all. It is kind of a Hindu/Islamic/Christian religion, and I am going to explain it to you the way that I understand it, so there may be some errors.

Therusha told me that this man is a living god, and they knew he was the Sai Baba [there was one before him] because he was born with amazing powers. His followers report many miracles that they attribute to him-- Therusha became a follower when she was healed after being blind for 6months last year. As we sat at the service,

she would point: "That woman had her cancer healed." "She couldn't walk, but now she can." The most interesting thing about all of this: when he dies, everyone is to worship Jesus. After this man passes away, it seems as if people are supposed to then

become Christian? In the service all the women sit on one side in white punjabis, all the men on the other side. In the front there are many photos of the Sai Baba and candles all around his image and some images of Hindu gods. There was a woman dressed in an orange robe that transformed into the Sai Baba [she started walking, talking, everything like an old man] and gave his teaching on loving one another [from what I could understand in the thick Indian accent]. She [/He] then kept putting large flames of fire in her mouth... but I am not sure what the purpose was. Then at the end everyone went up, knelt at her[/his] feet, got a dot on their forehead with white powder, and then picked up some sweets... I didn't feel comfortable going to touch the feet because it kind of felt like idol worship to me, but I was happy to watch and try to understand everything that was going on. So when I say this is the most different religious

service I have ever been to, I really mean it. It was just so odd to me that after he dies-- everyone worships Jesus.

Other than that-- it is the weekend! Yay. On Saturday I plan on going to the Natal Children's Home and helping out with the kids, hopefully going to the library earlier in the morning to see if they

have internet, and then church on Sunday. I also need to finish the work I am doing in photoshop to make these huge posters for Thandanani for a celebration that is coming up, despite the fact that my computer keeps telling me that I am pretty much out of disk space. During some of this time I am going to try to find this volunteer hostel that apparently has a few international volunteers living there that are around my age... I keep being told that they are "just around the corner" but I have been walking around these corners and I don't know what people are talking about. So I am going to call and investigate... and that's my weekend!

Ikhayami [My Home]

So this is long overdue, but I do need to share with everyone what my life is like over here.

I feel as if I have the best of both worlds-- I get to work in tow

nships where help is needed the most, but I live in

the city. I live in Pietermaritzburg [affectionately called 'Martizburg by many whites/Indians and umGungundlovu by many

blacks], which is the capital city of the province of KwaZulu Natal, which is eastern South Africa. Unfortunately

, being in the capital city does not mean this is the exciting place to be-- all the fun stuff happens next to the coast in Durban. It is kind of like how Sacramento is the capital of California, but why go there when you can go to San Francisco/Los Angeles/San Diego? But either way it is a city, so I am not out in the rural parts and instead just a hop, skip, and a

jump away from the grocery store. With my few minutes of daylight left after work, I usually quickly walk to the city center and look at the shops, the library, etc. I usually do not have enough time to actually browse in the library [but I got a library card! Yay!] or look through the shops because I get off of work at 4pm and everything closes at 5pm

... and it takes a little while to walk down there. But I do it anyway because once it gets dark I am inside by myself, watching The Oprah Winfrey Show.

I live in the back house of Thandanani

Children's Foundation. It is where they used to have therapeutic weekend retreats for orphans, but South Africa is also experiencing an economic downtur

n so this is one of the many programs they have had to let go with their limited budget. It is bitter-sweet, considering that I now have a place to live. I have my own room and I use the bunkbeds as a closet/dresser. I put two chairs together and covered it with a towel to make a bedside table for my books [I read every night with a dorky headlight on before I go to bed], and used clips to hang a mirror to the metal bars of of one of my windows-- I felt like McGiver [or

whatever his name was]. My bed has a mattress made out of soft foam, and after the first night of sleeping it I have made a large, permanent dent in the middle from my body weight and it

swallows me up every night, haha. I have a

little lounge area with a television [I get 4 channels- SABC1, SABC2, SABC3, and ETV]! The bummer is that I have to go outside to get to the bathroom and the kitchen, which are two separate rooms that have locked doors to the outside. And because I don't like going outside when it is late at night [it is cold and I am always afraid someone will be out there], I think this will eventually lead to either a bladder infection or extreme dehydration because there is no accessible water in my room [the first weekend here I didn't have water at all, so this is an upgrade].

The conditions of the bathroom and kitchen aren't great, but considering what I could have had, it is pretty nice. There are 3 showers in the bathroom [remember, it was for retreats], but only one works. The light in the bathroom is small and over the toilet, so I am always showering in the dark... but I have [scalding] hot water! Always a plus. The kitchen has a refrigerator and a to

aster oven with a stove top, a washing machine that doesn't work and a hot water kettle. There is also a small arrangement of enormous pots, ranging from size large to size gargantuan. The lights for the bathroom and the kitchen are both on the wall inside the bathroom, which is one of the many odd things this building has. But, I have plenty of beds, so if any of you want to come visit [hint, hint] I have a place for you to stay!

There are 5 separate keys needed to function in this building. Two for the room door [metal

screen-type thing, actual door], one for the bathroom, and then two for the

kitchen. Then there is the key for the outside gate, two keys to get into the office, one for my actual office room. In total, I carry around 9 keys on a daily basis, 3 of them being skeleton keys. Also, behind all of these keys, barb wire, metal gates over the windows, bright spotlights and an alar

m system [that I don't know how to activate]... you would think that I felt safe at night living by myself. But it is easy to jump over the front gate and I am sure someone could snatch me up while I am on the way to the bathroom or break in through the window and still kill me. Yes, I am paranoid and freeze at the sound of every leaf blowing and all the noises from the street. I am a scaredy cat and I will admit it! I am told I live in a pretty decently safe place-- but then why all the precautions?! Yes, I think perhaps the warnings of women constantly getting raped and the existence of the barb wire around me might be enough make me a little scared.

I wake up to the sound of these crazy huge, loud crow-sounding birds that live in a tree next to my window and roosters who have no idea when the sun is actually coming up. I also sleep to the sounds of chants, cries, drum, singing, and animal slaughtering on weekends because of my sangoma next door neighbor. There are few mosquitos [not hot enough yet], but the ants have come in full force and I have nightmares about them. And that's my life in a nutshell.

Dirt Under my Fingernails

I have dirt under my fingernails, and no matter what I do it doesn't seem like it wants to come out anytime soon.Today I went back to Silwanetshe Primary School's food garden, this time with Phumlani, and we harvested spinach, beets, and lots of carrots for the caregivers of OVCs at that school. In the end, we put fresh vegetables at the dinner table for 11 families tonight, and they were so happy! And I was covered in mud. I tried some of the carrots and they were delicious.

After the food distribution I went with Phumlani on two home visits, I was amazed at how the dirt turned from brown into a deep and vibrant red. The houses were also much more spread apart where the red sand was, and there was what looked almost to be a mansion in the middle of all of it [some important government official lives there... there were even body guards]. This red sand area is where the second home visit was. There is a woman whose own child has already grown, moved away and is about to have her first baby. Her husband, who was a sangoma [traditional healer] passed away and left her with nothing. She takes care of her mentally challenged uncle and six children-- one is an orphan and the others the parents did not see themselves in a position to care for. Her house crumbled to the ground and now they are all living in the small circular room of sangoma hut, a small grill in the middle of the floor to cook on. And, she has no income. I feel like that is so much pressure on one person. Fortunately, she loves gardening. So we told her to just get her soil ready and we will bring her seeds-- this way she will at least be able to provide her own vegetables. She is an incredibly nice woman and I am glad that Thandanani is going to be able to help her out with the paperwork so she can at least get a foster care grant for the orphan she is raising.

Thandanani = Google?

I have a feeling that working with Thandanani might be like working at Google. If I work at Google again after this year, I feel like it might be good practice.
When I say it is like working at Google, I do not mean all the employee perks you hear about in the news. You can replace the free meals, table massages, complimentary transportation and heated toilet seats of Google with the warm, fuzzy feeling you get in your heart at Thandanani. What I am talking about is Google's habit of throwing unsuspecting newcomers into projects and letting them loose with a pat on the back and a smile. That is just how it works there-- you step into the first day of work, they tell you they have a problem and you need to be the brains to fix it.
One of my many projects here is to make an evaluation system of the beneficiaries from the Thandanani programs. My director would love to have a neat little report of how the work they have done has impacted the caregivers and OVCs they cater to, sitting on his desk by the end of November. Here are some of the stumbling blocks I have come to on this one:
1. I need to figure out what exactly in all these programs the coordinators and their teams want to evaluate. Meaning I have to find a way to meet with them despite the fact that most people are running around in the townships all day with their projects.
2. I am supposed to make focus groups. How do I coordinate focus groups of people out in townships? I would have to have these people identified, then find a way to contact them [not like I could send them an email], and then tell them a time and place. A place? I don't know those areas at all, and they don't have addresses. How about the corner with the cows and the goats eating out of the trash, with baby chicks and piglets running around them. Wait, that isn't that every corner?
3. I am still at a total loss at how to use the public transportation into the townships. I know how to get out of the townships, but even if I could get into the townships I would have to know the place well enough to which dirt road to stop on. Right, the one with the goats eating out of the trash.
4. Oh yeah, I DON'T SPEAK ZULU. Interesting obstacle, isn't it?

So my plan is to employ a sidekick [I am thinking the intern that sits at the front desk?]. Maybe even two. And then I will have a beautiful, scientific report written up, on Duncan's desk in November.

Tomorrow I am going with Phumlani back to the school with the food garden from next week. We are going to teach them how to harvest all the vegetables so they can take them back home for supper. Yay! And then we are doing home visits for the rest of the day. Let's hope the weather is nice!

Weekend Update

What a weekend!
Saturday:
I met up with Jean Junior! She just graduated from Harvard, too! She was also in my classes [she studied Sociology, too]! English is her first language, too! She is also doing work in Pietermaritzburg! We went to the mall! It was amazing! There was spaghetti sauce and granola bars at the supermarket there! It was like heaven! There was a big bookstore and I bought a Zulu dictionary! It was so exciting! Then I went to pick up my number for my 5K on Sunday, and got a free shirt! And goodies!

So I feel like in my blogging, I am supposed to share with you both the ups and downs of my trip, to be completely honest with how I am feeling. I will admit, Saturday night was a "down" part. I started off singing to myself, "It's a Saturday night and I ain't got nobody, don't have no money because I don't get paid, and how I wish I had someone to talk to... da da da da doo doo da." Then I went to write in my journal how exciting it was to have a friend [Jean, who was actually pretty quiet in all my classes]. I really liked having someone to relate to... and someone who also missed Harvard. I then wrote:

"Call me crazy, but I actually miss school. I miss Harvard. I miss the familiarity of Harvard Square. I miss always having something to do and someone to talk to. I miss the diversity of people and the diversity of experiences that I encountered every day. I miss riding my bike across campus, anytime day or night. I miss my bed, my room, my suite, my house, my campus. I miss being forced to meet people through classes, meals and activities. I miss blending in. I miss the late-night talks. I miss my friends, my roommates, my team. I miss having someone who understands me. I miss being able to call home. Most of all, I miss the hugs... I haven't had one in a long time."

By this point I am crying uncontrollably. Oh man, crying so hard that my head was hurting, my eyes were stinging, my teeth were throbbing [weird, I know, but it happens when I cry for some reason]. I then was on a frantic mission to make a phone call to the US, but there wasn't a speck of wireless signal around me, the phone cord in my room had been cut, and my cell phone wouldn't dial out. I felt trapped and alone in my room, and I was heart broken. This is when I realized that a year is a very, very long time. Looking back at it now, I feel really silly about all of this, but I guess it is supposed to happen to everyone at some time. Nevertheless, I still feel really stupid about all the crying that I did. Don't feel bad or sorry for me, but at least you know that I am a normal person with real feelings that actually misses people, haha.
I thought about how everyone says that when you are feeling like this, you should go to the Bible for comfort. That was the last thing I really wanted to do, because my eyes were hurting and my nose was all snotty and I was already frustrated with the fact that I lost my red scripture marking pencil. But, I opened it and it fell right to Ephesians 3, which lead me from one verse to another regarding strength. I actually felt better after. It was like the best hug I could get at the time.

Sunday:

This morning was like a flashback to my first 5K race in high school, when I was 15. It was painful and I reverted right back to my bad habits of short strides, tight arms, and fast breathing. Embarassingly enough, I even walked for about 1/2 km-- something that I always told the girls on my cross country team not to do: "I don't care if you do a slow granny jog," I would say, "just don't give in and walk." Well, I did. And I watched the little kid with no shoes on run right past me. Oh well. I got beat by a lot of little kids this day. Four, to be exact.
In the end, I clocked in at a somewhat embarassing 27:00. But, I have excuses, which do not even count my lack of recent physical activity, my bulky "fast-twitch" muscles, the fact I haven't run such a distance in 5 years, or even my slow death due to the second-hand smoke I am inhaling here. But, what do you do when you are in a race with 2,300 people, at least 1,000 of them in front of you at the starting line. Then, 500 of that 1,000 being walkers. Then at least 20 of those walkers pushing strollers or holding hands in a chain of small children/old people. It is quite difficult to get through that.
I also feel a wasted a bit of time when the official at the corner kept telling me to go the wrong way, to do a section of the course over again. "5K this way, 10K this way. First-time 5K this way." He kept pointing. I stood in front of him and said, "Where do I go for the second-time 5K?" "This way for the 5K." "No, I have already been there. Where do I go for the second part?" "10K this way, 5K this way." "This is my second time! I did the loop already!" "OH!!! Well, then you go over here." Ugh. That man wasted at least 30 seconds of my life.
But in the end, I came in 6th overall for the 5K [remember, it was only women and children, the hardcore women did the 10K] and 2nd in my division. My hidden agenda was to go there, see women in running club attire, and ask them where and when they went running... if I could join them. But, I somehow ended up at the finish line before the rush of people and had to get home and change for church.

Life Skills Program

Sometimes I am at awe at how many angles Thandanani tries to tackle the emotional, physical, and mental sensitivities of orphans and vulnerable children in the area. That is why I love being here with them.

Today I went with Fikile to the Richmond Municipality, which is a long combi ride out into the more rural areas around here. I actually loved how small-town and rural the area was, with their first Spar [grocery store chain here] opening up less than a year ago. It was so green and between the houses you could see the plush trees decorating the hills behind them. We went to KwaMlalili Primary School and held the second session of the Life Skills program for a dozen newly identified orphans. Thandanani goes to many schools and finds children that have been recently orphaned to invite them to a 14-week program to give weekly lessons on empowerment, community support, bereavement, self-esteem and other practical matters such as AIDS. It is great because it gives these children someone to talk to an a safe space to express their feelings with adults who want to listen and other young children who empathize.

We started the session off with drawings of cars they had brought in-- What kind of car are you?

The body of the car represented what you like about your body

The doors: your boundaries

The wheels: what goals keep you going

The engine: what drives/motivates you

The fuel type: what rejuvenates you when you are down

The children also filled out a chart of the people around them-- their family, friends, school, community, government... despite their loss, there are still people out there who want to support and help them. They ended the session writing a letter to themselves to be opened again in 3 months. Hopefully by then they will have found a way to think about their loss in a healthier way. This is a great program and I think the exercises that they give to the children are great for them to go through... I am glad I can help. We gave them hotdogs and soda after, which was very exciting.

I noticed most all of the students there had holes in their socks and uniform sweaters that were faded into a different shade of blue and/or had holes that had been stitched and restitched time and time again. Even the condition of the school was apparent from seeing all the broken windows into the classrooms. Unfortunately, this is still nicer than many of the public schools in South Africa. I really wish that children in America would realize how fortunate they are, especially since the U.S. is one of the few countries where "public" school is actually free-- in the two countries I have done service in [Indonesia and South Africa] and many other countries, public just means cheaper. I am so fortunate to have gone to such great schools! Thank you, Mommy, for always teaching me that education is important and a blessing... it makes all the work I do here really mean something.

Chubby

Today celebrates my two-week anniversary of being in South Africa. In these two weeks, I have found it incredibly frustrating to be female traveler-- not only can I not go out after it starts getting dark [limiting my human interaction to the hours of 8am-4pm while I am at work], but I also can never go on a run. Ever. Not even during the day is it safe for a female to go on a run [I have seen many men running, but I have yet to see a woman engage in physical exercise]. I guess I could find a running partner, except I can't seem to convince anyone that running could be an enjoyable thing. This is actually quite frustrating. I really want to work out. I even am walking distance from a park and a river, but I guess I would rather get fat than raped/mugged/killed... all which has happened at this park in the last few months. :::sigh:::
Another reason I want to work out is due to my incredibly unhealthy cuisine. I live down the street from a grocery store, except everything that I know how to make with my limited cooking facilities [a toaster oven and a portable stovetop that take 20 minutes to boil water] seems to not exist. Like spaghetti sauce. They don't have it. So do I make it out of one of their two options-- tomato paste, or tomato relish? I could make it from scratch, but at the time I was sitting in the grocery store pondering this I had no idea how to off the top of my head, and no way to call my life-line [my mother]. After spending half an hour in the grocery store earlier this week realizing that mutton was in fact lamb meat and not something I could find in the spice aisle, I have given up. I tend to eat potato chips [they have amazing flavors], porridge that claims to be very healthy, lots of yogurt and granola, and plenty of pasta/soup disasters [which I blame on the faulty stovetop]. Oh, and of course candy and the occasional Indian food from Therusha. So... I would argue that the eating habits of these last two weeks have not been the best, especially as I "taste test" the potato chips and candy.
Is it possible to feel plump/chubby/tubby/fatty in just two weeks? Yes. It is. I don't have a scale, so I don't actually know how much I weigh [I would have to convert from kg to pounds, anyway], but I am sure a little bit of it is mental. I just hate being caged in and forced into laziness. Sometimes I do sit-ups on my floor, but now that I am chunky they become increasingly harder, haha.
So, I thought I would fix this issue. On a whim, I have entered myself in a 5K race for this Sunday. Not only have I not exercised in weeks, I have not run this distance in years [since high school-- fall of my senior year which you see pictured]. I am going in nearly cold turkey. I am sure I will not be able to walk the week after, but it will be worth it. It will make up for weeks of lost fitness... and it will be like have 900 other running partners!

I am going to be in the Spar Weekend Witness Ladies Race, which is for women and "confused men." Haha.Although the "confused males" are not eligible for the free t-shirt, the site says, "there is a special prize sponsored by Castle Lager, for the best cross-dressed confused male entrant." So there you go, we are both winners.
From the races I have seen in the US, there is usually a 5K race, and a 2K "fun run." But everything that I have seen here has a 10K race, and a 5K fun run for the children. So I will be running with the children and old people, but I do not mind. It just goes to show how much more distance-oriented Africa is than the US.
Considering my current physical condition, I will be lucky if I finish the race in under 30 minutes. No really people, I am not joking. I started stretching last night in preparation for this race... and that is all. Now, I am going to aim for under 26 minutes, but I am not shoot for the sub-21-minute races that I used to have in high school. I am not a teenager anymore. Wish me luck. :)

Zamokuhle Early Learning Center

Today I was with Auntie Babs again to go to the ELC in Pata [where I did home visits with Agnes last Thursday], called Zambuhle. This ELC was in a tin can... no, really. Look at the picture. They had a small esthini [brick] building, but the consulate for the region said he needed the building back to use as an office [that was in May, and they have yet to use the building]. So instead they have been in what they are hoping is a temporary structure, a small room made almost entirely out of sheet metal. The heavy morning rains proved to be a problem today, not only making it so most of the kids did not come to the ELC today, but also a leaking problem that they were trying to fix by placing bowls and buckets around the floor. The walls were adorned with homemade alphabet, number, weather, and colors chart, including a crayon picture that broke my heart: "HIV/AIDS: Please hug me, I won't make you sick."

I love these kids. They loved me [especially the babies]. There was a wise guy [you can tell which one I am talking about in some of the pictures] who after hearing my name said "Brittan! I have never heard a name like that before!" Then he took all the kids and introduced them to me [in Zulu, of course]. They practiced their colors and the alphabet, and before playing outside they ate lunch. Because the building for the ELC has no cooking facilities, the parents are asked to pack a lunch for their children-- most of them had a lunch of bread and butter sandwiches because that is all their families could afford. They ate on the floor, which was made with a mixture of plastic flooring, rugs, and newspapers.We played "ring around the rosies" and other games, then sang them lullabies to go to sleep for their naps.
I am always so impressed at how well-behaved these children are. They still run around and act crazy, but as soon as you tell them to do something, they do it. I feel that things such as "time out" are weird American inventions for child-rearing. Even when it was time to take a nap, they took out the nap mats and everyone jumped onto them and closed their eyes as we sang [even those who were not sleepy still laid there]. From this experience, these kids have taught me a few valuable lessons:
1. Babies and small children are also like cabbage, carrots, and beets... they too do not care what language you speak. I was helping them with their ABCs today and they just thought it was funny that I didn't know how to say the animals pictured in Zulu. [I even had to help the adults with the ABC book because it had obscure things like Iguana, Walrus, Seal, Quail, and Yak...] If you love a child, it will love you back.

2. Children are not made of glass. In fact, they can run around, fall, roll down a hill of dirt into a bed of rocks, and then have another child trip over them... and they will get up, think about it, smile and continue playing. I fear that Americans over-parent their children, running to them whenever they fall... but then that must teach them that it is time to cry because the parents are so fussy about them falling. These kids never cry. They fall down, wimper for about two seconds, get back up and continue playing. The kids here run all up and down streets, hills, into muddy ravines... and they are fine.
3. Sharing is caring... and it is cute. Today two of the youngest toddlers sat down and were sharing a naartije [like a mandarin orange] and a bottle. Didn't think anything of it. One baby had food and the other didn't, so she just gave him some. She even put it in his mouth for him.
4. Even children in Africa know that if someone takes a picture of you, you should be able to see the picture on their camera's viewing screen the next second. Digital cameras have ruined people and promoted vanity [just ask teenage girls who take pictures over and over again until they feel they look good]. When I have kids, I am going to raise them like it is the 1990s, before the digital camera boom [when we used to use film... remember that?] so they don't know you can see the picture on the screen. Life was simpler in the '90s.

And that's all for today. It was cold enough that I wore long underwear under my pants today, haha [because my jeans are still wet from the wash so I had to wear thinner pants]. Winter temperatures are still here, but it should warm up since it is officially spring.

Logistical Stuff

Hello friends and loyal blog enthusiasts,

Here is some information that you maybe looking for that should be relevant at least for the next three months:

my mailing address [rumor says it takes a while, so start sending now!]
Brittan Smith
c/o Thandanani Children's Foundation
PostNet Suite 30
Private Bag X9005
Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu Natal
3200
SOUTH AFRICA

my phone number [9-hour time difference for west coast, 6 for east. use Skype to call cheaply!]
+27 082-905-3810

the blog i am doing for thandanani [watered-down version of this one]
http://thandanani.org.za/index.php/component/option,com_idoblog/view,idoblog/

I am sorry to those who have been getting these sent to you by email and have gotten tons of emails from me today. I tend to blog all at once when I have the chance to do it. :) This is the last one for today, I promise!

Food Gardens

I like gardening.
Do you know why I like gardening? Because you don't have to speak Zulu to water plants. Anyone can water the carrots or the beets-- they don't know the difference. They don't even care. I finally found something that I am good at.
I went with Thabani to Willowfontein to work on the garden at Silwanetshe Primary School. Thandanani goes to schools and households to develop and teach them how to maintain their very own food gardens. At first, we build then fence around the plot, plant the seeds, talk about watering the plants and how/when to harvest. Then we occasionally drop by to check on the maintenance and give more seeds. Then hopefully the community will be able to sustain the garden and profit from the vegetables by having something to feed their children at dinner. This is their food. It reminds me of a popular Chinese proverb: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. This is such a great program for all parties involved.
Hopefully, next week we will meet with the children at this school and teach them how to harvest the vegetables and help them get all the vegetables out of the garden so they can take them home and give some of them to the school lunch program.[It may take a bit, though, because this area has lots of water troubles and it is hard to get enough water for the plants.]
At first I did not think much of the gardening aspect of the service I am doing, but now I love it. All I really did today was water the plants [as I froze in 12 degree C (54 degree F) misty rainfall], but I could see why this project was so important.