Therapeutic Camp

So it turns out I have one full day between coming back from camp and leaving for Lily of the Valley, and of course keeping you all updated on my life is top priority, so here I am at the internet cafe!
All of this past week I was at a place called Highover, past Richmond and Mgxobeleni, out in the middle of nowhere. It was a camp/wildlife reserve-- but I believe the only only wildlife there was perhaps about 95846094 different type of insects for me to find flying in my face, biting my feet, in my pants, buzzing in my ears, falling down my shirt, smacking into the light/window of my room and in my bed over the course of the week. I really do not like bugs. Except for lady bugs. And butterflies.

Anyway, we had 48 children with us, between the ages of about 8 and 18. All of them are orphans and come from the Pietermaritzburg and Richmond areas. Most of their parents died of AIDS or TB, but they rarely refer to it and say that their parents got "sick."

The first day everyone came in their nicest clothing, especially the teenagers who are in that stage of trying to look good for the opposite sex. I noticed that the kids were carryiing very little bags for a whole week of clothing... or did I overpack? It was definitely only the first day that the clothes were clean, matching, and looking new-- then the sweaters with the holes in them and the torn pants appeared. Then that I realized how clever they were in their attempts to keep stylish as I saw the same clothes over and over again during the course of the week, but on different people. Clothes swapping is a great way to mix up the wardrobe.

For the course of the week we split the two groups up between high school and primary school. I stayed with the high school group for most of the time during the week, mostly because every 54th word or so would be in English so for a few seconds I would know what they were talking about. We spent the first few days on life skills lessons: HIV/AIDS, teenage preganancy, rape, drugs/alcohol, abuse, etc. It is a reality check when you realize how much you have to talk to kids here about these things... in high school I feel like I didn't know nearly this much about such topics because it wasn't as necessary as it is here.

Wednesday was completely focused on bereavement: what it means to lose someone, where people go after they die, how to cope with loss. Apparently I had inspired the last activity we did that day: during the strategic meetings the week before Mthobisi came into one of the meetings really stressed about a social work case she was focusing on to the extent she couldn't concentrate. Even though she is an adult, I knew a somewhat juvenile way to address this. "Mtho, I need you to take your problem and ball it up in your hand." "What?" "Just roll it up in your hand." She looked at me like I was crazy, but held her hand out. "Okay, see that open window over there? I need you to throw it out the window. Don't worry, I know you need to return to it later, and it will be waiting for you outside. But until then, I need you to throw it out the window, get your mind off of it and know you can return to it later." I at least made her laugh as she threw her imaginary ball of stress out the window. She referenced this moment when she told us about the "Unfinished Business" activity the kids were doing: writing a letter to their parents saying everything they wanted to say. Reading it over and over again to themselves, and then taking the chance to rip up the letter and throw it in the nearby river. The past is done and we have to continue with a clear mind and a forgiving heart. We had a funeral service of sorts, and they went down to the muddy river, sang some songs, and threw their ripped up letters into the water. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but emotion is understandable in every language. After they were done we had a mini celebration by the river, complete with singing, dancing, and laughing.. actually rolling on the ground in laughter... at me [the "umulungu"], doing Zulu dance and failing miserably but making everyone smile in the process, which made it all worth it.

It took me a few days to actually connect with the kids because of the language barrier, but I really love kids and figured out a way. One 15-year old girl, Ntobe, came the first day wearing sunglasses. She left those sunglasses on until it was night fall, too cool to take them off. I was a little annoyed at the audacity of high schoolers to sit inside all day and never take off their sunglasses, but when it got to a point where I was sure she actually couldn't see, it put up a warning flag for me-- it isn't because she is too cool. I connected with her by walking a tight-rope of sorts with her across a pond-- she was too scared to do it by herself and I stayed with her and cheered "Woza! Keep with me! All the way to the other side, don't stop in the middle you can do this!" She made it to the other side, we jumped up and down giving each other high-fives and hugs. Later that day she took off her sunglasses and I saw her black eye, something she said her uncle had given her. The rest of that week we talked together and she told me how she hopes in 3 years time her English will be perfect like mine, how she wishes white people in South Africa were as nice as me: "The white people here, they whisper in front of black people. They know we don't speak English well, and they whisper to make sure those who might know English can't hear them. I'm trying to learn English so I can communicate with everyone. Why don't they want to do that? You are trying Zulu language-- I wish you could teach them to try, too."

Za was another high school girl, but she wouldn't participate in any of the activities unless forced. She thought they were stupid and didn't see the need to talk to the adults about anything, or talk at all really unless it was with some other cool high schoolers. I wanted her to talk to me, I was aware that she spoke some English, and I was also aware that her uncle verbally abuses her. My idea was find something that she was good at and liked doing, and go from there. I had found it-- the next morning I went over the girls cabin and asked if she would braid my hair. We talked about my hair texture, leaving home, my boyfriend, and laughed a little. In the meantime, a crowd of about 20 kids had gathered around my head, all touching my hair and staring at my glowing white scalp. Twenty minutes later I had two french braids, a crowd of kids around me, and a small glimpse into Za's life.

The hardest was the little kids-- they do not speak English at all. The two youngest girls, both about 8 or 9, apparently just cried all the time during the activities if you asked them to answer a question. They were really quiet but soooo cute. I sat next to them one day and started drawing a picture... as a little girl, I was always interested in what people were drawing. Suddenly there were 6 young girls around me, watching me and pointing to the people on my page. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded like a compliment, so I said, "Omuhle? [Is it pretty?]" And with big smile on their faces they said "Yebo! [yes!]" and started drawing next to me.

There was one boy that I was really impressed with. He is 11 years old, but the size of 7-year old, with a swollen tummy and skin rashes but an incredibly big smile. So responsible, he came to Mthobisi the first day and told her that he needed to take his tablets at 7am and 7pm every day. He took out his bag of medicine and showed her the 3-4 pills he was to take during each session. It is hard enough for adults to take ARVs to control their AIDS, but to see a child conquer it so easily was humbling to me. ARVs hurt your body and are painful drugs to take, but it is either the pills or your life. He was choosing to live. I went with him and Mthobisi back to his house one day when we realized his grandmother hadn't given us enough medication for the week; he sat quietly in the backseat as we were driving and I thought nothing of it. It wasn't until the last day when he passed by and said, "Good Morning, Brittan" that I realized he actually paid attention to who I was. I responded in shock and said, "Good morning! How are you?" "I'm fine. Thank you." I turned around to Deli [an intern at Thandanani] and said, "He knows my name?" and she replied, "He knows English?!"

So needless to say, by the last day I was pretty attached to this group of kids. I didn't even know all of their names and I could barely speak them, but I really loved them and appreciated their maturity in everything they had gone through in their young lives. Through these exercises they had opened up and made themselves vulnerable by expressing their deepest feelings with other people... I also was made vulnerable by performing a really poor Zulu dance in front of everyone at the talent show the night before... I was told the next day that one boy said "Yesterday I had a happy day because I got to see a umulungu perform Zulu dance." Haha.

The last day we cleaned the cabins and did some revisiting on the week's experiences in our groups. At the end I went to take a group picture of the camp for Thandanani and then a queu/line formed of kids who wanted to take a picture with me... I went through about 20 kids taking pictures with them. One girl asked me to give the photo to Chris Brown or Ne-Yo when I went back to the states, haha. It was hard to let them go because I felt like I was just starting to connect. It was also hard to let them go because we had fed them 3 huge meals and 2 snacks every day for a week, provided them with a group of friends and a source of support, and was then sending them back home, a place where food is hard to come by and abuse is not uncommon... but there is not much I can do about that at this point, unfortunately. It was a great week, nonetheless. On the last day I was given this note from the high schoolers: "You are kind, generous, and even though we don't seem like we appreciate you but we really do. Take care and maybe we will see you. I want you to know that you are funny and you have a good sense of humour-- Keep that!"

Whew. Anywho, tomorrow [Sunday] I am going to another Zulu church at the school across the street and then having a picnic at the botanical gardens that Mona set up because her boyfriend is here visiting from Germany. In the evening I am going to the Carol Service at church and then I am off to Lily of the Valley! Woo!