Bowling in Style

Last night I went bowling with the ladies at my church. I scored 111 points, which although not impressive, if you know me then you know that is pretty darn good for me. What lead me to such a great score? My outfit, of course.

A South African Sunday

Sundays are great days in South Africa… once coming here you quickly learn that this is a very religious and very Christian country. Any given Sunday I am able to walk down the street and simultaneously hear three different congregations singing. I love that.


Today I went to Imbali [local township area] to go to church there. As we drove up there seemed to be a mass exodus of people on their way to church, all dressed in their Sunday best singing praise before they have reached their building. We parked at the bottom of a grassy hill and walked to the top with dozens of other people. Once over the hill I saw the church we were going to… a massive tent [they didn’t have a building]. I walked in and looked at the half-empty tent that seemed to have at least 300 chairs inside. I have suddenly entered a southern Baptist church, choir singers at the front and men decked out in their shiny shoes and very, very sharp suits [I think men look so good when they dress to go to church!]. A woman grabs my hand and leads me to the very front to a row of seats that say “RESERVED” and we sit down [only to then remain standing and singing for a very long time], right next to the speakers [I have no idea when I am going to regain hearing in my left ear]. The singing and dancing commenced, half English and half Zulu gospel songs being sung at the top of their lungs. I have to say, that was the closest thing to a dance party that I have been to since coming to South Africa and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I am starting to think that all South Africans are born with beautiful voices, because everyone here is always singing and rarely does anyone sound bad. I tried not to look too awkward, singing along [despite not knowing the words] and rocking a bit—I have learned how to watch people’s lips to properly fake sing in their language from years of experience going to Melissa’s totally-in-Spanish Catholic church services… but I am sure they knew I didn’t actually know what I was doing.

After an hour of singing, the house was packed and people were standing up in the back. The sermon commenced and although I had made my best effort to not stick out like a sore thumb [which I obviously did], the pastor said how he was going to try his best to give his sermon in English for us… of course there are about 600 eyes all staring my way at this moment. Another guy joined him on the stage and translated everything he said, switching between English and Zulu, and mimicking his every move. The pastor sat down, he would sit down; the pastor threw his towel on the ground, he would throw his towel on the ground. He did a great job.

You can tell what people in the community are struggling with by listening to their sermons any given Sunday; “If you woke up this morning and you have no food, remember God will be there to bless you. If you woke up and still have not been able to get a job for your family, remember God will provide. If you woke up this morning with no hope, remember that God gave you hope through his son, Jesus Christ.” I don’t think in my church at home they ever spoke about waking up in the morning with no food for your family, because honestly that is not a big problem where I live. But here, it is. And as many hardships that the people here have [there are many, many, many], they stay very strong in their faith to God. I think that is a testament in itself, or at least a testament to the power of religion’s ability to give hope. It is so great, and I have never been somewhere like this, where despite the huge struggles that people have they are constantly looking up—God gives them hope for a better future.

The people at church today were very nice and welcoming. They carried their tattered Bibles through the grass fields with them back to their homes, often passing a few other churches on their way. It was a great sight to see.

*After today I will have gone to 5 different Christian churches since being in South Africa. I manage to go to church every Sunday, sometimes twice, and I am just really interested in seeing the different churches… the only issue is, I live somewhere where 87% of the population is black and yet somehow every Sunday I manage to go to churches where there is mostly or all white people. How does that happen? [Well, I know how that happens… I go to church often with the Youth for Christ volunteers, who are mostly from Europe, and it is preferable to go to church in your own language.]
** After some research on Wikipedia, I have come to find that South Africa is not even 2% more Christian than the US (80% Christian population here), but it just seems to manifest itself a lot more here than it did at home.

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!

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!