Irreparably Changed

At our orientation in Toronto, a lot of what was talked about in reference to what it’s like to live in other cultures seemed so distant to me at times. Those kinds of things were only conceptual to me and I couldn’t really grasp them. I couldn’t attach anything concrete and sometimes found myself lost. Now that I am here, six weeks in, I keep finding myself going back to some of those things that were said. All of these little things that I just kind of glazed over in training keep coming back to me. I keep having these moments where I think, “Oooh… so this is what they were talking about.” Today, I had a moment like that. I had dinner at Jenny’s house tonight with Jenny, Fr. Cass (a Catholic priest that came to South Africa in the late 60’s to fight Apartheid), and a woman named Victoria who is from New Zealand and has been here doing work with children’s homes and children’s rights. At one point, we were all sharing our favorite “South African-isms” and Fr. Cass said that living in South Africa is like catching malaria – there’s no cure and you will find yourself relapsing for the rest of your life. He said that there’s something about this place that will never let go of you and always pulls you back.

It got me thinking about how fond I’ve already grown of this place. At training, it was said that when you spend even two weeks in a foreign culture, you are irreparably changed. Never having been outside of the United States/Canada, I didn’t know what this meant at the time, but now I think I understand. South Africa is no longer a concept to me. It’s no longer some foreign place that I’ve only read about in books. Africa is no longer just that continent across the Atlantic. This culture and this language are no longer “other” from me. This is real. I know this place and I know these people. It is and they are a part of me now. If I left today, after only 6 weeks, my life is changed. What will the next 46 bring?

Heritage Day

This week at the Project, we celebrated Heritage Day! Heritage Day is a national holiday that celebrates the array of different peoples that make up South Africa. It celebrates the importance of all South Africans in the development and culture of the country as a whole. At Itipni, everyone showed up in their traditional dress, our morning singing was especially exuberant, and the preschoolers spent most of the day dancing and singing! Jenny even brought me a couple traditional items to wear and Masakude did my make up! Everyone got a big kick out of it. The whole community was alive and buzzing and I don’t think I saw a single frown all day!

Noxolo and Nolundi

Preschoolers singing and dancing!

Thanks for tuning in!

Peace,
Karen

"Slow Clutch"

After two weeks of learning to drive stick and still feeling very amateur, these two words taught me the entire concept of how to drive a manual car. Two days ago, when I was set with the task of driving in town by myself for the first time to take some patients to other hospitals, I squealed the tires more times than I could count and stalled out twice in the stop and go traffic. After our stop at Mthatha General Hospital, a man named Mthetheleli Mbeseli, who was riding in the back, got into the front seat and began guiding my driving. He spoke very little English and just said the words “slow clutch,” the next time I had to start moving again. He repeated it again anytime I shifted. And with the simplicity of that statement, the entire concept came clear to me. Voila! Now I feel very confident in my ability to drive a stick. I even kept myself in place on a hill today only using the clutch and gas – no break! Who knew that someone who has probably never owned a car and speaks a language that I am struggling to learn could teach me, in two words, how to drive. After he said that to me and we were all cruising right along, we even simultaneously pleaded with a stoplight to turn green, he in Xhosa and me in English, and the whole car cheered together when it did. 

That trek began as terrifying one but ended joyously because of two words, a helping hand, and a spirit of camaraderie. More than anything, though, it has made me think about the power of simplicity and how so much can often be revealed in so few words. When something is said simply and clearly, there isn’t any room left for confusion. “Ndifuna isonka” means “I want bread” in Xhosa and there’s no mistaking what it means when a child says it. Furthermore, we use the simplest phrases for the things with the most meaning in our lives. “Be safe,” “I love you,” and “I miss you,” are a few that come to mind presently. It makes me wonder if it is because of the depth of these statements that we keep them short and have faith that the rest is inherently implied. We say very little because the meaning is not in our words, but in our relationships with each other. The same is true in this story. The words “slow clutch” revealed not only the concept of driving standard to me, but also revealed an acceptance and an understanding from the Itipini people that were in my truck. That acceptance and understanding is worth more than I have words for. It has made me feel like I will be able to find a place for myself within this community and has affirmed to me that the people at Itipini have more to teach me than I know.  

Thanks for tuning in!

Peace,

Karen