Return to the States- Process of Bringing Ubuntu Home

The return back to the United States has been manageable thus far.  I got picked up from the airport and immediately hit up my favorite food spots with my mom and had bagels for breakfast, penne vodka with salmon lunch, and a lobster Cantonese dinner.  I saw some family, lounged by the pool and did some reading.  These foods and seeing family helped mask any sadness that I knew was looming after the initial excitement of being back home faded.  Besides me forcing myself to stay up for the entire day in order to adjust to jet lag, the first day back was great.  I just woke up this morning at 7A.M. (EST), which is 1:00 PM in South Africa.  The initial emotion that hit me when waking was initial confusion of where I was, shock, and a sense of sadness.  Sadness from not being able to see the faces I’ve seen on a daily basis for the past month, and a sense that something else was missing.  What struck me from my return home so far is the difference in something that is intangible, but a feeling of something missing in the air, the sense of Ubuntu, although being with my family has helped tremendously. 

 

Ah, America (JFK).  Good to see you.

Remembering what my Professor said helped me know that my trip did not actually end yesterday, but in a sense has just begun again.  She told us we could make our trip to South Africa an event or a process.  In an attempt to make this a process, I believe this transition period is important to making sure that happens.  Therefore, I began reading a book that I purchased for my brother, called “Ubuntu!”, an inspiring story about an African tradition of teamwork and collaboration that I hoped would help my brother bring what I learned during my experience to his business and workplace.  The main ideas from this book is how to bring Ubuntu to life wherever you go, Ubuntu meaning the 

“profound sense that we are human only through the humanity of others; that if we are to accomplish anything in the world, it will in equal measure be due to the work and achievement of others” (Nelson Mandela).   

During the past couple of years, I have, as any person in their twenties will do, have been experiencing life, the good and the bad, to determine what makes me happy and what doesn’t before settling down.  Unknowingly, my strategy in doing this was to find what makes me happy and go to that place to live.  It is for this reason I strongly considered moving to Hawai’i, for it’s natural beauty, Aloha spirit, culture, people, and way of life.  However, at that time I knew in my mind that I had wanted more professionally and intellectually than Hawai’i could offer. Being at NYU and setting a new career path has validated this decision and being in South Africa has helped me learn a new strategy to my twenties: Stop thinking happiness will come to you based on geography, but bring the happiness you find in other places to wherever you choose to live.

Reading this book was great timing as I have made it my goal to not be down about what is missing from South Africa, but to use this as a challenge to bring that Ubuntu to my life in New York City.  I told my mother that reading this book on Ubuntu will help sum up my past month’s experiences more than pictures and stories will ever do.  It begins with a quote from Steve Biko (1970), a political activist who died for his beliefs: 

“We believe that in the long run the special contribution to the world by Africa will be in the field of human relationship.  The great powers of the world may have done wonders in giving the world an industrial and military look, but the great gift to come from Africa- giving the world a more human face.”

Furthermore, the last things I want to take away from this book to help continue the process of this study abroad trip and hopefully help whoever is reading this further understand and spread Ubuntu are the following:

-       “Ubuntu is a philosophy that considers the success of the group above that of the individual”

-        “To engage another person in an authentic way releases the most powerful energy on the planet”

-       “The first step to bringing Ubuntu to life is discovering it in your own heart. Ubuntu comes from our natural energy within”

-       “Ubuntu starts with recognizing and embracing the humanity, the equality, and the value of each person”

-       “You can’t just do Ubuntu. You have to be Ubuntu”

So here’s to Day 1 of being Ubuntu in the United States…

Two Worlds in One: Reflections on South Africa

Before coming to South Africa, the only prior knowledge I had of this country, even the continent, are images from textbooks, stories from newspapers, and stereotypes of the continent that were created by a population of people in which most of us have never visited the land itself.  Poverty is the first thing that comes to mind when imagining the continent. I even wondered if I would be able to drink the tap water when I arrived (if tap water was a reality) or if I would be able to access simple medications during my time here (Yes, they do have Advil! Crazy stuff). I was fortunate enough to visit this country with the lead of not only someone who grew up in South Africa, but someone who was a leader in creating the South Africa that is in existence today.  I’m grateful to have been a part of a program designed to see South Africa with a critical lens as we learned about the education and social reforms of the country, which need much more than a month to ever fully learn everything in that context, but I’m confident this will not be my last time on South African soil.

Image that I thought personified me entering South Africa naive (poorly). Also, this is my hotel room.

Me and a few colleagues in Robben Island Prison
(Photo Cred: Elizabeth Patterson)

In looking back on the experiences of the trip and the program, I think about how different the country would seem from the lens of a tourist, compared to the lens of a student seeing the country with the knowledge and experiences that my Professor has empowered us with.  By being exposed to the many experiences that the program includes, such as visits to Cape Town, the apartheid museum, poor townships, Nelson Mandela’s hospital, a homestay with a family in Soweto, discussions and lectures with government officials, visits to several Universities, elementary schools, high schools, discussions with NGO’s battling AIDS/HIV and helping build better schools, and hearing the stories and viewpoints of local South Africans, including the plethora of knowledge from my Professor, helped me to shape a new image of South Africa; one that is not just poverty but one that is much more complex than my previous stereotyped image led me on to believe.

Student leadership panel discussion at University of South Africa

 I made the mistake of stereotyping an entire country, even worse, an entire continent.  Instead, I discovered a country of two worlds co-existing in one.  I see this on a daily basis as I live in comfort of my hotel room then leave the doors to a daily occurrence of men approaching me asking for change.  These are men who do not have jobs, but are there every day, directing cars into parking spots and then asking for change from the drivers- a common thing to see in South Africa.  (Side note: The South Africans are able to see the humanity in these people and they are treated with respect and dignity, for the most part.  Some colleagues of mine have even befriended some of them. Ubuntu. This will make me think to not “see” next homeless person I see on the subway next---but man will I be overwhelmed after the 10th one in 1 day, but I’ll try my best.) I saw the South Africa of two worlds in the different schools I visited.  The starkest contrast is that the schools with the least amount of money and the schools that had the least, gave the most.  It was at these schools that we were welcomed with a warm greeting of song and open arms, coffee and tea, and even the poorest school we visited with a minimal library and not enough supplies and books for the school, fed us lunch prepared for us by the community. 

 

Students singing and giving us an incredibly warm welcome at an elementary school

Visiting a Kindergarten Class. Great teacher who made the most of the little resources she had.

Book donation ceremony. A past student from this program found a way to get all of these books from NYC Public schools delivered to various schools in South Africa.  Inspiring, for sure.

Then there were schools that were established during apartheid that were given the best of the land, infrastructure, and funding.  These felt like college campuses and at times, felt like Hogwarth’s.  It was here that we stood outside of the office awaiting the Principal, who did not have the most genuine welcome and were given the least in terms of spirit and things that money can buy- such as coffee and food.  

Painting at one of the schools that was predominantly an Afrikaner school during apartheid

Principal speaking at the once-Afrikaner school.  Imagine Elizabeth Banks from Hunger Games.

 

These little differences demonstrate a question discussed in an indaba of “How and why is Ubuntu lost?” It seems to me that when people share a common struggle, they give the most, which is the foundation of Ubuntu.  It is disheartening to think that once a person has what they need or want, that sense of Ubuntu deteriorates and they no longer feel a need or desire to give back to those in need.  Why is that sense of humanity lost? Shouldn’t it be the other way? Is this a natural human condition or has this been developed over time?  To further emphasize this idea, studies show that people who give to those in need in subways are those who are “struggling” themselves- whether financially or emotionally.  This seems to be a norm, but that is the most disheartening part.  Imagine a world where that sense of Ubuntu and giving back was not lost.  Perhaps this perspective would help bridge the gaps of unequal opportunities, of the rich and poor, of the have and have nots.  When and why is that sense of humanity lost and furthermore, how does one carry that sense of Ubuntu wherever they go to help fix this?  

Children playing outside one of the first townships we visited

These contrasts were seen in Kaffir Boy when Mark went to visit his grandma’s white family whom she worked with for the first time.  These two worlds are not a new thing, as portrayed in the book, but what seems to be changing is the perceptions of each group and how the two groups treat one another.  For example, in Kaffir Boy it was always mentioned that a white person could never be good hearted toward a black person or family.  This changed with the introduction of the grandma’s work family and Mark, but this was the exception.  I do believe this is the way to change the world---be that change.  The very act of the white family treating Mark and his family well, even though they were Black changed the perception of Mark and his family, the white family, and possibly neighbors and other friends and family. 

While I am glad I was able to grasp a more true, in depth, understanding of the diverse, complex, country of South Africa, I cannot help but find parallels with that of the United States.  These two worlds exist every day in every part of the United States.  There is just less world attention on it because our period of legal segregation passed during the 1960’s.  While the same disparities exist today, it is not because of an official system explicitly created to oppress (like apartheid), it is a result of the design of the system (whether it be attributed to the cycle of poverty or the inequities of education to name a few). 

While I came to South Africa with the narrow minded, stereotypical, image of a country in poverty (some images which did match up, but of course not a blanket image for everyone in South Africa), it is interesting to see the people of South Africa do the same to the United States.  Whenever I ask South Africans how they view America, it is one described as a land of “no struggle”, everything is “bigger and better”, “everyone has everything they need”, “safe and rich”, which is exactly what I did to the people of South Africa.  While there is some truth to these statements, in terms of economics, since the Rand (South African currency) is 1/10 the power of the dollar, it is natural to see that America is a land of power and wealth.  While Americans come to South Africa and experience a great increase in power of the dollar, the opposite exchange makes it nearly impossible for someone from South Africa to come and live a comfortable life in America.  Imagine someone in South Africa leaving with what’s 1 million Rand here and it automatically converts to $100,000 instead of 1 million.  Or in simpler terms, their equivalent to $100 dollars (1000 Rand), becomes $10.  Also, in terms of safety, there is much more to worry about in South Africa.  This can be seen in the fences, borders, and walls that every single house or development has in the country.  Also, when my friends and I got to our hostel in Durban, we were about to go to the beach around 4:00 and they looked at us like we were crazy because the beaches are unsafe at night.  There is a bridge to the beach and people are known to be robbed and/or raped.  This again, shows the contrast of two worlds living in one.  I wonder the psychological implications of these two worlds living in one—in which one has to hide within the safe walls of their home once the sun goes down to ensure safety.  Even more so, I have heard from so many people who find out I am from America or see my “Bank of America” debit card, “Can you take me back with you?”, including young children at the elementary school we visited.  

Talking to some boys at one of the high schools

 

Kids playing outside the elementary school.

The bigger picture I saw in this is the danger of stereotyping a group of people, as I did to South Africa.  Yes, it’s natural to categorize and group things—it’s just science and psychology of the brain; people do this in order to better understand and comprehend the world around them, but how could one think that an entire country of people has NO struggle? In order to evolve I think it’s important to consciously be aware of this, because in doing so, myself and the people I encounter who see blanket images of Americans, we lose that sense of seeing the humanity in one another. Never again.

Visiting Nelson Mandela's hospital

The other day, I was able to visit the hospital Nelson Mandela is at, which is a few minutes from my hotel and was a great experience.  The importance of this man to the country could be seen in the many pictures, letters, flowers, and people who were there.   

Some were there to pay their respects as they accepted his eventual passing, some were there as reporters waiting for the passing to happen, some were there to pray for his healing and others were there because they had no where else to go. 

While myself and my colleagues were there, we were interviewed by a local newspaper as to why we were there and what our experiences were like as American students. 

As I was reading the many notes left, one stuck out:

As I continued walking around, I noticed a boy who looked very similar to the boy in the picture so I began talking to him and he explained to me his story:

He was the boy in the picture and had been in a school and had finished up until 11th grade (“Grade 11” here) until his parents both passed away.  He had dropped out of school because he had no money, had no support, and had been staying outside of Mandela’s hospital since Madiba was hospitalized.  This boy had lost everything and Madiba, the man he looked up to, was all he had left and gravitated toward him.  He began working for a photographer 2 days ago who agreed to help him out.  I spoke to him about why he dropped out and his main reasons were finances and the loss of his family.  He felt as if he had failed Madiba, who he knew wanted him to get educated, but he felt hopeless.  

 In listening to his story, I saw many of the students I had taught and the hopelessness they felt as a result of the difficult circumstances of their upbringing.  He maintained a desire to finish school, but had nowhere to turn.  I decided to give him 200 Rand if he agreed to promise me that he would keep this money and build on it to start saving in order to finish school.  He enthusiastically said yes and looked me in the eyes smiling saying, “I am happy. I am so happy.” after I made him say out loud that he would use the money only for school and he would do everything in his power to finish school. We talked about challenges he might face and how he would overcome them.  He ultimately promised to finish school for himself, for me, and most importantly for Madiba and South Africa. I thought this was the most fitting way to honor Madiba and help to carry on his legacy.

This experience made me realize the simple power of having parents, family, and friends who were there for me and supported me through things that I used to see as simple and easy, such as high school.  It also made me realize the power of having another person believe in you and have faith in you, as well as the power of a simple kind act.  Something as simple as listening to this boy's story, encouraging him, and giving him some help to possibly help him get back on his feet are little things that we take for granted every day, but could possibly be a defining change for someone else such as this boy.  These connections are sometimes what drive us to be a better person, because again, “I am what I am because of who we are.” 

INDABA: Lessons from Apartheid: Truth, Reconciliation, Forgiveness and Hope

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Tuesday, July 9th

I have just finished an “indaba” with my class.  “Indaba” is a Zulu word for a “gathering.” Zulu people used this word to describe the gatherings of important matters.  They are very laid back, with a sense of togetherness and comfort in order to create an atmosphere of collectiveness and openness to feel free to express opinions, ideas, and questions in a safe environment.  To give you a sense of how these indabas feel, when I walked in to today’s indaba Professor Moja was sitting on the floor of the hotel conference room with her feet out and we all sat together in a circle on the floor. I wore my sweatpants and t-shirt, brought wine, and my professor asked my friend Marc for wine and said “I will get drunk with you too.” 

At today’s indaba, we shared out our stories of our home stays in Soweto, which helped us all to gain an even broader perspective.  Some shared stories of staying with a wealthy family who owns a national football club, some stayed with the priest, some stayed with families with children, some stayed with families with no children. 

During this indaba, we discussed a book we read, “Country of my Skull” by Antjie Krog about the findings of the Truth and Reconciliation hearings and discusses the effects of post-apartheid South Africa, as well as other issues we felt important to discuss and other issues that organically came up.  This blog will be my attempt to write out some of those topics and my findings/thoughts. 

First topic: APARTHEID.  (Big topic for one blog, but here we go…)

First thing many of us noticed is the people we have encountered have different views of apartheid.  As I shared earlier, Khaliswe wanted it to return, although she never lived through the horrors of actual apartheid.  Some stories that some shared was many South Africans have a sense of nostalgia for it and can see many positives.  For example, Jess shared that her host family had a “shabeen” during her homestay.  This is a gathering of people to drink alcohol in which the host person charges people to get in.  This dates back to apartheid when people gathered in people’s homes to escape the harsh realities of everyday life.  Interestingly enough, this family continued to host these gatherings every Friday with their friends and strangers.  They are able to collect money while hanging out and drinking with those they want to see and even tell some to leave who they do not want there.  Genius.  This is an example of a South African saying these times were better during apartheid.  They seem to miss that sense of unity and togetherness that came about from the struggles of apartheid life as a Black South African.  Interestingly enough, many argue the quality of education was better during apartheid as well because of the sense of togetherness and the motivation that came about from the struggles of oppression.  Again, Ubuntu, and the idea that “I am what I am because of who we all are.” 

While these perspectives shed light on the few positive things that arose from apartheid, there were obvious horrors and negative aspects as well.  Many South Africans received assistance from the government post apartheid and many consider these people to be extremely lazy and hurting the national economy.  This is the argument against welfare in America.  Is government assistance perpetuating the cycle of poverty and is this assistance enabling a helpless population?  “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.”  Perhaps welfare funding could be better allocated to educational funding and support to create productive citizens who can sustain themselves and their families.  Not pretending to have the solution for poverty, just food for thought. 

NELSON MANDELA’S LEGACY OF TRUTH, RECONCILIATION AND FORGIVENESS

During the Truth and Reconciliation hearings, forgiveness was a major theme.  While the oppressed people of South Africa faced unimaginable atrocities, they found ways to forgive their oppressors as a means to look forward to the future.  The strength in these people is extremely admirable. 

A local article I read here titled, “No Future In Hate: What Mandela Taught Us All”  described that Mandela’s lasting legacy to South Africa and the world is his preaching of forgiveness. Mandela is a hero in South Africa and his presence is undeniably seen in every person and every aspect of South African life.  While this may be true because of the sensitive time I am spending in South Africa as the country awaits for his passing and psychologically prepares for their hero to pass on, he has truly left a lasting legacy that I hope other countries can learn from.  After all, he is a heroic symbol of a better nature- the personification of humanity, forgiveness and non-racialism. 

To further personify his character, at Robben Island, where Mandela was held for over 2 decades, the tour guide told us that after Mandela was beginning to take a role as leader of the prisoners and a diplomat of sorts, he was offered a bed for his cell.  He asked if everyone would get a bed.  When told “no”, he declined the bed and said “If I get a bed, everyone must get a bed. If not, I do not want a bed.”  Ubuntu. 

Furthermore, after being oppressed and held in prison for 24 years, he insisted on replacing anger and resentment with forgiveness and tolerance.  I have spoken to South Africans who do not know the whereabouts of family members because of apartheid, but they’ve found inner peace to these unanswered questions.  This period of post-apartheid was perceived as a national cleansing.  Mandela famously responded to a question in 1993 regarding South Africa’s post-apartheid future with, “I see a country for everyone, a rainbow nation, a country at peace with itself and with the world.  I see no future in hate.”  Once again, Ubuntu. 

Me outside Nelson Manela's prison cell on Robben Island

A quote from the article I read, since I can’t imagine attempting to word it any better:

 “This remarkable human being was able to see the humanity in the faces of the prison warders who tortured him, of the police officers who ruthlessly killed his friends and comrades and, of the indignant westerners who turned their backs on non-white South Africans at a time when they needed them most.

Mandela chose forgiveness as a tool to liberate himself from the shackles of resentment and in so doing, inspired his fellow South Africans to do the same. He helped the African National Congress, the ruling party, to transition from a liberation struggle party to one that governs and accepts a government in which ex-revolutionaries sit alongside ex-enemies.

Simply put: Mandela helped birth a unique leadership and magnanimity which astonished and impressed the international community in equal measure.”

To many non-South Africans, this idea of forgiveness may come off as foreign and even difficult to understand and accept; forgiveness is extremely difficult as a human emotion.  Indeed, hate and anger are the easier choice.   I have seen this in the South African people.  There is no bitterness or anger.  There is only forgiveness and a happy go lucky feeling amongst people who I had only imagine would have decades of anger and hate pent up.  Even walking outside of my hotel, I am approached by several men a day asking for money, but the wording and tone reflects these values and ideals too.  In fact, when I was in line at McDonald’s to get coffee before class, I was approached by several men asking me to buy them food.  The New Yorker snapped back and I began to get frustrated as I just wanted to buy a cup of coffee.  I had a natural instinct to not help them for many reasons: Will they use it for drugs? Will they continue to ask me? Will more come if I help? Is this person deserving? Why don’t they have a job?” As I waited for my coffee, a white South African woman (or so it sounded) bought the same man food and even an ice cream cone! She asked what he wanted to eat and bought it for him as he patiently waited.  Wow, I felt like an asshole and again, I realized the effects of the society I was raised in and the difference of values: again, a lack of Ubuntu.  Of course there’s the reality that you can’t help every person who asks for it, but there is definitely a culture of giving homeless people here extra food and it is not seen as strange and is certainly not the exception. 

During the indaba, a question arose with “How did the atrocity of apartheid occur?” and how did it occur during a time when I was living such a different life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.  When I was born, apartheid was going strong, resistance movements were rising, and not until I was 7 years old did apartheid officially end.  Furthermore, “Could this happen again?”  A colleague of mine expressed the idea that America has a culture of punishment and we lack the power of forgiveness.  Of course, Americans are not the only ones who behave this way, but as Americans that is our vantage point. 

Then it clicked in my head.  I began to think about all the different groups in America.  I began to think about all the challenges and terrible forces of oppression these groups faced, including my own family.  For example, the racial segregation of the early and mid-1900’s, slavery, the Chinese Exclusion Act, Japanese internment camps, anti-immigration sentiment, inter alia (“amongst other things”---Thanks Mike---helps to have a friend in law school).  I then realized that because these groups have never experienced forgiveness, these feelings of anger and resentment that have been passed on through generations are the driving force between the divisions that exist in America.  There is an underlying national psyche that roots back to all these terrible acts amongst our own people that have never been settled.  There was never inner peace or forgiveness.  Even if forgiveness is idealistic as I myself find it difficult to forgive at times, as I’m sure many people do (and I’ve never had to experience true oppression and suffering) there is an absence of that discussion, which is the real atrocity.  In comparison, South Africa is at a turning point in their history and it gives me great hope for the people of South Africa knowing they confronted their issues, had a leader who instilled ideals of truth, reconciliation and forgiveness.  It is for this reason that South Africa is a model for forgiveness for unity and looking to the future.  In fact, a colleague of mine from Sri Lanka explained that the Truth and Reconcilation hearings were a model for the government of Sri Lanka who just ended a civil war as recent as 2009.  This is an example of collective healing versus individualistic healing that stems from the character of Nelson Mandela, a personal hero of mine for these reasons.

Image of Nelson Mandela's profile from the Apartheid Museum. Can you see it?

And bringing it back to my experiences in South Africa, that question of “How can these bad things like apartheid happen?” is one that I’m sure all of my friends on this trip have struggled with and questions that we did not just sit on, but found a way to find solutions to solving these injustices.  It gives me a sense of hope being around these people who I know have struggled with this question for that struggle is what brought them to this program.  They are all here to focus on the struggles of humanity.  Some are here for masters and doctorates in Educational Policy, Educational Leadership, Sociology, International Relations etc, but they all have a focus on helping to solve these global injustices and that is what I will remember when I begin to lose faith and hope in the human race.  It is the enduring resilience of the South African people that I will remind myself of when I lose hope myself.  And while my Professor has explained that these experiences will take a long time to process and when I return to the states, no one will truly be able to understand these experiences and I may feel a disconnect from people from home for this, I know I have a family here to fall back on for a long time.   For that I am grateful that I know others who carry the lessons that I have learned and who I know will bring these lessons back to the people they encounter in the coming future.  

My NYU family at The University of Western Cape

My Home Stay Experience in Soweto

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Monday, July 8th 2013

I have just settled back into my hotel room, am secluded on a couch in a corner of the hotel with a glass of wine and am going to attempt to process the past 24 hours and document these experiences on paper.  During this trip, most of the time is spent with 19 other beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, kind, warm hearted people who have quickly turned into family.  Time with them is invaluable as a learning experience, but I am excited to finally be alone with my thoughts and begin to reflect on what these experiences mean to me. 

Sunday, July 7th began with a trip to the hospital Nelson Mandela is currently at and a tour of the Apartheid Museum (which I will blog about later).   

Afterward, we arrived in Soweto, an urban area in the city of Johannesburg.  Our group arrived at the Anglican Church around 12:00 where we were to meet our host families that we would be staying with for the next 24 hours.  I was full of anxiety and excitement, but mostly excitement because I knew this part of the trip would help me to truly understand the lives of the South African people.  It is one thing to tour a town, city, or country, and maintain an outside perspective, but being able to immerse one’s self in the lives of the African people is what it truly is to experience the land and what I have been looking forward to most.  We entered the church as their service was coming to an end.  They were praying and we slowly entered and sat down.  

 They began to sing and our welcome began.  The priest announced to the congregation that the students from New York University have arrived and they offered a warm welcome to us and Professor Moja.  In many churches and places of gathering, this itself would be considered a “warm welcome.”  However, my idea of a warm welcome was about to be shattered.  They asked us to walk up to the front of the church as they sang an uplifting song.  We stood in front as they sang a song and began to dance.  They grabbed our hands and began to invite us to join in the dancing.   

The amount of genuine warmth was indescribable.  We continued to greet the people around us, then took our seats after Professor Moja spoke and expressed our gratitude for the incredibly warm welcome.  After the service, we mingled shortly when myself and a few friends held a baby girl who went to Amber, Gabby, then myself with no hesitation, no fear, and no crying.  She was so innocent and easy going for a baby.  After speaking with her father, I learned that her African name was “Waanalo”, which means “easy.”   How fitting I thought.  I then learned from him that in African culture, a baby receives 3 names: one from the parents, one from the mother’s parents, and one from the father’s parents.  The name that begins to fit with the personality of the baby is the one that sticks.  This is an example of the African peoples’ natural ability of reading one another and being in touch with humanity and what it means to be a human.  

Me and Waanalo

During this blog, I will mention the word “Ubuntu” and relate my experiences back to this African word.  It means “humanism” and “a concern for the well being of others.”  This word has deep, deep, meaning that stems from the incredible struggles and strengths of the African people. 

I then found myself in a room with my family from NYU and women from the church who were about to become our Mami’s for the night.  While waiting for the priest to announce our match ups, I was sitting with Jo, a friend of mine, and we were talking with a woman next to us who exuded such a bright light of personality.  Her name is “Nkele Bhengu”, which means “tears of joy”  She was happy, go lucky, and I asked her, “Are you the youngest in your family?” She replied yes, we laughed, talked, and our match ups were to be announced. (During this time, she was holding my hand and Jo’s hand on and off, a little detail that helps show this woman’s kind spirit) 

Painting on the back of the church chairs while waiting

The match ups were announced and I, unfortunately, did not get placed with Nkele.  Instead, myself and Marc, got placed with a woman who came off not as warm and welcoming.  We believed she was a nun and me and Marc joked that we were about to enter a conversion camp.  When I told Nkele who I was placed with, she gave me a look that said “Oh no!” and immediately began to find a way to get me to stay with her.  I was disappointed, but did not want to leave Marc and was going to let this happen and go into it with an open mind and trust that I was placed with my mother for a reason.  We then went outside and met our three “sisters.”  Khensani is 11,Khaliswa is 17 and Patricia is 19.   At first, things seemed a bit awkward as they wanted 2 other girls to go with them and we had been afraid to go with the woman we were matched with.  I even remember Khaliswa saying, “Well, this is awkward”, which perfectly fits her strong, blunt, comical personality.  However, things were about to change.   We walked around Vilakazi Street, which is the street where Nelson Mandela grew up and one of the most famous streets as it is the only street in the world where 2 Nobel Peace Prize laureates were born and raised.  “Granny” had gone home to cook dinner.

We then began to wander around Soweto with no agenda or no plans.  The conversations were abundant and very telling as we were beginning to learn about South Africa from the minds of teenage girls, who were direct results of the end of apartheid, which occurred in 1994.  Patricia was more soft spoken, yet confident. Khensani was quiet and was the young girl following us around and interjecting once in awhile and Khaliswa was the strong willed, feminist, confident, blunt, hilarious teenage girl in which I got further into conversation with most.  I learned from her that her father was not around and her mother was a strong woman who took care of her family.  I learned that she thought the youth of the world, specifically South Africa, were “dumb”, were too worried about being “cool”, valued the wrong things shows from American shows like Real Housewives of New Jersey and Sweet Sixteen.  I learned that she was okay with being smart and not giving into the typical teenage pressures, even though she still has plenty of friends.  I praised her strength and we continued to discuss important topics, even politics of South Africa as well as America.  She was curious to hear America’s politics as she told me the African National Congress party was beginning to lose support by the South African people for not following through on promises, but people were hesitant to vote for the DA because of the white woman in charge.  She also expressed her love for Eminem, Jay-Z, Drake and Rihanna, but criticized Adele for expressing her emotions from a break up so much.  I had to interject here and asked her if maybe it was admirable and showed more strength to show vulnerability and she saw my opinion and agreed (Phew!).

(Me, Patricia, Marc)

                                                       

 I learned much more about this extremely intelligent woman, but one thing that stuck out was when I asked her about her views on apartheid.  To my surprise, she had said she saw it as a positive thing and wanted it to return.  While she was very smart and was educated at a private school, I of course took this for what it was as she is seventeen, but I had to know more.  She said this was because she believed that during apartheid, the youth of South Africa had something to work for and fight for.  She continued to express her frustrations with the youth as being lazy, not valuing education, and saying they are becoming lazy and spoiled.  She said she would not want the horrible treatment of non-whites like in apartheid, but she said at least during that time the struggles of the Blacks led to motivation to be better. 

During these two hours, not only did I learn about this incredible woman and the people of South Africa, I learned the importance of storytelling as a means of sharing a people’s history and the importance these details and stories.  These experiences are what make, build, and maintain a people and you can see the people of South African recognize and appreciate this through generations of beautiful story tellers.  If it for this reason that I feel obliged to share my experiences.  These subtle differences we can make with one another through the sharing of experieces, the sharing of struggles and knowledge, is the way to truly change the world.  In fact, Nelson Mandela’s words say it best that “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”  

  

About 2 hours later of walking around the neighborhood, we stopped at a local store to buy “fatcakes”, which are very similar to Italian zeppoles, without the sugar; delicious.  We brought them to our new home where we were greeted by Granny who was ready to feed us dinner.   

  (Patricia, Khensani, Khaliswa---left to right)

                                           

We presented one of our gifts of a new blanket to the house for having us over, were brought into our room (a room in the back ‘guest house’) then sat down in the living room for dinner.  I was anxious for this part as I was unaware what traditional African food would be served, but was prepared to eat what was served and be grateful for the food prepared for me.

We sat around the table in the living room as Patricia helped bring out the food Granny was cooking. During this entire time, Granny did not say much, did not eat with us, but was rather insistent on just feeding us.  She even said “Granny will take care of everything” and other words spoken were “Are you alright?” or “Are you well?” Again, very interesting to see the results of South Africn’s history in the people I encounter. 

Granny and her son to the left

As the food was being brought out, the girls all waited for everything to be placed on the table, helped serve, and eventually we all held hands and said a prayer together, once Granny came to the room and said “let us pray.”  We were served warm bread, something that looked like ham, the fatcakes from before and….. tripe.  The tripe was goat tripe (stomach), which was off putting for me as I saw goat wondering the area before arriving.  The smell was foreign for me as well, but I tried my best to keep polite.  Khaliswa of course called me out on taking just one piece as I had said I was hungry before.  However, I mixed the tripe with the bread, got it down eventually and moved on.  What was most interesting to me was having this traditional African meal in a South African family’s house and on the television was MTV playing American music videos that we discussed with the girls.  Quite the juxtaposition.  Also interesting was Patricia and Khensani saying this was their favorite meal and was eating every last bite.  During this, Khaliswa was trying her best to make other plans with us, such as meeting up with her friends to smoke “hash” and going to see a movie at the mall.  She said she only stays overnight at Granny’s 1-2 times a year, but did so for us, even though she believed Granny’s house to be “boring.”  I don’t blame her, since I would think the same thing if I were a teenager.

After the meal, Granny’s son arrived.  He is a lawyer for the government who drove up in a white BMW which the girls squeezed into, as well as Marc and myself.  We drove around town as Granny’s son stopped people in the town to say hi to and introduce us.  I began to realize we were being shown off as his “American visitors.” I later learned that his name means “hope” as I imagine he is where the money comes from and Granny’s other daughter is “kind” who is more personable, but Granny told me later that night, “But that’s just how he is.”   

We eventually made our way to Granny’s son’s girlfriend, where we met her sister, whose name is “Mmbali” and she was the explosion of energy me and Marc needed as we were getting tired from a long day.  She was in her Sunday pajamas and when she walked by the house and saw we were from New York City, screamed with excitement, took pictures with us (which she said she was going to show off to her friends at work), then took mine and Marc’s hands and had us go to her friends’ shack-type house across the street where she jokingly said we were going to be her “best friends from New York City.”  She was beyond excited as she showed us to her friends and jokingly looked at her friends and asked, “So how is it to live in the ghetto of Sowetto?” in an American accent.  She wanted us to go out with her in Jo-Burg and said she often goes out Thursday night, Friday night, Sunday night and Monday at work is Monday Monday, or “Monday blues” and even sometimes Tuesday Tuesday or “Tuesday Blues.”  She could not be more different from her sister who seemed more “put together” for lack of a better term, and was a paramedic.  However, Mmbali made my day and it was hilarious to be treated like a celebrity.  It was also interesting as she introduced herself as “Precious,” a name I heard many times.  I asked her what her African name was and asked her why “Precious” was so common.  She said during apartheid, many Blacks went by “white names,” but I insisted on calling her Mmbali.  She also explained to us that the first time she saw whites come into Soweto, at least her neighborhood, was during the World Cup.  She said many people actually stayed in houses in Soweto during then and that was the first time she saw white people in the neighborhood.  She explained that some of her closest friends are white, but none of them have ever been to her house---EVER.  And she was 100% okay with that.  Interesting to see this as she is a product of apartheid South Africa mixed with transitioned post apartheid South Africa.  This was her reality and she saw nothing wrong with her white friends not wanting to ever go to her house in Soweto.  As much as I wanted to talk with Mmbali longer, Granny’s son wanted us to see more of the area, including Khaliswa’s university (college).  

Mmbali

Mmbali as we were leaving

As it was Sunday, the university was closed, but the guards let us drive through quickly since we were American visitors visiting to study the education of South Africa.  The family all got out and were proud to show the school. 

Next stop was the hospital.  This was a government run hospital that people could go to who did not have money or insurance coverage.  Granny’s son’s girlfriend was familiar with the place as she is a paramedic, but said she was afraid of hospitals, as were the girls.  This was interesting to me as I know death is an interesting topic in South Africa as death is a common reality, so much so that people save up money for their funeral arrangements as to not burden the family.  Bank advertisements even advertise support for funeral arrangements, which I saw today at the ATM.  I heard through the grapevine that our Professor has said it is highly unlikely for her to ever return to South Africa and not have a funeral to attend.  This is a sad reality, but also made me think of my students in the inner city where death is also common as related to gangs, and violence. 

Quick group shot after the hospital tour

We eventually ended up at a mall where we got coffee, ice cream, and the girls went to see a movie.  It was a local South African movie in which a white guy befriends a black guy and causes tension in the families.  Myself, Marc, and Granny’s son and his girlfriend (who I do not know his name as he was fairly quiet), decided to go meet our friends and their host mother at a local “well” for drinks and dancing. Nkele, the happy Mami that I met at the church earlier gave her number to Patricia for us to call so we could meet up.  She even said she would come drive to pick me up from the house so she could see me later.  Jo and Gabby told me she was asking all day, “Where is Daniel? Is Daniel okay?” so I was happy to finally meet up with them.  The night continued with drinks, food, and great dancing.  Dancing is a staple to African culture and I admire their rhythm, soul, and groove.  It unites and a further driving force of “Ubuntu”.  During the night, it was fantastic to see any one person at a table feel the desire to get up and dance at any time.  If other people felt this, they rose to dance as well as others around the room shouted, praised, or pointed to give it a little “Yes, I feel ya.  Dance it up”  It was great when one person felt the music, danced, which led to all of us dancing and singing.  Nkele brought her neighbor, son and his friend, and 2 woman next to us also joined in dancing and the fun.  A moment that sticks out is when I talked to Nkele’s neighbor about the values of our countries and asked her what she thought of America.  She said she saw America as a place where there is no struggle and people live great lives.  She sees this from television, but I explained to her as best as possible that the people of America have great struggles as well and we connected on a human level about that.  I told her I admired the African people’s ability to appreciate the values of humanity that matter and explained that Americans have lost sight of some of these values.  She said to me, “Ubuntu: when my neighbor is well, I am well.  When my neighbor is not well, I am not well.” 

It was a night I will never forget, for sure.  By about 10:00 pm, we all returned back to our host families’ houses.  The girls were watching TV with Granny.  I sat next to Granny to get to hear her stories and get to know her and we discussed life and we discussed that struggles are what bring about strength in people and it is a necessary part of life and without it, a sense f humanity, or Ubuntu is lost.   She believed her children have not had to struggle and they do not realize that yet. 

Eventually, Marc and I were in our room in the back guest house with the 3 girls in our pajamas/comfy clothes all squeezed in on the full bed.  I had just given the girls a deck of cards with pictures of New York on them so Marc and I explained to the girls all of the places in New York, such as Times Square, Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, etc.  The girls listened with wide open eyes and were excited to talk about visiting New York City sometime in the future.  We then played cards as they taught us games.  Eventually I got out and began to doze off on the bed as the girls continued to play with Marc.  They kept yelling “Daniel! Wake up” so I fought to keep my eyes open as I knew sleeping would be a terrible use of time during this unique, once in a lifetime experience, and they knew this too.  At one point, I woke up to two girls doing what I used to do with my mother and my mother explained she used to do with her siblings.  While they lay on their backs, they had their feet touching and replicating the motion of riding a bicycle, what my mother said in Chinese was “Chi On Chaya” (phonetic spelling?)  This was great for me to see as I saw these girls appreciate their company with one another the way my mother did with her siblings and with us. There was no Xbox, Playstation, computers, etc....just the company of one another. 

As we nonchalantly hung out, Marc and I were writing in our journals as the girls would gather up and snuggle asking us what we were writing.  I asked them random questions to answer such as “What animal would you be?” “What is your African name and why?” “Where do you see yourself in 5 years” etc and eventually asked each of them if they would write in my journal a short note for me to remember them by.  I am going to share Khaliswa’s as I believe it is beautifully written and deserves to be shared.  Patricia asked me to not share hers with anyone. 

My letter from Khaliswa

 I am and forever will be amazed at the humble strength and Ubuntu these girls showed us and I've truly developed feelings of familial love for them in such a short time. We have promised to keep in touch. 

Me and my family in Africa before leaving to walk to the church to meet back up with the group

Marc and I, sleeping in one bed together in the guest house, fell asleep amazed at the experience we had and both went to bed thinking “Wow” and we could feel the absence of their presence already.  However, I slept like a rock until I was awoken at 7:30 AM by Khaliswa knocking at the door (which is locked with a key from the inside) saying she prepared a bath for me and that I should go first since Marc was still sleeping.  I did so, although I did not bathe, but brushed my teeth (Yes, there was running water). 

We had our last meal that Granny cooked made of brown porridge.  Patricia wrote in my journal for me “For breakfast on Monday morning we had Mabele (brown porridge).”  Khensani said at breakfast, “Can I get a cup of cawwwffeee?” and I burst into laughter as I remember from the night before her asking “Can I learn how to speak in a New Jersey accent”? They all knew of the Jersey Shore, Snooki, The Situation, Pauly D etc.  Ah, the knowledge I am spreading to South Africa.  We quickly finished up the meal and began our 20-25 minute walk to the church.  When we got there, I embraced friends and my Mami.  She then gave me my African name, "Thabo", which means “happy.”    

Collage of some pictures with my Mami in Soweto and at the well

We hugged several times before leaving and took pictures.  When I said goodbye to my sisters, Patricia said to me in her cute, soft, voice, “Okay, I am going to close my eyes when you walk away” and Khaliswa said “I can’t believe you’re leaving already” but continued to smile and move on.  I told them I will never forget them and can’t wait to hear about who they become, what they accomplish and joked that I would save their letters for me until they've won the next Nobel Peace Prize...