I don’t think I have ever explained what Sinethemba means (Sinethemba is the organization I work with in Khayelitsha). It is Xhosa and in English means “We have hope”. Ukuthemba is hope in Xhosa. To conjugate a Xhosa word you attach either NDI(I), U(you, he, she), SI(we), NI(you all), or BA(they) to the front of the word. For example ukuhlala is to stay, so…I stay in Rosebank is Ndihlala eRoesbank. The NDI is attached to the root or the verb. So the “Si” in Sinethemba is conjugating the verb to means “we”. To say “have” NA is added the root as well. There is vowel coalescence that causes the “na + i” to turn into an “e” so nethemba. We = Si, have = ne, hope = themba. We have hope…Sinethemba!

I have been walking on clouds. While this usually refers to the dreamy universe that young lovers live in I am speaking literally today. I stepped out of the Jammie this morning and onto a cloud. As I walked among the white cotton searching for my classmates, I looked down what is the main walk through campus but instead of seeing the familiar Jameson steps and ivy covered walls in their place was white mist. Table Mountain often has a table cloth flowing over it and on special occasions the ends of this cloth dust the tops of the Varsity buildings but today the cloth had slid over campus. I have heard from the other students and Capetonians to expect this experience often. That from this moment on, Table Mountain will just be a myth instead of a statement in our vision. This is winter in Cape Town. The familiar vision of Table Mountain no longer punctuates our backdrop but instead has been replaced by gray skies and that cloud.

I feel like I am posting a weather report but since all of Arizona will soon be in Cape Town I feel I am doing my civic duty by informing you. So for all you Cape Town visitors bring your cloud boots and jackets for you are in for stormy weather.

I was welcomed into the home of a lifetime Khayelitsha resident. It was here that I was to stay for my “home stay weekend”. Our program directors have told us from the beginning that this weekend would be an challenging, our favorite part of the program, a once in a lifetime experience to see how such a group of people seeped in culture and practice live their daily lives. I think it is safe to say that I have had a taste of Xhosa culture since beginning my time here. I am taking Xhosa, the language, at UCT. Every Wednesday I have sat in culture class and heard about the responsibilities of children, the initiation ceremony, weddings, and newly weds. Each day my teacher, Titshala Abner, spoke he presented such a strong and proud culture for us to discuss.

I experienced some of that this weekend, some of that African culture; the importance of ancestors, the paternalistic nature of the people, the importance of community and friends. My host mom, Unice, said to me during the weekend, “if we meet a person they become friends, family. If you sit everyday on the bus with specific people then you better believe you will be at their funeral or wedding, because they are friends, family. She used the English word for friends interchangeably with family. The community spirit I experienced was one of continual openness and humbleness to those around. I was conflicted, however, on how far they take that idea these days. The idea I speak of is ubuntu. We learned of it in our Xhosa class as well as I had heard about from the Mike and Michelle Tessendorf before I came to South Africa for the first time. Ubuntu is the essence of being human, that a person is only a person because of the people around him. In Xhosa the word for person is umntu and for people it is abantu, ubuntu is made from that word.

The reason for my conflicted feelings was the complete willingness to open up in some cases and in others to let Western ideas influence the normal community actions. I was taken to a wedding with my host mom. Xhosa weddings take place on two days. The first day is hosted by the bride, in this instance it was what they call the “western style wedding” or a “white wedding”. The ceremony was in a Catholic church and the reception at the bride’s house. The wedding was beautiful. What amazed me was I was treated like an important guest. Two of the other girls in my program were there with me and we were embarrassed and humbled by the hospitality they offered to us. The three of us with our mamas’ in the front row, were served food first and were welcomed every time someone stood up to speak. By the end of the weekend, every time the groom saw the three of us, he welcomed us, told us to feel at home, and offered us the best seats in the house. Why this was such a shock to use was the fact that we didn’t know these people. They were completely happy to share their special day with complete strangers while the family of the bride (this was during the reception we went to) had to eat in the house and help cook. Just so you know the second day of festivities was hosted by the groom, our neighbor, and was the traditional side of the wedding. The bride traditionally lives with the family of the groom and therefore on the second day of the ceremony the bride is brought to new family she belongs to…this is just figuratively speaking now.

While the couple’s hospitality was shocking but great, I saw throughout the weekend how much Western culture influences this traditionalistic culture. Many of the girls we met were pregnant, Unice’s two daughters lived in her home, unmarried but with two children each. Also Unice spoke of how she no longer trusts all of her neighbors. Besides some interesting comments from my mama about how I don’t eat enough and don’t like mushrooms, the weekend was great and eye-opening.

Ps. I got to play both days with Unice’s 3 year, 7 year, and 7 month old grandchildren and 6 two-week old puppies! It was so much fun.

A prayer for the Ephesians:

“For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts thorough faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasps how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, or ever and ever! Amen.”

Ephesians 3: 14-21

This weekend I left the familiarity of my home drove to Namibia. It was a last minute decision but because of Workers’ day, I had both Thurs and Friday off school (so I wasn’t bunking mom and dad). I jumped into one of the last spots available in our two cars and threw warm clothes into my backpack.

We left Tuesday night around 6 and began the drive to Namibia. This entire trip was loosely planned. By that I mean that we knew where we wanted to end up…Namibia, and knew when we had to be home…Sunday. W drove through the entire night and at about 4 in the morning on a dirt road into the Ai-Ais National Park we got a flat in one of the cars. In the pitch black freezing cold of the Namibian desert, we girls, mainly Kate, changed the flat. Unbeknownst to us, however, we were supposed to put the spare bolts in instead of the flat’s bolts. We drove the new tired car two minutes when there was an apparent problem. The bolts were stripped. We pulled out our sleeping bags and slept on the side of the road until about 9. A couple stopped while I slept and fixed the tire, telling us to go to the nearest town to get it fixed.

The next town was closed down so we drove to the campsite and called the car rental company to send someone to fix the tire. After 6 hours of waiting and multiple trips to the Fish River Canyon and our new campsite, the car was fixed. We camped out by the canyon with the largest bug/beetles and grasshoppers I have ever seen. During daylight hours we were constantly attacked by flies and during the night time we were jumped on my grasshoppers. Needless to say I made it through the night albeit sleeplessly.

So the next day we drove 9 hours to Windhoek; decided after eating dinner to drive into Swakopmund, a popular beach town. At 2 in the morning it is really hard to find a hostel for 9 people, who knew! Eventually we found a bungalow where the four beds were taken up by 7 people and two slept on the couches. Each bed was a twin. The next day we hung out in town and visited the dunes that surround Swakopmund. They are beautiful and huge. The sand is smooth and at the apex of each is a very definite line that creates a ridge. We sat on the sand above the ocean and just appreciated the scenery and thanked God for such a beautiful place.

The next day I went sandboarding. It is like snowboarding but harder, at least for me. I enjoyed it but the hike up the dune every time was killer. I also sandboarded on my stomach, which is a flat, flexible board that you lay on and then go straight down the dune. My fastest time was 73 km/hr!

We drove home that night; well we started the drive home that night which ended at 6 pm the next day. The drive took us through open desert encased in diamond stars and a sunrise over rocky structures and whisper trees. Namibia was beautiful but we took it too fast. I guess I have to go again.

Here is a taste of the women I work with and some of the problems the encounter as unemployed females in Khayelitsha.

HIV/AIDS and illness:

“I couldn’t market myself out but there where a lot of problems with the family. I had to move down to the E. Cape and Cape Town I think 3 times already in the last year. Two months in between, but that was just family problems, the funerals, sickness, and stuff. I was not the one who but I had to go and help.” –Jillian Smile

Education level:

“If your mother is here you just give the baby to them and they will take care of it and you can go back to school.” –Solani Ntombizawo

“The other thing with myself, maybe I was capable up to that level but I realized I have been out of job for quite some time since 2001 until now; it is quite a long time. Sometimes you get your degree, your diploma from high school but you don’t have money to go further up especially with high school…” –Jillian Smile

“And then after Matric, 1998 I went to do my first year at the technical school. Because my results weren’t so good, so I didn’t have like a C, like good symbols for my chemical engineering so these guys now advised me to do like a chemical analysis.” –Lydia Masinek

“…you can’t do anything without school. Some places have higher requirements, it depends on the kind of shop.” –Solani Ntombizawo

Experience level and employment qualifications:

“I started doing domestic work because it is the easiest job to get if you are not educated…” –Lydia Masinek

Youth unemployment:

“Another thing with the kids when they get to like Standard 9 you realize that they want to taste everything that is happening around the world. You realize then that during that time they take advantage like their school has extended hours when they should work or have extra classes they want to go friends they want to go to parties.” –Jillian Smile

Family and cultural responsibilities:

“No I didn’t finish all the courses. That year when I was studying I fell pregnant. So but I finished that year, then I couldn’t go back. Because I had to work for the child. So I only did that year and never went back.” –Lydia Masinek

“So my mother was suffering because my father was passed away. So my mother told us one of you, it was so difficult for my mother, so my mother told us one of us needed to leave.” –Nokuzola Willie

Equality among employment opportunities.

“I think there are a lot of people who don’t work here in Khy. More women don’t have a job. Men it is better they have got a job.” –Nokuzola Willie

I’m just remembering home. Listening to Mae’s the Everglow; all I can think about is sitting on a beach in California with Dustin or in the Marquee with Carly, Katie, and Eric. There have been times when people start remembering I’m gone and leaving me messages on my Facebook wall or sending me emails. When I get a taste of home; that life has continued on and when I return my friends will have new friends, they will have new memories to laugh about and new challenges they have overcome. When I hear that stuff I get home sick. I’m sure it is that time in the semester. I am here for 2 more months although the way we talk it seems like in a few weeks I’ll be on my way home. I have had an amazing experience, I will be writing about this at the end of my trip as well but for now, this semester has challenged me in my beliefs, my complacency, my organization skills, my ability to make new friends, my ability to hold old ones, my relationship, and my drive, my faith, and my compassion.

I can’t come home without a piece of Africa with me. The women I serve every day and the boys who play with my phone and call me “Howlie”; they will be in my heart. I was told by Michelle that once seeing this place, once understanding the poverty and the need, there is no way to go back home and life the life I was leading before SA. I know that after May’s trip to SA I went home challenged to bring support and funding the Helping Hands. But I didn’t. Instead I decided to come to South Africa on my own. The first taste wasn’t enough. So now my heart is on fire…I have begun to think what I can do to support Sinethemba. Lindsey and Ryan, a couple who are here long term and from ASU, were given 12lbs of chocolate chips as a wedding gift (they were married in Feb here in SA). What is amazing about this and the reason for them receiving so many chips, is that there are no chocolate chips for sale here. I have seen them in cake mixes, on cakes, in muffins, on ice cream but none on sale in the stores. So for the last few weeks when I see them I have gotten a little taste of home with chocolate chip cookies and pizzookie (I love those so much and yet I don’t know how to spell it J) But as it turns out most South Africans haven’t thought to add these chips of gold to cookies and when Lindey and Ryan brought 100 cookies to church to sell, the church went crazy over them. The money they got they gave to Sinethemba.

I was there when they gave Nolitha the check, after they left I spoke with her. She had tears in her eyes and began reassuring me that the women and children wouldn’t go hungry this month. It has been a hard month for Sinethemba. I began four weeks ago I think and since that time the food supplies have dwindled. Each consecutive day I would serve less and less nutritious food. On Wednesday it was lintels, onion, and potato, no soup just salt in the water, not very tasty. On Friday it was cabbage, onion, and water. I was embarrassed to serve them the cabbage water. Since when has anyone enjoyed such a meal but as Nicole reminds me daily while driving to and from Khayelitsha, a half a loaf of bread is better than no bread. That Xhosa saying embodies the way these people appreciate even the paltry soup I serve them. I see it most in the children. Some will take the left-overs of the others and even lick the plate clean.

So what do I do about this? Now we have the rest of April covered but what happens when May comes? That has been the question of the hour. Will you pray with me that Sinethemba finds stable support? Pray for the well being of the Ndalasi family, that Nolitha’s job will continue to support her children as she gives more and more to Sinethemba. And pray that both you and I will fulfill the challenge to give back to the Lord what is His.

I am blown away by the hospitality and the grace with which the Ndalasi family host people. Twice now guests have come over the visit Nolitha while I have been cooking. The first time I was called into the living room and one woman introduced herself. She went on to tell me about challenges she has in living in Harare, about her children and the child her daughter has just had, and the importance of maintaining friendships. She concluded her monologue with “and will you make me some coffee?” Yhooo! Hold up! I stood there wide-eyed; I had no idea how to make coffee in Nolitha’s kitchen. That usually takes being comfortable with the kitchen; knowing where the milk and sugar is, where the coffee, filter, and machine are. I didn’t know any of these things. I looked to Nolitha and she nodded toward the kitchen saying ask Buhle, her daughter.

Well I wasn’t gonna just stand there and I wasn’t going to go all around Harare looking for Buhle. Instead I went into the kitchen and started rummaging through cupboards. I realized after a full search of the kitchen for a coffee machine that they don’t use those but instead drink instant coffee, whheww! One problem solved. So now I looked all over the container for how to make it…I didn’t want to give the woman either too strong or too weak coffee. Just as I was pouring the hot water into the cup Buhle walked in. She looked at me with kind eyes but a look of “this is not that hard”. I saw her grab a tray by the fridge, pour just hot water into the cup and place the coffee tin on the tray as well. She said to me bring this out to her and she will make her own.

As I sat the tray in front of the woman she smiled and began the ever so personal task of making a cup of coffee. I am amazed that in a home of such poverty that the courtesy due guests is possibly higher than at home. When guests are over at Nolitha’s she will drop everything to entertain and will try to be as formal and accommodating.

A few days later there were more guests. A group of men. We served them lunch before going over to the soup kitchen. I brought out full bowls, a loaf of bread on a tray with a knife, tea and coffee on a tray. It was a beautiful spread. But for the chipped cups, the mix-matched spoons, the non-refrigerated milk, and instant coffee; the lunch could have been one set up for the President or at least the in-laws. I have enjoyed learning about the traditions and customs of the Xhosa culture; the hierarchy of their families and community. It is interesting how I fit in there, they are finally warming up to me but maybe that happens when you stay around long enough to see these small formalities that keep a life of poverty looking more like a life of privilege.

After four days of volunteering I was hoping I would have a handle on how things would work. But as I stepped into the bus leaving Sinethemba I still didn’t feel any more comfortable than I had my first time in Khayelitsha. Today was an adventure, somewhat like usual. Nolitha had asked me to pick up some dry soup mix because the kitchen had run out on Wednesday. I arrived at the kitchen and felt prepared. I knew where all the food was, I remembered the “recipe” (just watching Nolitha for two days) for making soup, the transport had picked us up on time so I had enough time, I was actually serving the community. However, it all went wrong when the soup never congealed. Now if I was having a bowl of soup on a cold night by a fire, then watery soup that I could drink from a mug would be great, but…we don’t give utensils to the kids or mamas who come to the soup kitchen. In reality we don’t serve soup but instead a chunky stew type of meal; a meal that can be soaked up with bread and picked up by hand. I was freaking out by this point, thinking I wouldn’t have a meal to serve. I thought it was funny and ironic that after starting with such confidence and really “knowing” what to do, I had messed up.

Because I cook the meal in Nolitha’s kitchen with the “garage” next door where I serve the kids and mamas, I am invading the normal happenings of her household. It is an interesting experience because they only speak Xhosa. Buhle, Nolitha’s daughter, has been around more often because they are on break from school, but she has not been taught all the ways of Xhosa cooking therefore she was just as overwhelmed as I when I stared into the brown liquid on the stove. One thing she did help me with was to ask one of the mamas doing beading in the garage to come and fix the soup. After adding some soya (I think that was what is in the soup mix they usually use instead of my instant soup mix) the soup thickened up, yay!

I take things for granted often. For example I assume that most people have been exposed to cameras enough to know how to turn one on. However, this obviously is not true. While serving, I handed Nolitha my camera and got back to work. Five minutes later she brought the camera up to me and asked where to turn it on. Another five minutes later, after joking in Xhosa with the mamas about them taking up so much space on the screen, she asked me how to actually take a picture.

The pictures she took were beautiful, check them out on Picasa. Monday will be a new week at the soup kitchen. There will be new mistakes, new experiences, and new memories. That is the beauty of this place called Africa…the mamas and children in the townships welcome my mistakes and successes probably because they are done with a willing heart.

I have seen a new side of Cape Town. My knowledge of the area is limited to the main street of Rondebosch, city center, Observatory, Liesbeck, Claremont, Clifton, and Camps Bay (might need to look up on a map these areas but note that most are just small neighborhoods/suburbs of Cape Towns). That is actually very limited. The day that Dustin got a car my view of Cape Town widened ten-fold. Now we could get into the townships, to the movie theater, to Long Street, to the beach, all without paying a R20 cab fee. Included with this was the opportunity to visit Fish Hoek.

Monday was a National Holiday, Family Day. Now what is Family Day exactly? I have no idea, but one thing I found out was that all the stores and restaurants that were open the day before, Easter, were now closed. Instead of showing Dustin a dead city we decided to enjoy the beach. Before going to the beach, however; Dustin’s childhood friend, Sebastian, called to hang out. He entered the Chapel Compound in airy “Africa” tie-dyed pants rolled up on one leg so that they wouldn’t catch in the chain of his bike.

Dustin, Sophie, and I spent the rest of the day with Sebs on the beach talking about politics, South African law, schools in America, sand art. In each conversation Sebs usually took the discussion to another level, often too high for the three of us to appreciate or even enjoy. But all in all, I really like him, and we said yes when he invited us to his birthday braai the next week.

So because we had a car, Dustin, Sophie, Sophie’s friend Etan, and I drove to Fish Hoek Sunday night. As we drove the other side of the Cape Peninsula came into view and here the Indian Ocean spread out before us. We drove down the main street of a few small towns including Muizenburg and Kalk Bay. Each had a bustling economy and smelt of fish and ocean.

On our way out of Fish Hoek after the braai, we drove through the mountains and back up through Hout Bay. The drive was so scenic, an awesome scene where massive rocks meet turbulent waters. My appreciation of how beautiful South Africa grew once stepping outside of the city and into the passenger seat of the car.