As I sit here typing this post from a hotel in Zanzibar, I feel as if I have already left Tanzania. The last two weeks have gone so fast. Getting everything finished for the project has taken up most of my waking hours this week and going to bed last night I felt a burden was lifted and I could rest easily. This morning we traveled to Dar by dalla-dalla (mini bus) and then hopped on a ferry across the short stretch of Indian Ocean separating Tanzania from Zanzibar. I haven’t really even left the country, but where I am now is so different from where I’ve come from.
When I first set foot in Tanzania 10 weeks ago, I was overwhelmed by it. The heat just pounded on me, the noises of cars honking, and the hustle and bustle of Dar made me question whether I was really supposed to be in Tanzania or if I should have gotten on a plane back to the US. Though I was hesitant at the start, I am so happy I decided to come here. Spending the time to get to know Bagamoyo was more than I could have hoped for. I feel that I really understand it. I know how life works here. I think the research I’ve been doing has helped immensely in this process. Sitting and listening to mothers talk about their lives, communities, and children has opened my eyes. Life here is hard. Mothers have to work on farms, take care of their kids, walk hours to fetch water, and be everything to their family. When health issues crop up, there is no one there to help and it is almost impossible for them to take the time to travel to the doctor. This past week, I went along with a friend of mine who is a Swiss doctor into the Hospital in Bagamoyo and got to see firsthand how this really affects people. I saw this mother, likely in her 40s, who had walked several miles to the hospital because of an abscess on her foot. This wasn’t just a small abscess, this wound had eaten away the entire top of her foot exposing all of the bones. And she walked miles to the hospital on that foot.
I also really got into the routine of life in Bagamoyo. I knew which dukas (shops kind of like a ticket window) had which things. I could tell you the best place to go to get lunch or show you where and when everyone goes to play soccer. I could tell you what my favorite Tanzanian drinks are and take you to the best beach. I had a place here. I would occasionally see a group of tourists walking by and think that I am different from them. I was in Bagamoyo for a purpose. Locals respected me because of what I was doing. I wasn’t just someone there for the beach view and historic ruins, I was there because I wanted to learn about life there.
Zanzibar has been so different from that motive and goal. I feel like a tourist. Looking around it sometimes seems like there are more wazungu (white people) than Africans. Everyone is a tourist here and that’s how the locals think of them. Suddenly I no longer have a place here. I’m back in my stereotype – a rich American. At dinner tonight, our waiter told us that he was very lucky tonight because he had 3 tables of people (including us) who tried to speak with him in Swahili. The majority of the wazungu do not care enough or take enough time to truly appreciate and respect the culture. I feel like I have lost all the progress I made in Bagamoyo. I’m back to being an American Tourist.
More than anything, I think my frustration comes from the feeling that I don’t fit in with the average American. I think I have really been changed by my time here this summer. I have different goals than the majority of the people I’m running into here. I’m not here to spend huge amounts of money, I’m here to enjoy and experience life in Zanzibar, just as I did in Bagamoyo, even though I don’t have much time here. Instead, I am finding that I have landed in a different world, one much too far from the simple life in Bagamoyo that I have come to know and love. All I really feel now is that I don’t belong here; I belong in Bagamoyo doing the things I’ve been doing for the past 10 weeks: talking to mothers, listening to the community, and seeking to understand how life can be improved for them. I’m enjoying my time on Zanzibar, but I’m also not ready to leave the place that has become home for me here. All things must come to an end, and that end has come and gone. I’m sure it will be difficult to board that plane on Wednesday, but this time on Zanzibar is proving to be a good step towards reintegration into American culture. When I set foot back in the US I know the easiest thing for me to do will be to completely reintegrate and forget the time I have spent here, but that is the one thing that I must avoid. This work in Bagamoyo is what I belong doing. What I need to focus on, is how to get back here to continue it.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
50 km Out of Town
Sorry for the delay in updating. I think what has ended up happening is that instead of both Marlene and I updating frequently, we have started to take turns writing updates. For those of you who don’t know, Marlene’s blog can be found at http://katika-imani.blogspot.com.
This past week, we went farther for our focus group than anyone in the Stanford group here has gone from Bagamoyo. Fifty kilometers straight inland. We passed by Soko Jipya, Kimara Ngombe, Mtoni, and then drove onwards. We drove past Fukayosi, the farthest village in the Stanford Group study, and then finally arrived in Kiwangwa. To our surprise, the first thing we saw was a bustling street filled with dukas (small window shops), several bars, and a bunch of piki pikis (motorcycles) lined up. It looked like it could have been some of the more secluded areas of Bagamoyo town. Certainly not like the village I had pictured though there were telltale signs that life was definitely different here. On our drive into town, we saw people towing carts full of water jugs back into the village from somewhere else. It was unclear how far they actually had to travel for their water, but apparently it was far enough that they wanted to bring lots of containers on each trip. In our focus group we learned that there were no clean sources of water in the village. Most people drank from either surface water or very shallow wells. On top of that, no one treats their water. Boiling is too much effort when they are out farming pineapples all day and other forms of water treatment are too expensive. There were even some who believed that if you weren’t used to boiled water, then drinking it could give you diarrhea!
Many of the other comments we received were similar to those we heard in other communities, but this group was much more willing to explain the ideas thoroughly. Looking through the translation of the group we have really started to be able to understand some of the insights and it has started to make me think about the overarching goal of this study and the Stanford group study. What I continue to notice is that it is not that these women don’t know they should treat their water or cover their latrine. They simply don’t have the means necessary to do it. Oftentimes we think that those in poverty just don’t know as much as those of us in the “first world.” We think of them with an attitude that focuses on what we, the educated, can teach the poor people. It isn’t that simple. Yes, there are knowledge and practices that they could learn, but we are not on a completely different level from them. We are more similar than we would like to let on sometimes. I constantly find myself thinking that I would do exactly what these women are doing if I were in their situation. If I had 7 children I wouldn’t use all the fuel necessary to boil water for all of them. If I had to choose between buying food for my family and buying a latrine cover or soap, then I’m going to take the food. When the only water source I have access to is half a day’s walk from my house, washing my hands seems like a waste of water. Is each of the 10 members of my family really supposed to wash their hands every time they use the latrine? Practices like use of communal water for hand-washing make sense. There is limited water so why not use as little as possible for hand washing?
I’m also not convinced that hand washing itself is the answer. It doesn’t necessarily clean your hands completely of germs. Even if it did, the environment here isn’t going to let those hands stay germ free for long. In the US, people don’t interact with their environment very often. We have counters to set food on, stoves to cook on, bed frames to sleep on, and in house piped water to drink. In Kiwangwa, every one of these things is on the dirt floor. You can’t touch the pot without touching the dirt around it. You can’t get water that’s clean. Everything is dirty and hand washing isn’t going to fix that fact. These people in Kiwangwa don’t need someone coming in telling them they need to wash their hands; they need someone coming in to drill a bore well.
This past week, we went farther for our focus group than anyone in the Stanford group here has gone from Bagamoyo. Fifty kilometers straight inland. We passed by Soko Jipya, Kimara Ngombe, Mtoni, and then drove onwards. We drove past Fukayosi, the farthest village in the Stanford Group study, and then finally arrived in Kiwangwa. To our surprise, the first thing we saw was a bustling street filled with dukas (small window shops), several bars, and a bunch of piki pikis (motorcycles) lined up. It looked like it could have been some of the more secluded areas of Bagamoyo town. Certainly not like the village I had pictured though there were telltale signs that life was definitely different here. On our drive into town, we saw people towing carts full of water jugs back into the village from somewhere else. It was unclear how far they actually had to travel for their water, but apparently it was far enough that they wanted to bring lots of containers on each trip. In our focus group we learned that there were no clean sources of water in the village. Most people drank from either surface water or very shallow wells. On top of that, no one treats their water. Boiling is too much effort when they are out farming pineapples all day and other forms of water treatment are too expensive. There were even some who believed that if you weren’t used to boiled water, then drinking it could give you diarrhea!
Many of the other comments we received were similar to those we heard in other communities, but this group was much more willing to explain the ideas thoroughly. Looking through the translation of the group we have really started to be able to understand some of the insights and it has started to make me think about the overarching goal of this study and the Stanford group study. What I continue to notice is that it is not that these women don’t know they should treat their water or cover their latrine. They simply don’t have the means necessary to do it. Oftentimes we think that those in poverty just don’t know as much as those of us in the “first world.” We think of them with an attitude that focuses on what we, the educated, can teach the poor people. It isn’t that simple. Yes, there are knowledge and practices that they could learn, but we are not on a completely different level from them. We are more similar than we would like to let on sometimes. I constantly find myself thinking that I would do exactly what these women are doing if I were in their situation. If I had 7 children I wouldn’t use all the fuel necessary to boil water for all of them. If I had to choose between buying food for my family and buying a latrine cover or soap, then I’m going to take the food. When the only water source I have access to is half a day’s walk from my house, washing my hands seems like a waste of water. Is each of the 10 members of my family really supposed to wash their hands every time they use the latrine? Practices like use of communal water for hand-washing make sense. There is limited water so why not use as little as possible for hand washing?
I’m also not convinced that hand washing itself is the answer. It doesn’t necessarily clean your hands completely of germs. Even if it did, the environment here isn’t going to let those hands stay germ free for long. In the US, people don’t interact with their environment very often. We have counters to set food on, stoves to cook on, bed frames to sleep on, and in house piped water to drink. In Kiwangwa, every one of these things is on the dirt floor. You can’t touch the pot without touching the dirt around it. You can’t get water that’s clean. Everything is dirty and hand washing isn’t going to fix that fact. These people in Kiwangwa don’t need someone coming in telling them they need to wash their hands; they need someone coming in to drill a bore well.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Routines, Routines
Looking back to my last posts, I have noticed that I really have not been very good about posting in Tanzania. I’m not going to try to rationalize, but I want to apologize for not posting as much news as I have in the past. There is something about settling into a routine that makes it hard to write interesting posts all the time. As routines go, it is pretty boring, so I’ll start off this post with the interesting things I did this weekend and those who are really committed can read about the routine at the end.
After getting a little stir crazy from being cooped up in the house or in the office working for the week, Marlene and I decided that we needed to get out and do something fun. After sleeping off the exhaustion for the week, we took a bike ride south from Bagamoyo to Kaole to visit the ancient ruins that reside there. Kaole was one of the first settlements by the Arabs in East Africa and dates back to approximately the 13th century. Kaole houses the ruins of the first mosque in East Africa and numerous other structures from this time period. There were many elaborate raised grave structures surrounding the mosque and the foundation of a house nearby. A guide took us around the ruins the entire time and explained a little bit about the history in pretty good English. He took us down to what was the first port in East Africa, but if he hadn’t said it, I would have had no idea. You couldn’t even see the ocean through the forest of mangrove trees that had grown there.
Down by the “port,” a group of locals from Kaole were collecting shellfish and boiling them. They were sitting on an enormous pile of shells. It reminded me of so much of what I learned about in my archeology class in Cape Town. Ancient humans used to collect specific types of shellfish for food and then bring them back to their dwelling where they would either heat them, or break the shell and leave piles of shells known as shell middens. It’s really interesting to see a modern day shell midden because this lifestyle is apparently not completely dead. I have to wonder what some archeologist a thousand years from now will think about the shell midden if they found it!
Visiting these ancient ruins was such a fun adventure. It amazes me how different this site would be run if in America. People are allowed to roam free among the ruins with nothing to prevent them from walking on, over, and through them. The only sign we saw indicating rules ‘advised’ guests not to climb on them. So much of this history has already been lost, but unfortunately with the current rules and maintenance, I don’t think this will last as long as it would if properly preserved. That is not the African way though, and it doesn’t get so much traffic that it is a problem. It was good to see groups of Tanzanian students visiting the ruins on field trips. I’m glad that they are learning about their history and I hope that they can learn to be proud of their country.
After we got back from the ruins, we had a relaxing afternoon before heading to a music festival that was in town at the local arts college. It was a competition between bands from much of East Africa and they ranged in talent immensely. Some of the guest bands were just incredible. All of the band members were under 21 in all of the groups because it was meant to showcase up and coming talent. This one guest band from South Africa was particularly great. They played a mix of drumming and Jazz with a tenor saxophone as the featured instrument. Then there were other guest bands that were just kind of interesting. This group of 15 year olds from Belgium came on stage and looked just like any high school band. The guitarist then began to just tear it up. All of the instruments were played extremely well, but the band could probably have chosen a better vocalist. It was still very strange to see a group of white, high school age Belgians playing for a crowd of Tanzanians.
Instead of staying at the concert all night, Marlene and I ducked out and went to have dinner together. We ate at the Bagamoyo Country Club (which isn’t much like a country club, but is a nice place nonetheless). When we arrived, we found that they had placed us at a candlelit table right next to the ocean. We both ordered steak (our only chance for meat is on the weekends) and just sat to enjoy each other and this magnificent venue. I couldn’t help wondering if I was really still in Africa or at some nice resort. It was quite a special evening and a well needed break from work. Our professor arrived late Saturday night and that meant that we had to work all Sunday with her, but Saturday was enough rest for a long time.
Ok. That was the fun part, now things get boring…
Proceed at your own risk of wanting to fall asleep from boredom.
My week usually starts pretty slowly (this week being the exception) on Monday morning because our enumerators don’t work Mondays. They only work 4 days a week (Tuesday through Friday) due to budget constraints and so our Mondays are usually spent running errands or getting things ready for when they do arrive. It’s really nice to not have a jarring Monday morning. It is almost as if the weekend just extends a little bit further into the week. Tuesday through Thursday are spent working with the enumerators on transcribing the focus group recording and then translating the entire group. It usually takes them about a day and a half to transcribe and translate one group which works out perfectly in our 4 day schedule because on Friday we hold two focus groups in the same village. We wake up early and travel by foot or by taxi to the place we will work for the day and start gathering the participants when we arrive. Our first group is usually supposed to start at 10 am, though the past two weeks the start time has been about an hour late. After an hour and a half of talking, most people are pretty tired and we will send them on their way. Lunch is next on the agenda and we usually eat and discuss the group with our enumerators. One of them has taken a liking to bringing food for the group, so we have gotten some very good local food! After lunch, we try to start the next group at 1 pm, though this time is also flexible like the morning. When we are finished with this second group, we head back to the office in town and translate the notes from each group so that we have some information to go on for the weekend. After this long last day of work, we head off to the weekend.
This is the routine we have been settling into over the past several weeks and it seems to be working out pretty well, though things have been thrown off at various points, and as much as you try to make it an actual routine, there always seems to be something in the way. Two weeks ago, for example, there was a national holiday on Wednesday called Saba Saba (7/7) which we had not remembered. As a result, we gave the enumerators the day off, only to figure out that we didn’t have enough work the next week to have them make up the day, so we ended up working Monday-Wednesday and then Friday last week because we ran out of work for them to do. This week, we switched back to the normal work days, but our partner organization is planning an introductory meeting (a little late for that) for this Friday. I’m still not convinced this meeting is actually going to take place, but it means that we’re doing our focus groups in Mapinga this Thursday instead.
After getting a little stir crazy from being cooped up in the house or in the office working for the week, Marlene and I decided that we needed to get out and do something fun. After sleeping off the exhaustion for the week, we took a bike ride south from Bagamoyo to Kaole to visit the ancient ruins that reside there. Kaole was one of the first settlements by the Arabs in East Africa and dates back to approximately the 13th century. Kaole houses the ruins of the first mosque in East Africa and numerous other structures from this time period. There were many elaborate raised grave structures surrounding the mosque and the foundation of a house nearby. A guide took us around the ruins the entire time and explained a little bit about the history in pretty good English. He took us down to what was the first port in East Africa, but if he hadn’t said it, I would have had no idea. You couldn’t even see the ocean through the forest of mangrove trees that had grown there.
Down by the “port,” a group of locals from Kaole were collecting shellfish and boiling them. They were sitting on an enormous pile of shells. It reminded me of so much of what I learned about in my archeology class in Cape Town. Ancient humans used to collect specific types of shellfish for food and then bring them back to their dwelling where they would either heat them, or break the shell and leave piles of shells known as shell middens. It’s really interesting to see a modern day shell midden because this lifestyle is apparently not completely dead. I have to wonder what some archeologist a thousand years from now will think about the shell midden if they found it!
Visiting these ancient ruins was such a fun adventure. It amazes me how different this site would be run if in America. People are allowed to roam free among the ruins with nothing to prevent them from walking on, over, and through them. The only sign we saw indicating rules ‘advised’ guests not to climb on them. So much of this history has already been lost, but unfortunately with the current rules and maintenance, I don’t think this will last as long as it would if properly preserved. That is not the African way though, and it doesn’t get so much traffic that it is a problem. It was good to see groups of Tanzanian students visiting the ruins on field trips. I’m glad that they are learning about their history and I hope that they can learn to be proud of their country.
After we got back from the ruins, we had a relaxing afternoon before heading to a music festival that was in town at the local arts college. It was a competition between bands from much of East Africa and they ranged in talent immensely. Some of the guest bands were just incredible. All of the band members were under 21 in all of the groups because it was meant to showcase up and coming talent. This one guest band from South Africa was particularly great. They played a mix of drumming and Jazz with a tenor saxophone as the featured instrument. Then there were other guest bands that were just kind of interesting. This group of 15 year olds from Belgium came on stage and looked just like any high school band. The guitarist then began to just tear it up. All of the instruments were played extremely well, but the band could probably have chosen a better vocalist. It was still very strange to see a group of white, high school age Belgians playing for a crowd of Tanzanians.
Instead of staying at the concert all night, Marlene and I ducked out and went to have dinner together. We ate at the Bagamoyo Country Club (which isn’t much like a country club, but is a nice place nonetheless). When we arrived, we found that they had placed us at a candlelit table right next to the ocean. We both ordered steak (our only chance for meat is on the weekends) and just sat to enjoy each other and this magnificent venue. I couldn’t help wondering if I was really still in Africa or at some nice resort. It was quite a special evening and a well needed break from work. Our professor arrived late Saturday night and that meant that we had to work all Sunday with her, but Saturday was enough rest for a long time.
Ok. That was the fun part, now things get boring…
Proceed at your own risk of wanting to fall asleep from boredom.
My week usually starts pretty slowly (this week being the exception) on Monday morning because our enumerators don’t work Mondays. They only work 4 days a week (Tuesday through Friday) due to budget constraints and so our Mondays are usually spent running errands or getting things ready for when they do arrive. It’s really nice to not have a jarring Monday morning. It is almost as if the weekend just extends a little bit further into the week. Tuesday through Thursday are spent working with the enumerators on transcribing the focus group recording and then translating the entire group. It usually takes them about a day and a half to transcribe and translate one group which works out perfectly in our 4 day schedule because on Friday we hold two focus groups in the same village. We wake up early and travel by foot or by taxi to the place we will work for the day and start gathering the participants when we arrive. Our first group is usually supposed to start at 10 am, though the past two weeks the start time has been about an hour late. After an hour and a half of talking, most people are pretty tired and we will send them on their way. Lunch is next on the agenda and we usually eat and discuss the group with our enumerators. One of them has taken a liking to bringing food for the group, so we have gotten some very good local food! After lunch, we try to start the next group at 1 pm, though this time is also flexible like the morning. When we are finished with this second group, we head back to the office in town and translate the notes from each group so that we have some information to go on for the weekend. After this long last day of work, we head off to the weekend.
This is the routine we have been settling into over the past several weeks and it seems to be working out pretty well, though things have been thrown off at various points, and as much as you try to make it an actual routine, there always seems to be something in the way. Two weeks ago, for example, there was a national holiday on Wednesday called Saba Saba (7/7) which we had not remembered. As a result, we gave the enumerators the day off, only to figure out that we didn’t have enough work the next week to have them make up the day, so we ended up working Monday-Wednesday and then Friday last week because we ran out of work for them to do. This week, we switched back to the normal work days, but our partner organization is planning an introductory meeting (a little late for that) for this Friday. I’m still not convinced this meeting is actually going to take place, but it means that we’re doing our focus groups in Mapinga this Thursday instead.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The First “Focus Group”
Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I would have put this up sometime over the weekend, but all of the internet in Tanzania was down for several days. This is the first chance I have had on the internet in awhile, so here's the post I wrote several days ago...
Spending time here in Tanzania has been great so far. I think one of the things about it is that you don’t really begin to understand what life is like here until you try to actually make something happen. Doing research in the US is relatively straightforward. You can plan things and they will most likely go according to plan (or deviate in rather minor ways). Last minute fixes may be necessary, but very rarely do things go completely out of control. In Tanzania, there aren’t many places to go if things don’t quite work out. It’s not as easy as running to the store quickly to get something that was forgotten. If you run looking for a store in the first village we worked in, you will likely end up in marshy rice fields with crocodiles.
We held our first ‘focus group’ on this past Friday morning, and it was such a crazy experience. Our plan was to have this type of focused discussion with about 10 mothers of young children. The group was planned in advance with the local village health workers who were supposed to recruit the participants. We brought the correct number of gifts (soap packets and money for sodas) for the participants plus a few extra in case we had 12 participants instead of 10. As we were walking out the door of the house on our way to the group, Marlene mentioned that we should probably bring a little extra money just in case we needed it for anything. I didn’t realize at that moment how glad I would be later that she said that.
After stopping at the research office to gather our two enumerators, we drove off towards the village about 20 km from the center of Bagamoyo. The road was all sand and in very poor condition forcing us to move rather slowly the entire time. By the end, the road was surrounded by marshes that served as rice fields. It was pretty clear that this village would be unreachable during the rainy season as the road would be entirely submerged in water. Right in the middle of all the marshes was a small tightly packed village where we were to hold our focus group. As we drove up, we met the village health workers who ushered us into this covered area outside where the focus group would take place. When we arrived (half an hour after the group was supposed to start) the participants were just arriving. As they slowly piled in, it looked like it would be a good group. They came slowly and when there were about 15 mothers, it appeared to slow a little bit. I remarked to Marlene that this was a big group. If only I had known. More and more mothers kept coming, with two or three children in tow per mother. By the time they had stopped coming, we had more than 50 mothers and probably 80 or more children. This is where planning goes out the window. Apparently the village health workers or the village leader had invited every mother in the village. With more than 50 mothers, it is impossible to run a focus group. I thought it was going to be worthless and that we would not get any information from the group. Surprisingly, as mothers got settled and some left for lack of seating, the group calmed down and we had a really interesting discussion. There was nowhere to buy soap to give the group, but we did end up buying 48 sodas for them to drink. I was really glad that we brought the extra money.
Despite all the chaos and last minute confusion, it worked out. I think something I’m learning about Tanzania is that this is just how things work. Everything is organized at the last minute and you have to be flexible. Something will always go wrong and so you better be able to work without anything that you would like to have. The lifestyle here revolves around not planning in advance and taking life as it comes to you. It’s much different than I’m used to, but at the same time it is kind of relaxing to see that even when things can’t be planned to the finest detail, they work out. Being here is helping me to let go of my vice-like grip on planning in favor of taking each day one at a time.
Spending time here in Tanzania has been great so far. I think one of the things about it is that you don’t really begin to understand what life is like here until you try to actually make something happen. Doing research in the US is relatively straightforward. You can plan things and they will most likely go according to plan (or deviate in rather minor ways). Last minute fixes may be necessary, but very rarely do things go completely out of control. In Tanzania, there aren’t many places to go if things don’t quite work out. It’s not as easy as running to the store quickly to get something that was forgotten. If you run looking for a store in the first village we worked in, you will likely end up in marshy rice fields with crocodiles.
We held our first ‘focus group’ on this past Friday morning, and it was such a crazy experience. Our plan was to have this type of focused discussion with about 10 mothers of young children. The group was planned in advance with the local village health workers who were supposed to recruit the participants. We brought the correct number of gifts (soap packets and money for sodas) for the participants plus a few extra in case we had 12 participants instead of 10. As we were walking out the door of the house on our way to the group, Marlene mentioned that we should probably bring a little extra money just in case we needed it for anything. I didn’t realize at that moment how glad I would be later that she said that.
After stopping at the research office to gather our two enumerators, we drove off towards the village about 20 km from the center of Bagamoyo. The road was all sand and in very poor condition forcing us to move rather slowly the entire time. By the end, the road was surrounded by marshes that served as rice fields. It was pretty clear that this village would be unreachable during the rainy season as the road would be entirely submerged in water. Right in the middle of all the marshes was a small tightly packed village where we were to hold our focus group. As we drove up, we met the village health workers who ushered us into this covered area outside where the focus group would take place. When we arrived (half an hour after the group was supposed to start) the participants were just arriving. As they slowly piled in, it looked like it would be a good group. They came slowly and when there were about 15 mothers, it appeared to slow a little bit. I remarked to Marlene that this was a big group. If only I had known. More and more mothers kept coming, with two or three children in tow per mother. By the time they had stopped coming, we had more than 50 mothers and probably 80 or more children. This is where planning goes out the window. Apparently the village health workers or the village leader had invited every mother in the village. With more than 50 mothers, it is impossible to run a focus group. I thought it was going to be worthless and that we would not get any information from the group. Surprisingly, as mothers got settled and some left for lack of seating, the group calmed down and we had a really interesting discussion. There was nowhere to buy soap to give the group, but we did end up buying 48 sodas for them to drink. I was really glad that we brought the extra money.
Despite all the chaos and last minute confusion, it worked out. I think something I’m learning about Tanzania is that this is just how things work. Everything is organized at the last minute and you have to be flexible. Something will always go wrong and so you better be able to work without anything that you would like to have. The lifestyle here revolves around not planning in advance and taking life as it comes to you. It’s much different than I’m used to, but at the same time it is kind of relaxing to see that even when things can’t be planned to the finest detail, they work out. Being here is helping me to let go of my vice-like grip on planning in favor of taking each day one at a time.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The End of June and Time is Flying By
I’ve been in Tanzania now for 17 days, but it doesn’t feel that way at all. I keep going back and forth between thinking I’ve been here forever, and thinking that I’ve just arrived. After spending so long in Cape Town, my time here has been relatively short so far. I’m still just starting to get a sense of the place I’m in. There are things about Bagamoyo that I am just beginning to taste. Some of these are literally tastes. This past week I have started venturing out and purchasing food from ‘restaurants’ and street vendors along the road. One of the common things I have been eating is chipsi mayai. Basically, they take fries and cook them in a frying pan with an egg. The dish is then typically served with a mix of tomato sauce (fake ketchup) and some kind of spicy sauce (which is not that spicy). You typically eat the dish with two toothpicks, which is not an easy task, and inevitably the food touches your dirty hands and life goes on. Today Marlene and I tried a new addition. We went to the market and purchased all the ingredients for guacamole! I’ve really been missing any kind of food that is like Mexican food and so this was a real treat. The first adventure was trying to find fresh vegetables that looked like they hadn’t been sitting outside with the flies for too long. We washed the vegetables off before using them, but the wash water was also questionable. Hopefully all is ok. The guacamole was great though and really complemented the chipsi mayai.
As I’ve been adjusting to living here, these simple dishes are becoming normal. I’m getting used to the piki pikis (motorcycles) driving by all the time carrying passengers throughout town. I have a good sense of the layout of the town and I would feel comfortable walking anywhere here. Some of the people along the road to our research office know my name now. One particular group of painters is always very friendly with us. They are led by a man called Rasti, though as Marlene mentioned in her blog – his real name is David. He and his group of painters are Rastafarian and just sit all day painting, giving lessons, and just relaxing in the shade. Our conversations with them really demonstrate the nature of greeting here and so I want to go through our basic conversation with you.
Me: Mambo!
Rasti: Poa sana. Karibuni.
Me: Asante. Habari za asubuhi?
Rasti: Safi sana. Habari za kazi?
Me: Nzuri sana
…
5 minutes later:
Rasti: Karibuni sana.
Me: Asante sana. Baadaye.
Rasti: Siku njema.
Me: Siku njema!
Rasti: Baadaye!
Translation:
Me: How’s it going?
Rasti: Very cool. Welcome.
Me: Thank you. How is the morning?
Rasti: Very fresh. How is your work?
Me: Very Good.
…
5 minutes later:
Rasti: You are very welcome.
Me: Thank you very much. Later.
Rasti: Have a good day.
Me: Have a good day!
Rasti: Later!
Basically, it’s a game to see who can think of more greetings to say to make the other person respond. This isn’t just in conversations with Rasti; pretty much everyone just keeps greeting each other for several minutes before they get to the point. And, it is possible to have very pleasant conversations with people saying nothing but greetings. It’s kind of a cool cultural phenomenon.
Knowing these types of things makes me feel like I have been here for awhile. People in the community know who I am already. I’m not just a tourist (which you can pick out from a mile away). I’m still a mzungu, but the people who know me know that I’m doing research here and not just here because the Indian Ocean is a 5 minute walk from the house. I’m comfortable here now, which is a great. It’s amazing to think that I have just 8 weeks left in Tanzania.
Research is going well so far though. We have had two days of training with our enumerators this week and our first focus group will be on Friday. As we were discussing the questions for the groups with them, a couple really interesting insights came up. Basically, the whole goal of the larger project is to reach mothers with interventions that will improve the health of their children. Ideally, if the mother washed her hands more often, then the kid would as well. Our enumerators’ statements questioned this idea. There seems to be a huge disconnect between the hygiene expected of children and that expected of adults. The adults are expected to wash their hands before eating and some of them do, but children are not expected to meet the same standard. In addition, what was most surprising is that the feces of children are seen much differently than the feces of an adult. Adults are always expected to defecate in the latrine. Their feces are considered dirty and they will often wash their hands afterwards as well. The feces of young children, however, are not considered dirty. They will often not be placed in the latrine. If they are placed in the latrine, then the wash water from diapers will likely not be placed there. Instead, this water is not seen as dirty and will be spread in the garden or nearby the house. To compound matters, research shows that child feces are actually the most dangerous for children and will cause much more disease. Hearing this information was shocking and we are now including questions about differences in child versus adult hygiene in the focus group. I’m really excited that we’ll have some very interesting responses that will be able to help out in prevention measures in the future.
Hope that this post can fill some of the gaps in my writing. I’ll try to post after the focus group on Friday to let you know how it goes!
As I’ve been adjusting to living here, these simple dishes are becoming normal. I’m getting used to the piki pikis (motorcycles) driving by all the time carrying passengers throughout town. I have a good sense of the layout of the town and I would feel comfortable walking anywhere here. Some of the people along the road to our research office know my name now. One particular group of painters is always very friendly with us. They are led by a man called Rasti, though as Marlene mentioned in her blog – his real name is David. He and his group of painters are Rastafarian and just sit all day painting, giving lessons, and just relaxing in the shade. Our conversations with them really demonstrate the nature of greeting here and so I want to go through our basic conversation with you.
Me: Mambo!
Rasti: Poa sana. Karibuni.
Me: Asante. Habari za asubuhi?
Rasti: Safi sana. Habari za kazi?
Me: Nzuri sana
…
5 minutes later:
Rasti: Karibuni sana.
Me: Asante sana. Baadaye.
Rasti: Siku njema.
Me: Siku njema!
Rasti: Baadaye!
Translation:
Me: How’s it going?
Rasti: Very cool. Welcome.
Me: Thank you. How is the morning?
Rasti: Very fresh. How is your work?
Me: Very Good.
…
5 minutes later:
Rasti: You are very welcome.
Me: Thank you very much. Later.
Rasti: Have a good day.
Me: Have a good day!
Rasti: Later!
Basically, it’s a game to see who can think of more greetings to say to make the other person respond. This isn’t just in conversations with Rasti; pretty much everyone just keeps greeting each other for several minutes before they get to the point. And, it is possible to have very pleasant conversations with people saying nothing but greetings. It’s kind of a cool cultural phenomenon.
Knowing these types of things makes me feel like I have been here for awhile. People in the community know who I am already. I’m not just a tourist (which you can pick out from a mile away). I’m still a mzungu, but the people who know me know that I’m doing research here and not just here because the Indian Ocean is a 5 minute walk from the house. I’m comfortable here now, which is a great. It’s amazing to think that I have just 8 weeks left in Tanzania.
Research is going well so far though. We have had two days of training with our enumerators this week and our first focus group will be on Friday. As we were discussing the questions for the groups with them, a couple really interesting insights came up. Basically, the whole goal of the larger project is to reach mothers with interventions that will improve the health of their children. Ideally, if the mother washed her hands more often, then the kid would as well. Our enumerators’ statements questioned this idea. There seems to be a huge disconnect between the hygiene expected of children and that expected of adults. The adults are expected to wash their hands before eating and some of them do, but children are not expected to meet the same standard. In addition, what was most surprising is that the feces of children are seen much differently than the feces of an adult. Adults are always expected to defecate in the latrine. Their feces are considered dirty and they will often wash their hands afterwards as well. The feces of young children, however, are not considered dirty. They will often not be placed in the latrine. If they are placed in the latrine, then the wash water from diapers will likely not be placed there. Instead, this water is not seen as dirty and will be spread in the garden or nearby the house. To compound matters, research shows that child feces are actually the most dangerous for children and will cause much more disease. Hearing this information was shocking and we are now including questions about differences in child versus adult hygiene in the focus group. I’m really excited that we’ll have some very interesting responses that will be able to help out in prevention measures in the future.
Hope that this post can fill some of the gaps in my writing. I’ll try to post after the focus group on Friday to let you know how it goes!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Getting Settled After Adventuring
As you can probably tell, I haven’t updated my blog very much since getting to Tanzania. This has been a function of my limited internet access and the fact that I have been traveling all over the country. Marlene covered the travels in pretty good detail on her blog, but I want to cover some of the details and then focus on where I am now.
After Marlene and I arrived, we spent several days in Dar doing some work to prepare for our time here such as getting SIM cards for our phones and a modem for internet. Traveling around Dar was quite hectic and quite an experience. It was a little bit crazier than in Cape Town mostly because I didn’t understand the language and pretty much the entire city (and country) operates on the barter system. In Cape Town we would usually get taxis that were metered, but here you have to barter based on where you are going. The prices for items are not listed in most stores and these items are up for barter as well. This would be fine if I knew more of the language, but it has made my time a little crazy. Fortunately, Marlene is very competent in these situations and can speak enough Swahili to get a decent price. I’m slowly learning Swahili – I think I know the numbers pretty well now – and I’m using the Rosetta Stone program as well as my experience to try to improve.
After our time in Dar, we took a 12 hour bus ride out to Arusha so that we could go on a safari for 3 days. It was definitely a fun adventure. I’ve actually been on 3 days of safari previously so I have seen many of the animals, but this trip was really fun to do with Marlene. Some of the animals and views were also much more spectacular than in Botswana. I had seen 4 of the Big 5 animals before (Elephant, Buffalo, Lion, and Leopard), but this time I had the awesome opportunity to see the Rhino in the wild. In Ngorongoro Crater where we were for the middle day there are 15 rhinos left and we got to see both a mother and baby. It was awesome to see, but also sad to realize that this majestic species may not survive much longer. We also got to see a cheetah here which was really cool. It actually stood up and went into this tall grass towards a herd of zebra and wildebeest. We were really excited because we thought it was about to hunt, but as we drove quickly over in hopes of seeing the hunt, our guide said that there probably weren’t enough small animals in the herd for it to hunt. We were approaching the end of our time in the park as well and were forced to rush away to get out of the park before it closed. The next day we had the opportunity to see the biggest herds of elephants I’ve ever witnessed. I saw probably more than 100 elephants in Tarangire National Park. We got charged by one of them which had gotten angry at us for no reason at all. Our guide actually panicked a little bit, but as soon as we started driving the elephant stopped charging. I have a great picture of the elephant as it is starting to charge which I will try to post soon. It gave us quite the scare and got our hearts pumping, but in retrospect it was a really cool experience. Later in the day, though, when we rounded a corner to see an enormous solitary male elephant walking towards us down the road, we decided that we would back up and let it pass. Rather not risk being charged again.
We were pretty exhausted after the safari and decided that we would spend an extra day in Arusha instead of taking the bus back right away the next day. It was a great decision and we just had a chance to get some energy back before our work starts. Our trip back to Dar by bus was long and uneventful again and we pretty much stayed in the hotel before taking the trip up to Bagamoyo yesterday.
So now I’m where we’ll be working for the duration of the summer in Bagamoyo. The past two days have been spent getting acclimated to the town. Our house is pretty large and will be housing a total of 8 people this summer. The town itself is relatively rural. Most of the roads are dirt here. There is actually some interesting history here – this town used to be the German capital of Tanzania. Old ruins of the German buildings litter the town. It feels old. One of the coolest things about this town though, is that it is right on the coast of the Indian Ocean. If you look out the window from the research office we’ll be working in, you can see the coastline. As a result, there is also a nice breeze which helps temper the heat.
I’ve settled into my room by now and I’m really ready to start working on the research for this summer. I can already tell that I’ll be very busy with everything, but I’m encouraged that there is definitely support from the larger project. Intensive planning began today and will continue up until the focus groups are completed. I’ll let you know more about everything as it approaches and my updates should be slightly more regular now that things have settled down a little bit.
After Marlene and I arrived, we spent several days in Dar doing some work to prepare for our time here such as getting SIM cards for our phones and a modem for internet. Traveling around Dar was quite hectic and quite an experience. It was a little bit crazier than in Cape Town mostly because I didn’t understand the language and pretty much the entire city (and country) operates on the barter system. In Cape Town we would usually get taxis that were metered, but here you have to barter based on where you are going. The prices for items are not listed in most stores and these items are up for barter as well. This would be fine if I knew more of the language, but it has made my time a little crazy. Fortunately, Marlene is very competent in these situations and can speak enough Swahili to get a decent price. I’m slowly learning Swahili – I think I know the numbers pretty well now – and I’m using the Rosetta Stone program as well as my experience to try to improve.
After our time in Dar, we took a 12 hour bus ride out to Arusha so that we could go on a safari for 3 days. It was definitely a fun adventure. I’ve actually been on 3 days of safari previously so I have seen many of the animals, but this trip was really fun to do with Marlene. Some of the animals and views were also much more spectacular than in Botswana. I had seen 4 of the Big 5 animals before (Elephant, Buffalo, Lion, and Leopard), but this time I had the awesome opportunity to see the Rhino in the wild. In Ngorongoro Crater where we were for the middle day there are 15 rhinos left and we got to see both a mother and baby. It was awesome to see, but also sad to realize that this majestic species may not survive much longer. We also got to see a cheetah here which was really cool. It actually stood up and went into this tall grass towards a herd of zebra and wildebeest. We were really excited because we thought it was about to hunt, but as we drove quickly over in hopes of seeing the hunt, our guide said that there probably weren’t enough small animals in the herd for it to hunt. We were approaching the end of our time in the park as well and were forced to rush away to get out of the park before it closed. The next day we had the opportunity to see the biggest herds of elephants I’ve ever witnessed. I saw probably more than 100 elephants in Tarangire National Park. We got charged by one of them which had gotten angry at us for no reason at all. Our guide actually panicked a little bit, but as soon as we started driving the elephant stopped charging. I have a great picture of the elephant as it is starting to charge which I will try to post soon. It gave us quite the scare and got our hearts pumping, but in retrospect it was a really cool experience. Later in the day, though, when we rounded a corner to see an enormous solitary male elephant walking towards us down the road, we decided that we would back up and let it pass. Rather not risk being charged again.
We were pretty exhausted after the safari and decided that we would spend an extra day in Arusha instead of taking the bus back right away the next day. It was a great decision and we just had a chance to get some energy back before our work starts. Our trip back to Dar by bus was long and uneventful again and we pretty much stayed in the hotel before taking the trip up to Bagamoyo yesterday.
So now I’m where we’ll be working for the duration of the summer in Bagamoyo. The past two days have been spent getting acclimated to the town. Our house is pretty large and will be housing a total of 8 people this summer. The town itself is relatively rural. Most of the roads are dirt here. There is actually some interesting history here – this town used to be the German capital of Tanzania. Old ruins of the German buildings litter the town. It feels old. One of the coolest things about this town though, is that it is right on the coast of the Indian Ocean. If you look out the window from the research office we’ll be working in, you can see the coastline. As a result, there is also a nice breeze which helps temper the heat.
I’ve settled into my room by now and I’m really ready to start working on the research for this summer. I can already tell that I’ll be very busy with everything, but I’m encouraged that there is definitely support from the larger project. Intensive planning began today and will continue up until the focus groups are completed. I’ll let you know more about everything as it approaches and my updates should be slightly more regular now that things have settled down a little bit.
Monday, June 14, 2010
A New Beginning
As quickly as it came, my time in South Africa went. It was such a blast while it lasted and I know that I will miss some of what I experienced there, friends in particular (Hats off to Japan if you’re reading this Ken), but I am ready to move on to the next stage of my adventure. I landed in Tanzania yesterday afternoon, stepping off the plane into sweltering heat. My plane and Marlene’s plane actually pulled in at the exact same time and so I got to meet Marlene before we even went through customs in the Dar Es Salaam Airport! It was great to be able to get together with her because the customs situation was quite unclear. First, they had all 300 people who had just gotten off planes wait and fill out forms in this tiny little cramped space. Then, we proceeded to hand our passports along with these forms to a women at the counter along with the visa fee - $100 in cash and newer than 2006 – and then wait for our name to be called. From there we could literally grab our bags and walk out of the airport without being stopped. Clearly airport security in this country is not a very high priority.
What I saw when I got outside and during my time here so far has made me realize how different Tanzania is from South Africa. I thought I had seen the third world in my time in Cape Town and Botswana, but this is nothing like what I’ve experienced before. The infrastructure here is so far behind both countries I have been in previously. The ride to our hostel from the airport and all the car trips we have been on up to this point have taken us much longer than they needed to because the roads are in terrible condition and there is too much traffic to actually get anywhere quickly. At some points I wonder if it is even worth taking a taxi because we can literally walk as fast as the flow of traffic most of the time. I guess sitting in a taxi is a relief from walking in the scorching heat. It’s almost not worth taking a shower here because you start to sweat as soon as you get out. Walking along outside has also given me the opportunity to see the excellent water and sanitation that this country has to offer. Along both sides of the road our hostel is on are long pools of water/sewage that is just sitting stagnant. Looks like prime mosquito habitat. I have to make sure to take my malaria pills now. In addition to these puddles of sewage, as we were driving downtown today we went through one section that was completely submerged by water. Taking a quick glance around, I saw that the source was a ruptured sewage pipe which was still gushing. I guess this is why I came here to work on a water and sanitation project.
It is weird to be here now, because I suddenly feel like I don’t have a good sense of my surroundings anymore. Spending so much time in Cape Town helped me to become comfortable getting around. I knew the neighborhood, the transportation, and knew where to get things I need. Here, I feel lost. Most people only speak Swahili here and so suddenly my most important asset is missing. The currency is new and I don’t have a sense of that yet either. I think much of the next month is going to be spent learning some basic Swahili and getting to know what life in Tanzania is like. I was expecting this to be a different experience from Cape Town, but I have already been blown away by just how different it is. I’m excited to see what these next three months bring and to see an entirely different side of the third world.
For those of you that have been following diligently (or every once in awhile), I will continue to update my blog. I should have relatively reliable internet here as well so I will post as often as I can. Marlene is also keeping up her blog on the trip, so if I haven’t posted one day you should check her blog to see her take on everything we’re experiencing. I hope all of you are having a great start to your summers and I pray that they aren’t as hot as Tanzania!
What I saw when I got outside and during my time here so far has made me realize how different Tanzania is from South Africa. I thought I had seen the third world in my time in Cape Town and Botswana, but this is nothing like what I’ve experienced before. The infrastructure here is so far behind both countries I have been in previously. The ride to our hostel from the airport and all the car trips we have been on up to this point have taken us much longer than they needed to because the roads are in terrible condition and there is too much traffic to actually get anywhere quickly. At some points I wonder if it is even worth taking a taxi because we can literally walk as fast as the flow of traffic most of the time. I guess sitting in a taxi is a relief from walking in the scorching heat. It’s almost not worth taking a shower here because you start to sweat as soon as you get out. Walking along outside has also given me the opportunity to see the excellent water and sanitation that this country has to offer. Along both sides of the road our hostel is on are long pools of water/sewage that is just sitting stagnant. Looks like prime mosquito habitat. I have to make sure to take my malaria pills now. In addition to these puddles of sewage, as we were driving downtown today we went through one section that was completely submerged by water. Taking a quick glance around, I saw that the source was a ruptured sewage pipe which was still gushing. I guess this is why I came here to work on a water and sanitation project.
It is weird to be here now, because I suddenly feel like I don’t have a good sense of my surroundings anymore. Spending so much time in Cape Town helped me to become comfortable getting around. I knew the neighborhood, the transportation, and knew where to get things I need. Here, I feel lost. Most people only speak Swahili here and so suddenly my most important asset is missing. The currency is new and I don’t have a sense of that yet either. I think much of the next month is going to be spent learning some basic Swahili and getting to know what life in Tanzania is like. I was expecting this to be a different experience from Cape Town, but I have already been blown away by just how different it is. I’m excited to see what these next three months bring and to see an entirely different side of the third world.
For those of you that have been following diligently (or every once in awhile), I will continue to update my blog. I should have relatively reliable internet here as well so I will post as often as I can. Marlene is also keeping up her blog on the trip, so if I haven’t posted one day you should check her blog to see her take on everything we’re experiencing. I hope all of you are having a great start to your summers and I pray that they aren’t as hot as Tanzania!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The End is Near
Five minutes ago, I turned in my last paper to finish this quarter’s academic work. I’m done with my junior year and 5 days from the end of my time in Cape Town. I don’t know if words can describe what my time here has been like. I hope that this blog has given you a window into my experiences and that you have learned through them. I don’t know quite how to debrief my experiences other than to keep building on what I see and hear these last few days. Here it goes…
For the first time in weeks, I was actually distressed by a malnourished child. At the same time, my feelings were much different than they were with the first underweight children I saw here. This little girl was probably the worst I have seen in my life. Ever. She was 4 years and 9 months old and yet weighed just 6.1 kg. That’s just about 13.5 pounds. The child had fetal alcohol syndrome, a heart problem, a burn mark all down her chest probably from boiling water, and several other conditions that I couldn’t catch from the community health workers from Philani. It was a heartbreaking scene to watch as this little girl, not much bigger than many babies in the US, walked around gingerly and looked as if she would just fall over. I found my thoughts moving away from hope, rather than towards it. This little girl has very little hope of success in life. Her growth was stunted very young and with that she undoubtedly has many developmental issues. She will likely live out the rest of her life sick without the ability to have an education. She is stuck. Not by her own choice, but by choices outside her control. Seeing this picture unfold before my eyes made me realize that I have come to view this as the norm in these communities. I’m no longer surprised by stories like this; I get surprised when I see a healthy child. I automatically assume that if the child is healthy then the parents must be wealthy. The child must not live in a township, or if they do they must be in a nice home. I have spent my time here trying to see that everyone is equal and should have an equal right to work and health and everything, but I have ended up with an attitude that makes harsh assumptions based on the wellbeing of the child. I guess this has happened because most of the time, I’m right.
Life is not equal and it is certainly not fair. Money does matter here. There are no easy fixes. You cannot donate $50 to an organization and expect to change anything substantial. If you want to get into this, you have to dive in head first willing to give up far more than your money, or your time. You have to lose a part of yourself to this work, but mostly to the people. It is the people who matter in all of this. We get so caught up in the circumstances that we don’t stop to hear the stories along the way. So often we actually find that the stories actually show us the way. This little girl is a person who is worth caring for, not just a disappointing, hopeless project. Everything has hope, even if life isn’t fair and money matters. For people there is always hope. For this little girl, there is a life that is worth living.
For the first time in weeks, I was actually distressed by a malnourished child. At the same time, my feelings were much different than they were with the first underweight children I saw here. This little girl was probably the worst I have seen in my life. Ever. She was 4 years and 9 months old and yet weighed just 6.1 kg. That’s just about 13.5 pounds. The child had fetal alcohol syndrome, a heart problem, a burn mark all down her chest probably from boiling water, and several other conditions that I couldn’t catch from the community health workers from Philani. It was a heartbreaking scene to watch as this little girl, not much bigger than many babies in the US, walked around gingerly and looked as if she would just fall over. I found my thoughts moving away from hope, rather than towards it. This little girl has very little hope of success in life. Her growth was stunted very young and with that she undoubtedly has many developmental issues. She will likely live out the rest of her life sick without the ability to have an education. She is stuck. Not by her own choice, but by choices outside her control. Seeing this picture unfold before my eyes made me realize that I have come to view this as the norm in these communities. I’m no longer surprised by stories like this; I get surprised when I see a healthy child. I automatically assume that if the child is healthy then the parents must be wealthy. The child must not live in a township, or if they do they must be in a nice home. I have spent my time here trying to see that everyone is equal and should have an equal right to work and health and everything, but I have ended up with an attitude that makes harsh assumptions based on the wellbeing of the child. I guess this has happened because most of the time, I’m right.
Life is not equal and it is certainly not fair. Money does matter here. There are no easy fixes. You cannot donate $50 to an organization and expect to change anything substantial. If you want to get into this, you have to dive in head first willing to give up far more than your money, or your time. You have to lose a part of yourself to this work, but mostly to the people. It is the people who matter in all of this. We get so caught up in the circumstances that we don’t stop to hear the stories along the way. So often we actually find that the stories actually show us the way. This little girl is a person who is worth caring for, not just a disappointing, hopeless project. Everything has hope, even if life isn’t fair and money matters. For people there is always hope. For this little girl, there is a life that is worth living.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
TV Sets and Township Life
Wow - time flies by so quickly. I have just 2 weeks left here in Cape Town before I head up to Tanzania for the summer. It’s amazing to look back at what I’ve done and realize that there is still so much that I wish I had time to do. Cape Town is such a great city and there is so much to explore in South Africa. I guess I’ll just have to come back here again sometime!
I want to apologize for not writing as frequently as I did when the quarter began. As usually happens, work has piled up and I have been trying to spend all the free time that I have seeking to experience as much as I can. This pace doesn’t lend itself very well to sitting down and writing blog entries, but I hope that I can fill you in a little bit now.
Though my week was very busy, several experiences I had in the townships proved very influential and so this entry is about life in these areas. Last night, I had the opportunity to spend the night in Tambo Village, a township near Guguletu outside Cape Town. Stanford offered us this opportunity through a travel agency because they thought it would be educational and about half of the group actually came along to do it. I was afraid going in that it would be very focused on poverty tourism, but upon arrival it became clear that this was not the case. Another student and I stayed in a really nice house that featured two televisions, quite spacious living conditions, and several kids’ laptops (similar to the one laptop per child laptop). We were met by the Tata (father) of the house when we arrived and pretty quickly realized the focal point of the home – the TV set. When we arrived, the world rugby league final (which featured two South African teams) was on and Tata was glued to the television set, having been a rugby player himself in his youth. It was understandable that he would watch this sporting event, but what was not understandable is why the TV was on the entire time I was in that house except overnight. After we got back today, I discussed this with the other students who had stayed with different families and they all experienced the same thing. Each family was simply watching American shows on TV with all of their free time. What a great influence America has had here.
After we had eaten dinner, I got to see some of what township life outside the home looks like. One of the sons took us out into the community to walk by the bars around the house we were staying in. On our way about, we met quite a few people in the younger generation. All of them were very friendly, but at the same time there was an undeniable message hidden in our conversations. We were welcome to be there and they enjoyed having us, but we should not get comfortable because if we do it will not be safe. The man taking us around was sure to be within arm’s reach the entire time and we could sense that he was very alert. Each person we talked to was equally alert, even if they had been drinking because it was evident that anything could happen at any moment. When we learned this we decided to walk back to the house and call it a night.
As I witnessed in my time in the township, the younger generation is much wilder than the Tata we stayed with. There is a different attitude about life that is carefree and not so focused on obligations. These people are ‘seeking’ jobs, but not living their life as if that is a priority. I want to close out this entry with a story from my time at Philani that relates directly to this attitude of the younger generation. Back in April I wrote about a mother who brought her twin sons into the clinic. She was a relatively young mother and these two children were her first. I hadn’t seen the mother since she came back in April, but on Tuesday of this week she returned – with one child. One of her twins had passed away the week before. The mother had access to all of the resources she would need to take care of the child – free milk and porridge from Philani, a clinic through Philani as well as a clinic in town, a social worker to help her figure out how to better manage the children, and support from an outreach worker who visits several times a week. Despite all this, the mother kept behaving the same way and neglecting her child, and now she has only one twin to care for. The other twin that she did bring in was much worse than it had been before. She kept complaining that she didn’t like this one as much because he cried more than the one that died. This child is in danger of having the same fate as his twin. How do you respond to this situation? You can try to take the child away, but to where will he go? How long will it take before the legality is worked out and will the child still be alive then? Is there a way to help support the mother that she hasn’t already had access to? There are no easy answers – only more questions. And while we keep asking the questions, another child may be joining his brother on the other side.
I want to apologize for not writing as frequently as I did when the quarter began. As usually happens, work has piled up and I have been trying to spend all the free time that I have seeking to experience as much as I can. This pace doesn’t lend itself very well to sitting down and writing blog entries, but I hope that I can fill you in a little bit now.
Though my week was very busy, several experiences I had in the townships proved very influential and so this entry is about life in these areas. Last night, I had the opportunity to spend the night in Tambo Village, a township near Guguletu outside Cape Town. Stanford offered us this opportunity through a travel agency because they thought it would be educational and about half of the group actually came along to do it. I was afraid going in that it would be very focused on poverty tourism, but upon arrival it became clear that this was not the case. Another student and I stayed in a really nice house that featured two televisions, quite spacious living conditions, and several kids’ laptops (similar to the one laptop per child laptop). We were met by the Tata (father) of the house when we arrived and pretty quickly realized the focal point of the home – the TV set. When we arrived, the world rugby league final (which featured two South African teams) was on and Tata was glued to the television set, having been a rugby player himself in his youth. It was understandable that he would watch this sporting event, but what was not understandable is why the TV was on the entire time I was in that house except overnight. After we got back today, I discussed this with the other students who had stayed with different families and they all experienced the same thing. Each family was simply watching American shows on TV with all of their free time. What a great influence America has had here.
After we had eaten dinner, I got to see some of what township life outside the home looks like. One of the sons took us out into the community to walk by the bars around the house we were staying in. On our way about, we met quite a few people in the younger generation. All of them were very friendly, but at the same time there was an undeniable message hidden in our conversations. We were welcome to be there and they enjoyed having us, but we should not get comfortable because if we do it will not be safe. The man taking us around was sure to be within arm’s reach the entire time and we could sense that he was very alert. Each person we talked to was equally alert, even if they had been drinking because it was evident that anything could happen at any moment. When we learned this we decided to walk back to the house and call it a night.
As I witnessed in my time in the township, the younger generation is much wilder than the Tata we stayed with. There is a different attitude about life that is carefree and not so focused on obligations. These people are ‘seeking’ jobs, but not living their life as if that is a priority. I want to close out this entry with a story from my time at Philani that relates directly to this attitude of the younger generation. Back in April I wrote about a mother who brought her twin sons into the clinic. She was a relatively young mother and these two children were her first. I hadn’t seen the mother since she came back in April, but on Tuesday of this week she returned – with one child. One of her twins had passed away the week before. The mother had access to all of the resources she would need to take care of the child – free milk and porridge from Philani, a clinic through Philani as well as a clinic in town, a social worker to help her figure out how to better manage the children, and support from an outreach worker who visits several times a week. Despite all this, the mother kept behaving the same way and neglecting her child, and now she has only one twin to care for. The other twin that she did bring in was much worse than it had been before. She kept complaining that she didn’t like this one as much because he cried more than the one that died. This child is in danger of having the same fate as his twin. How do you respond to this situation? You can try to take the child away, but to where will he go? How long will it take before the legality is worked out and will the child still be alive then? Is there a way to help support the mother that she hasn’t already had access to? There are no easy answers – only more questions. And while we keep asking the questions, another child may be joining his brother on the other side.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Mountains Rise on One Side and Fall on the Other
Time is continuing to fly by here in South Africa and sadly I have just 3 weeks left here. It is amazing to think of how fast my timer here has passed. I have been so privileged to see and experience all that I have so far. This blog entry is going to be a mix of two very different experiences that I’ve had since my last post and I’m hoping that the title will be enough to link them together, even though they are largely unrelated. If not, then I hope you enjoy them each individually.
As I mentioned, I spent the weekend in the Drakensburg Mountains on the border of Lesotho. A group of us flew to Durban on Thursday afternoon and then drove rental cars 3 hours up into the mountains to the northern part of the mountain range to a place called the Amphitheatre where we spent the next three nights. We got in late the first night so we didn’t get a chance to look at our surroundings very well, but when we woke up the next morning we were stunned by the gorgeous view out of our hostel. As far as the eye could see were beautiful mountains.
When we woke up on Friday, we immediately got on a mini-bus for a trip to Lesotho that was organized by the hostel. We drove for about an hour and a half up into the mountains and onto a dirt road before we reached the border. We got our passports stamped out of South Africa and then continued driving. I expected to reach the Lesotho side of border control, but it never arrived in front of us. Apparently Lesotho is so small that they simply use South Africa for their border control. Somehow I think that there isn’t a huge immigration problem at the border we crossed. We traveled on dirt roads until we reached a small village in the mountains about 15 minutes from the border. Despite being so close to a city on the South Africa side, this village was anything but urban. Little round huts dotted the countryside where lots of corn and vegetables grew and cows wandered without fences. Our first stop in country was at a small school which the hostel supports. The principal spoke to us and was very vocal about the issues facing her community, but also her tremendous sense of hope. It was hard to be so hopeful when we found out some practical information about the village. The nearest medical clinic of any kind was a three hour drive by car unless the person had a passport to go to the South African side which we were told was unlikely. In addition to this, there were only three cars in the surrounding area and no petrol stations, so these people were unlikely to actually lend out their car unless someone was actually dying. The people of the village are forced to practice entirely traditional medicine. No one knows if there is a high prevalence of HIV/AIDS and there would be no way to treat it if that were the case. This was on my mind the rest of the day as we hiked around the surrounding hills in the village and learned more about life in Lesotho. I was exhausted when we got back to the hostel and headed to sleep pretty quickly to get some rest for the next day’s activities.
Saturday brought another hostel-organized trip, this time to hike up the Amphitheatre itself. We again got on a minibus and drove over to the trailhead and began to start hiking. We began at around 2500 meters (8,250 ft) and at our highest point we reached 3100 meters (10,230 ft). Our hike was mostly switchbacks on the way up, until we were near the top. For the last 250 meters we went up a ravine by scrambling up rocks. It was really steep, but you would all be happy to know that I was the first to reach the top. When we got there, we were greeted by the most majestic views. We could see the entire Amphitheatre from the top and on all sides there was at least a 1 km drop. It was truly breathtaking. We ate lunch with one of the best views I have ever had. From there we hiked over to the top of a waterfall that descends the Amphitheatre. It is called Tugela Falls and is the second highest waterfall in the world at 986 m. Unfortunately it has relatively low flow and so is not nearly so spectacular, but the surrounding views made up for it. On our descent, we took several chain ladders that stretched for 40 feet down several rock faces. That led us to the same trail we came in on and we headed back to the hostel.
On Sunday we just drove back to the airport after a relaxed morning and arrived back in Cape Town late at night. I spent the rest of the night catching up on emails I missed over the weekend and then got some rest before my long week. Pictures from the trip can be found on Picasa.
Every Monday morning, I go to Dunoon Township with my course on AIDS to work with a nonprofit running a home based care system. Today was special because we arranged a meeting with all of the health workers and all of the Stanford students that included elements of a focus group. The purpose of the meeting was to give feedback to each other on what the experience was like for both sides and how we can finish our time together by leaving a real impact. The experience was both rewarding as well as challenging. From the conversation it became clear that our presence had helped renew a sense of pride and excitement about what they were doing. They were glad that we really listened to what they had been telling us over the past nine weeks. By the end of the focus group, every one of the home based care workers was smiling.
Everything seemed great until several undertones came into focus. There were several mentions about how our presence as Americans had made important entities in the community actually listen to them and take them seriously. Several of the women mentioned that they were excited for us to go home and tell others about their operation with the sense that we would recruit sponsors. The final piece that caused uneasiness to spread throughout our group was a statement by one of the health care workers. “Now that you are here, I’m expecting something to change, here in Dunoon.” Our time here, though we may have done a few things, cannot possibly cause large scale change. I don’t believe that there is going to be a big change in the operation of the NGO because we really have done very little to actually change anything. We have been building this mountain of hope, but when we leave it all going to come crashing down. People will go back to ignoring the community health workers and we will no longer be around to use our American influence. The only thing that may help them is that our research into mapping the patients they see may be able to get money to increase the salaries of the home based care workers. Rather than setting them up for change, it appears that they are more likely headed for a crash and burn at the bottom. I can only hope that a Stanford partnership that is being built with the organization will continue and that those who follow us at this NGO will be able to keep the momentum going up the mountain instead of letting it all come crashing down.
As I mentioned, I spent the weekend in the Drakensburg Mountains on the border of Lesotho. A group of us flew to Durban on Thursday afternoon and then drove rental cars 3 hours up into the mountains to the northern part of the mountain range to a place called the Amphitheatre where we spent the next three nights. We got in late the first night so we didn’t get a chance to look at our surroundings very well, but when we woke up the next morning we were stunned by the gorgeous view out of our hostel. As far as the eye could see were beautiful mountains.
When we woke up on Friday, we immediately got on a mini-bus for a trip to Lesotho that was organized by the hostel. We drove for about an hour and a half up into the mountains and onto a dirt road before we reached the border. We got our passports stamped out of South Africa and then continued driving. I expected to reach the Lesotho side of border control, but it never arrived in front of us. Apparently Lesotho is so small that they simply use South Africa for their border control. Somehow I think that there isn’t a huge immigration problem at the border we crossed. We traveled on dirt roads until we reached a small village in the mountains about 15 minutes from the border. Despite being so close to a city on the South Africa side, this village was anything but urban. Little round huts dotted the countryside where lots of corn and vegetables grew and cows wandered without fences. Our first stop in country was at a small school which the hostel supports. The principal spoke to us and was very vocal about the issues facing her community, but also her tremendous sense of hope. It was hard to be so hopeful when we found out some practical information about the village. The nearest medical clinic of any kind was a three hour drive by car unless the person had a passport to go to the South African side which we were told was unlikely. In addition to this, there were only three cars in the surrounding area and no petrol stations, so these people were unlikely to actually lend out their car unless someone was actually dying. The people of the village are forced to practice entirely traditional medicine. No one knows if there is a high prevalence of HIV/AIDS and there would be no way to treat it if that were the case. This was on my mind the rest of the day as we hiked around the surrounding hills in the village and learned more about life in Lesotho. I was exhausted when we got back to the hostel and headed to sleep pretty quickly to get some rest for the next day’s activities.
Saturday brought another hostel-organized trip, this time to hike up the Amphitheatre itself. We again got on a minibus and drove over to the trailhead and began to start hiking. We began at around 2500 meters (8,250 ft) and at our highest point we reached 3100 meters (10,230 ft). Our hike was mostly switchbacks on the way up, until we were near the top. For the last 250 meters we went up a ravine by scrambling up rocks. It was really steep, but you would all be happy to know that I was the first to reach the top. When we got there, we were greeted by the most majestic views. We could see the entire Amphitheatre from the top and on all sides there was at least a 1 km drop. It was truly breathtaking. We ate lunch with one of the best views I have ever had. From there we hiked over to the top of a waterfall that descends the Amphitheatre. It is called Tugela Falls and is the second highest waterfall in the world at 986 m. Unfortunately it has relatively low flow and so is not nearly so spectacular, but the surrounding views made up for it. On our descent, we took several chain ladders that stretched for 40 feet down several rock faces. That led us to the same trail we came in on and we headed back to the hostel.
On Sunday we just drove back to the airport after a relaxed morning and arrived back in Cape Town late at night. I spent the rest of the night catching up on emails I missed over the weekend and then got some rest before my long week. Pictures from the trip can be found on Picasa.
Every Monday morning, I go to Dunoon Township with my course on AIDS to work with a nonprofit running a home based care system. Today was special because we arranged a meeting with all of the health workers and all of the Stanford students that included elements of a focus group. The purpose of the meeting was to give feedback to each other on what the experience was like for both sides and how we can finish our time together by leaving a real impact. The experience was both rewarding as well as challenging. From the conversation it became clear that our presence had helped renew a sense of pride and excitement about what they were doing. They were glad that we really listened to what they had been telling us over the past nine weeks. By the end of the focus group, every one of the home based care workers was smiling.
Everything seemed great until several undertones came into focus. There were several mentions about how our presence as Americans had made important entities in the community actually listen to them and take them seriously. Several of the women mentioned that they were excited for us to go home and tell others about their operation with the sense that we would recruit sponsors. The final piece that caused uneasiness to spread throughout our group was a statement by one of the health care workers. “Now that you are here, I’m expecting something to change, here in Dunoon.” Our time here, though we may have done a few things, cannot possibly cause large scale change. I don’t believe that there is going to be a big change in the operation of the NGO because we really have done very little to actually change anything. We have been building this mountain of hope, but when we leave it all going to come crashing down. People will go back to ignoring the community health workers and we will no longer be around to use our American influence. The only thing that may help them is that our research into mapping the patients they see may be able to get money to increase the salaries of the home based care workers. Rather than setting them up for change, it appears that they are more likely headed for a crash and burn at the bottom. I can only hope that a Stanford partnership that is being built with the organization will continue and that those who follow us at this NGO will be able to keep the momentum going up the mountain instead of letting it all come crashing down.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Strandlopers, Shell Middens, and the Police
Today began my weekend of fun, sort of. I technically still have class tomorrow morning, but that will only be a short interruption in the otherwise great adventure. I woke up this morning and got in a van with my archeology class and drove off to Langerbaan. As a class we were going to get lunch at this restaurant called Strandlopers and after the meal I am sure that early modern humans must have survived on shellfish and lived along the coast. Our lunch consisted of 10 courses of various shellfish, seafood and other items. Items (in order) included mussels with garlic, freshly baked bread, bokkom (fish), seafood paella, snoek (more fish) with potatoes and sweet potatoes, lamb stew with some kind of seaweed flower in it, smoked angelfish, some other grilled fish, lobster-sized crayfish, and koek sisters (donuts). All of the food was served in a sort of buffet style, but one at a time. We would have to collect the food from various grills and pots around the restaurant where they were cooking each dish once they were ready. It was quite a fun experience and the atmosphere was great. The restaurant was entirely outside with a sandy floor. We ate under small covered sections right next to the ocean. A guitarist was playing for the group the whole time. To add to the fun, mussel shells served as our silverware throughout the meal. We began eating at around 12:30 and didn’t leave the restaurant until 3:30 in the afternoon. At that point I was the fullest I have been so far in South Africa.
From the restaurant we drove a few kilometers to a new archeological site that our professor will be excavating starting next year. It was really exciting to get a chance to see what archeology is actually like on the ground. The site was on a fairly steep slope and there was no visible cave, only sandy soil that appeared to be filling in the cave. It was a really interesting site because there were actually two distinct sections. One of them was filled with all sorts of animal bones (mostly smaller mammals) and our professor told us that it was likely a hyena cave. The other side was much different and contained a shell midden (literally a pile of shells) which would not have been collected by the hyena. In addition, it had numerous pieces of ostrich egg shells, which were used as liquid containers by early people. Several stone tools littered the edges as well and it was clear that this was the site of early modern humans, likely from the middle stone age (approximately 150,000 years ago to 50,000 years ago).
Just as we were exploring the site and looking at everything that was littering the ground, a police car drove up the road just down the hill from us and motioned for us to come down from the slope. He was not happy and told us that we were on private property and that we were eroding the slope by climbing on it. Our professor chimed in that he was an archeologist from UCT and this seemed to help, but he still was not happy with us explaining that we still needed permission. I couldn’t help thinking that our professor had just gotten a bit excited about the site and just barged right in. Getting to know him it has been great. He just has this bounce to him whenever he is talking about or exploring archeological sites. Today was no different – though it took a police altercation to deflate the fun.
Tomorrow I fly to Durban and then drive up to the Drakensburg Mountains on the Lesotho border. I won’t be able to update my blog until I get back, but I hope that you all can wait and I promise to have lots of stories to bring back!
From the restaurant we drove a few kilometers to a new archeological site that our professor will be excavating starting next year. It was really exciting to get a chance to see what archeology is actually like on the ground. The site was on a fairly steep slope and there was no visible cave, only sandy soil that appeared to be filling in the cave. It was a really interesting site because there were actually two distinct sections. One of them was filled with all sorts of animal bones (mostly smaller mammals) and our professor told us that it was likely a hyena cave. The other side was much different and contained a shell midden (literally a pile of shells) which would not have been collected by the hyena. In addition, it had numerous pieces of ostrich egg shells, which were used as liquid containers by early people. Several stone tools littered the edges as well and it was clear that this was the site of early modern humans, likely from the middle stone age (approximately 150,000 years ago to 50,000 years ago).
Just as we were exploring the site and looking at everything that was littering the ground, a police car drove up the road just down the hill from us and motioned for us to come down from the slope. He was not happy and told us that we were on private property and that we were eroding the slope by climbing on it. Our professor chimed in that he was an archeologist from UCT and this seemed to help, but he still was not happy with us explaining that we still needed permission. I couldn’t help thinking that our professor had just gotten a bit excited about the site and just barged right in. Getting to know him it has been great. He just has this bounce to him whenever he is talking about or exploring archeological sites. Today was no different – though it took a police altercation to deflate the fun.
Tomorrow I fly to Durban and then drive up to the Drakensburg Mountains on the Lesotho border. I won’t be able to update my blog until I get back, but I hope that you all can wait and I promise to have lots of stories to bring back!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Rebirth of the Blog
As many of you may have noticed, my blog has been awfully quiet for the last 10 days. I don’t have any grand excuse for this other than the fact that I have been too busy to write. Obviously that begs the question – what was keeping me so busy? Unfortunately, the answer is not that exciting – mostly school work and volunteering at Philani. The reason I was so busy with all of this work is because: 1. It is nearing the end of the quarter, and 2. I was preparing for my two weekend trips, one of which was this past weekend!
Our entire Stanford group was in the Cederberg Mountains this weekend on our Bing trip (the Bings are major donors for the program and fund a weekend excursion for cultural enhancement). For those who aren’t familiar with this particular mountain range – it is home to thousands of ancient rock paintings. Some of these sites have paintings that are up to 15,000 years old! I have posted a few pictures from this weekend on Picasa so you can get an idea of the trip. It was really fun and it complemented my archeology class really nicely. The professor for that class was actually on the trip and served as our guide. He is one of the leading experts on these rock paintings and has written a book about them. I was talking to some other people in our program and they were commenting on how he is just so passionate about his work that he really makes ancient history come alive.
I think my favorite part of the weekend was some of the hiking that was necessary to reach these cave painting sites. We hiked, scrambled, and bouldered to the sites, often getting quite dirty in the process. Because of all that was required to get there, the sites often had spectacular views around them. In fact, even the views from our guest houses were spectacular. The sunset and sunrise were incredible. At night, there were more stars visible than I have seen in quite a long time. I tried taking some pictures, but they definitely don’t do it justice..
That was basically my weekend. I have another trip coming up next weekend. On Thursday afternoon, a small group of us will be flying to Durban and renting cars to drive up to the Drakensburg Mountains on the Lesotho border. The mountain range is a World Heritage Site and is supposed to be spectacular. I can’t wait to see it!
Our entire Stanford group was in the Cederberg Mountains this weekend on our Bing trip (the Bings are major donors for the program and fund a weekend excursion for cultural enhancement). For those who aren’t familiar with this particular mountain range – it is home to thousands of ancient rock paintings. Some of these sites have paintings that are up to 15,000 years old! I have posted a few pictures from this weekend on Picasa so you can get an idea of the trip. It was really fun and it complemented my archeology class really nicely. The professor for that class was actually on the trip and served as our guide. He is one of the leading experts on these rock paintings and has written a book about them. I was talking to some other people in our program and they were commenting on how he is just so passionate about his work that he really makes ancient history come alive.
I think my favorite part of the weekend was some of the hiking that was necessary to reach these cave painting sites. We hiked, scrambled, and bouldered to the sites, often getting quite dirty in the process. Because of all that was required to get there, the sites often had spectacular views around them. In fact, even the views from our guest houses were spectacular. The sunset and sunrise were incredible. At night, there were more stars visible than I have seen in quite a long time. I tried taking some pictures, but they definitely don’t do it justice..
That was basically my weekend. I have another trip coming up next weekend. On Thursday afternoon, a small group of us will be flying to Durban and renting cars to drive up to the Drakensburg Mountains on the Lesotho border. The mountain range is a World Heritage Site and is supposed to be spectacular. I can’t wait to see it!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Education in South Africa is Colorblind
My week has been a rush again and so I haven’t been writing as much as I would like. Today is going to focus on education which intersects so many different fields and relates to some of my work at Philani as well. This morning for our service learning class, we had a guest lecturer from UCT that spoke on education in the Western Cape province. He was from a very interesting background having done graduate work at UCT before becoming a teacher in Khayelitsha in 1984. He worked there until after the fall of Apartheid and is now a professor at UCT. He has really experienced both worlds and it was really obvious how much that was affecting him.
To begin the class, we watched a documentary style film about the first class of students to graduate from high school without ever being schooled in Apartheid. The website for the documentary is testinghope.com. These students were from Nyanga, one of the townships outside of Cape Town and very close to the clinics I work in with Philani. In order to graduate, students must take and pass a test called “Matric.” The film followed these students from Nyanga in the weeks leading up to the Matric exam and then afterwards. To these students, Matric is their key to the future. One of the students in the film went so far as to say that getting Matric would “make my life really, really great.” They hang so much value on passing this exam. They think that if they do succeed, it will dramatically change their lives. Unfortunately, as the film showed, this is sadly not the case.
I really felt for the several students that they followed in the film. All of the ones they followed passed their exams, but they still remained subject to their own circumstances. One of the students had a past in gang activity and though he passed the exam, he was ultimately murdered just a few years after the film was completed. Another girl had dreams of being a lawyer, but her mother didn’t like that she was studying so much and thought she should learn to cook and clean the house. Though she enrolled in a paralegal course, she became pregnant at the age of 19 and was ultimately trapped by her experiences. Yet another girl had dreams of being a doctor and she succeeded in entering a technical school after the exam to become a nurse, but her family could not afford it and she was forced to leave the school. The last of the students they followed hits me perhaps the hardest of all of them. This boy had the entire expectations of his family on his shoulders. Though his single mother had several other children, she was pouring all of her resources into him so that he could lift them out of poverty when he graduated and went to university. He had dreams of being a civil engineer and supporting his family to bring them out of Nyanga. He did the very best he could and ended up receiving the highest marks in the school on his Matric exam. Despite his score, he was unable to gain admission to UCT. In fact, he had less than half of the mark required for entry into the engineering program. Even though he was the best in all of Oscar Mpetha High School, he was so far behind the rest of South Africa. He is currently taking a preparatory course to retake his Matric exams hoping for a higher score, but the movie had no final information on the results of his pursuits.
The best in Nyanga was half as good as the minimum requirements to enter UCT. This is hardly unique to Nyanga. In South Africa, 95% of whites pass the Matric exams compared to 61% of blacks. At Oscar Mpetha High School, only 36.5% of the class passed their Matric exams in 2006. The levels continued to decline from when this movie was filmed. Recent data from the townships around Cape Town, which includes thousands of black children, is very disheartening. Grade 9 learners in the townships were told to take the Grade 8 standardized test and only 124 black students from the townships around Cape Town achieved a 50% on the test. That is less than 0.1% of all black students in this region. How do we even begin to comprehend the disadvantages of those in this community?
We have to look at why this is the case. So much of this comes down to what has been termed “structural violence,” which are structural disadvantages that are innate either culturally or on a governmental level that ultimately harm the individuals in that environment. The students in the film very clearly illustrate some of these boundaries. So many things are valued above schooling in the townships. If someone is working too hard in school they are accused of thinking that they are better than the people they are surrounded by. This plagued the student who was ultimately killed in gang violence. It was almost unavoidable for him in Nyanga where there are 400-500 murders every year, many gang related. Others can’t break free of the cultural roles that are so ingrained in their culture. The girl who got pregnant was trapped in this way. She was told all her life that her purpose was to bear children and remain in the home and ultimately that cultural position caught up with her. So many people think that Matric will solve all of their problems, but they place too much faith in it. When they finally do get there, they realize that they are still in an environment with a 40% unemployment rate and many still cannot find jobs or make it in higher education. I have really witnessed these structural disadvantages in the mothers that come into Philani. They are trapped by their environment.
South Africa may say that education in colorblind, but by that they only mean they are blind to the huge discrepancies faced by different populations of different races. If they truly saw that schools in black communities have declined since Apartheid, then surely they would have done something about it.
To begin the class, we watched a documentary style film about the first class of students to graduate from high school without ever being schooled in Apartheid. The website for the documentary is testinghope.com. These students were from Nyanga, one of the townships outside of Cape Town and very close to the clinics I work in with Philani. In order to graduate, students must take and pass a test called “Matric.” The film followed these students from Nyanga in the weeks leading up to the Matric exam and then afterwards. To these students, Matric is their key to the future. One of the students in the film went so far as to say that getting Matric would “make my life really, really great.” They hang so much value on passing this exam. They think that if they do succeed, it will dramatically change their lives. Unfortunately, as the film showed, this is sadly not the case.
I really felt for the several students that they followed in the film. All of the ones they followed passed their exams, but they still remained subject to their own circumstances. One of the students had a past in gang activity and though he passed the exam, he was ultimately murdered just a few years after the film was completed. Another girl had dreams of being a lawyer, but her mother didn’t like that she was studying so much and thought she should learn to cook and clean the house. Though she enrolled in a paralegal course, she became pregnant at the age of 19 and was ultimately trapped by her experiences. Yet another girl had dreams of being a doctor and she succeeded in entering a technical school after the exam to become a nurse, but her family could not afford it and she was forced to leave the school. The last of the students they followed hits me perhaps the hardest of all of them. This boy had the entire expectations of his family on his shoulders. Though his single mother had several other children, she was pouring all of her resources into him so that he could lift them out of poverty when he graduated and went to university. He had dreams of being a civil engineer and supporting his family to bring them out of Nyanga. He did the very best he could and ended up receiving the highest marks in the school on his Matric exam. Despite his score, he was unable to gain admission to UCT. In fact, he had less than half of the mark required for entry into the engineering program. Even though he was the best in all of Oscar Mpetha High School, he was so far behind the rest of South Africa. He is currently taking a preparatory course to retake his Matric exams hoping for a higher score, but the movie had no final information on the results of his pursuits.
The best in Nyanga was half as good as the minimum requirements to enter UCT. This is hardly unique to Nyanga. In South Africa, 95% of whites pass the Matric exams compared to 61% of blacks. At Oscar Mpetha High School, only 36.5% of the class passed their Matric exams in 2006. The levels continued to decline from when this movie was filmed. Recent data from the townships around Cape Town, which includes thousands of black children, is very disheartening. Grade 9 learners in the townships were told to take the Grade 8 standardized test and only 124 black students from the townships around Cape Town achieved a 50% on the test. That is less than 0.1% of all black students in this region. How do we even begin to comprehend the disadvantages of those in this community?
We have to look at why this is the case. So much of this comes down to what has been termed “structural violence,” which are structural disadvantages that are innate either culturally or on a governmental level that ultimately harm the individuals in that environment. The students in the film very clearly illustrate some of these boundaries. So many things are valued above schooling in the townships. If someone is working too hard in school they are accused of thinking that they are better than the people they are surrounded by. This plagued the student who was ultimately killed in gang violence. It was almost unavoidable for him in Nyanga where there are 400-500 murders every year, many gang related. Others can’t break free of the cultural roles that are so ingrained in their culture. The girl who got pregnant was trapped in this way. She was told all her life that her purpose was to bear children and remain in the home and ultimately that cultural position caught up with her. So many people think that Matric will solve all of their problems, but they place too much faith in it. When they finally do get there, they realize that they are still in an environment with a 40% unemployment rate and many still cannot find jobs or make it in higher education. I have really witnessed these structural disadvantages in the mothers that come into Philani. They are trapped by their environment.
South Africa may say that education in colorblind, but by that they only mean they are blind to the huge discrepancies faced by different populations of different races. If they truly saw that schools in black communities have declined since Apartheid, then surely they would have done something about it.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Wealth and Poverty Are One
My busy week is done and so I finally have some time to write a blog entry. I’ll give you a little recap and then go into some of my thoughts and reflections from the week. On Wednesday night I got a chance to go see the world finals of the Red Bull Streetstyle competition which is a combination of soccer juggling and break dancing. It was located in downtown Cape Town at what will be the fan park for the World Cup when it is here. All I can say about the actual competition is that it was incredible. The guys competing really had some serious skill, mixing juggling while standing up, sitting down, lying down, and in a handstand, with all kinds of breakdancing moves and stalls. It was also very exciting because a South African made the final pairing so the crowd was going nuts. He ultimately lost because he had a bad round in the end. The guy who won was from Norway and he was also very good though. He won it because he performed a triple around the world. That means that he kicked the ball with his foot and then spun his foot around the ball 3 times before touching the ball again. It was absolutely insane.
On Thursday, we had a full day session of our service learning class with an organization called the CDRA. This is an NGO which seeks to provide consulting and assessment tools to other NGOs. They originally began to serve organizations around the Cape Town area, but they soon got requests from other locations and now operate to advise organizations worldwide. Our session with them was to discuss how development is defined and what it looks like practically. It allowed our class to engage with the ideas of what it means to be a white American working in these contexts and other philosophical issues inherent in the practice.
One of the things that we discussed at the CDRA has really stuck with me through the rest of this week. He made the point that wealth and poverty are one. One doesn’t exist without the other and both of them are problems. Both illustrate a way of living that is not how humans are meant to be. Our state, marketplace, and civil society are all built on the idea that the greatest use of human potential is for gaining wealth. Is that really the best use of human potential? If people act as if that is true, then poverty is created as those with more naturally take advantage of those with less. So often we talk about the problem of poverty, but very infrequently do we talk about the problem of wealth. I am not saying that people who have accumulated wealth because of their profession are necessarily the problem. I am trying to say however that keeping more than you really need is a part of the problem. Something I have really been learning here is that wealth doesn’t yield happiness. I have met many people through my time here who make very little money, often less that R200 a month (less than $30 USD), who are happy despite their condition. At the same time, they shouldn’t have to live like that when others have gained way more wealth than they need to survive. Ultimately you cannot separate both of these extremes. Wealth and poverty are one.
On Thursday, we had a full day session of our service learning class with an organization called the CDRA. This is an NGO which seeks to provide consulting and assessment tools to other NGOs. They originally began to serve organizations around the Cape Town area, but they soon got requests from other locations and now operate to advise organizations worldwide. Our session with them was to discuss how development is defined and what it looks like practically. It allowed our class to engage with the ideas of what it means to be a white American working in these contexts and other philosophical issues inherent in the practice.
One of the things that we discussed at the CDRA has really stuck with me through the rest of this week. He made the point that wealth and poverty are one. One doesn’t exist without the other and both of them are problems. Both illustrate a way of living that is not how humans are meant to be. Our state, marketplace, and civil society are all built on the idea that the greatest use of human potential is for gaining wealth. Is that really the best use of human potential? If people act as if that is true, then poverty is created as those with more naturally take advantage of those with less. So often we talk about the problem of poverty, but very infrequently do we talk about the problem of wealth. I am not saying that people who have accumulated wealth because of their profession are necessarily the problem. I am trying to say however that keeping more than you really need is a part of the problem. Something I have really been learning here is that wealth doesn’t yield happiness. I have met many people through my time here who make very little money, often less that R200 a month (less than $30 USD), who are happy despite their condition. At the same time, they shouldn’t have to live like that when others have gained way more wealth than they need to survive. Ultimately you cannot separate both of these extremes. Wealth and poverty are one.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
The News Update
So it has been a little while since I last wrote a blog entry. The middle of the quarter has hit and I had three papers to write this week so my recreational writing and interesting activities have both decreased a little bit. This will basically serve as a recap of what I’ve been doing while I wasn’t blogging!
Overall I have been doing a lot of hanging out in cafes using internet and writing my papers, but I did receive some great news on Monday night that some of you may already know, but I’ll mention it here for people who haven’t been following me on facebook. My summer plans have been fully funded by a Stanford grant and so I’ll definitely be in Tanzania doing research this summer! The big part is that Marlene will be there as well and we’ll be working on the same project! I think I mentioned some about the project in the very first entry I wrote on here, but I’ll describe the research again here.
Diarrheal disease is a huge problem and one of the leading causes of mortality in children under 5 throughout the developing world. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been much improvement in this area in the last twenty years in Tanzania. The larger project that we are working on is trying to use behavioral change interventions to try to get mothers of children under 5 to wash their hands as this can greatly reduce the incidence of diarrheal diseases. Marlene and I will be running focus groups to try to understand a little bit about why mothers don’t wash their hands even if they know that it can help prevent disease. I would be happy to send you more about it if you let me know and I’ll be blogging all summer too!
Last night, I went up Lion’s Head, which is one of the mountains surrounding the city of Cape Town, at sunset. When you get to the top you can see 360 degrees around Table Bay. We got up there pretty quickly and watched the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean (weird for anyone in the US?). It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and the views are something that simply cannot be captured on camera. I’ll try to post some pictures when I get more internet because I’m almost out of my allotted internet for the month.
I hope all of you are having a great week and I’ll post some more on the blog when I get done with this week of papers!
Overall I have been doing a lot of hanging out in cafes using internet and writing my papers, but I did receive some great news on Monday night that some of you may already know, but I’ll mention it here for people who haven’t been following me on facebook. My summer plans have been fully funded by a Stanford grant and so I’ll definitely be in Tanzania doing research this summer! The big part is that Marlene will be there as well and we’ll be working on the same project! I think I mentioned some about the project in the very first entry I wrote on here, but I’ll describe the research again here.
Diarrheal disease is a huge problem and one of the leading causes of mortality in children under 5 throughout the developing world. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been much improvement in this area in the last twenty years in Tanzania. The larger project that we are working on is trying to use behavioral change interventions to try to get mothers of children under 5 to wash their hands as this can greatly reduce the incidence of diarrheal diseases. Marlene and I will be running focus groups to try to understand a little bit about why mothers don’t wash their hands even if they know that it can help prevent disease. I would be happy to send you more about it if you let me know and I’ll be blogging all summer too!
Last night, I went up Lion’s Head, which is one of the mountains surrounding the city of Cape Town, at sunset. When you get to the top you can see 360 degrees around Table Bay. We got up there pretty quickly and watched the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean (weird for anyone in the US?). It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and the views are something that simply cannot be captured on camera. I’ll try to post some pictures when I get more internet because I’m almost out of my allotted internet for the month.
I hope all of you are having a great week and I’ll post some more on the blog when I get done with this week of papers!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
House Building in the Townships
Today I did something that was perhaps one of the most ethically challenging things I have done here. It wasn’t something that most Americans would have a problem with at all. I went into a township and helped build a house with an Irish nonprofit. People go on Habitat for Humanity building projects all the time in the United States. Being here was very different, but also very much the same. It has kind of reshaped my perceptions of even Habitat for Humanity building projects in the States. Before I get into my thoughts, I want to start at the beginning of my day.
When our bus arrived at the building company, we were one of the later groups there and were rushed in and given T shirts to wear. They pretty quickly began calling out teams and splitting us up. Our group was supposed to be split up and paired with other students from South Africa on the project. This worked out well for most people, but they had inadvertently crossed off my name and so I wasn’t placed in one of the teams with anyone from Stanford. I waited until the end when I went up to the front and was sent off with a group that included no one from the United States. This was definitely a blessing in disguise as I didn’t have the opportunity to stick with people I knew; I was forced to engage with people from different cultures.
My group was quite diverse. In it we had a family of adults who were coloured, several white South Africans, a group of Germans, as well as a small group of black women who actually live in Khayelitsha, the township I work in with Philani. I quickly made friends with the coloured family and one of the women from Khayelitsha. We spent the morning mixing lots of cement and carrying cement blocks to the building site while several skilled laborers placed the bricks. While we were working we had a bunch of interesting conversations with the other people in our group. I was talking with a coloured woman about how expensive the tickets for the World Cup are for South Africans. She said that she just couldn’t afford it. Though she has grown up in Cape Town, she hasn’t ever been to Robben Island or up to the top of Table Mountain because they are simply too expensive. I didn’t tell her that I had been to both of those places yesterday, but I definitely felt guilty about it. Here I am - just some rich American who can enjoy more of South Africa than locals simply because of financial reasons.
Our conversations wound between everything from what houses are like in the United States to relationships and favorite foods. It was fun to work with them for the day and get to know some people very who come from a much different background.
I had no problems with the people that I was with most of the day, but I definitely left questioning who this project is really about. We worked in the morning, stopped for lunch, and then for a little while in the afternoon as well. Both of the sessions were broken up by the directors bringing popsicles and candy around to the sites which caused everyone to stop working for a period of 15 minutes while we ate. In addition, it seemed like our large groups were actually slowing down the house-building. When we asked how long it normally took just the workers themselves to put up the houses, they told us that they could do one house in a day. Despite all of our efforts, we put up only about half of the house. Every time that one of the actual workers would take over one of the tasks we were doing, it would be done twice as quickly. When we left, we were required to take all of the tools from the building company leaving the workers (who didn’t leave when we did) with no tools to continue working on the house. We left a shovel with our group just because it didn’t seem fair to leave them with nothing, especially if they are being paid by the house-building company. Overall, it felt like this homebuilding project was being marketed for us, the homebuilders, and not for the community. One of the other people in our group was talking with one of the Xhosa speaking members of his group who overheard groups of people from the local community along the roads we walked on to the houses talking about us. He said that they didn’t understand why we were here and thought that we should go back where we came from. It didn’t seem like the organization really had much good contact with the community. It was mostly a group led from the top down with the mentality that ‘we are doing something good for you so you should just like us’ instead of actually allowing the community to be part of the work. On top of all my other frustrations, there was a fee charged for volunteers to work on the houses. Stanford paid for our work and got a discounted rate, but the charge is usually R1000 per person which is almost $150. To me, this seems like a scheme to raise money through volunteers for the purpose of executing a project which is not well accepted by the community.
Experiences like this really make you contemplate what it is really like to be a part of development work. Yes people in this community do need new houses, but is this really the right way to do it? I don’t think it is. What about the developmental tourism that I engaged in today? I don’t think that is the right way to do it either. You cannot just show up for a short period of time and expect to understand what the community really wants and needs. It is unrealistic to think that what I did today actually made a difference. The houses would have gone up just as quickly if I was not there. This experience today was about me, not about building a house or helping this community. Is a Habitat for Humanity build any different? Can someone with no real construction expertise hope to actually make a difference on the project and in the lives of a community?
When our bus arrived at the building company, we were one of the later groups there and were rushed in and given T shirts to wear. They pretty quickly began calling out teams and splitting us up. Our group was supposed to be split up and paired with other students from South Africa on the project. This worked out well for most people, but they had inadvertently crossed off my name and so I wasn’t placed in one of the teams with anyone from Stanford. I waited until the end when I went up to the front and was sent off with a group that included no one from the United States. This was definitely a blessing in disguise as I didn’t have the opportunity to stick with people I knew; I was forced to engage with people from different cultures.
My group was quite diverse. In it we had a family of adults who were coloured, several white South Africans, a group of Germans, as well as a small group of black women who actually live in Khayelitsha, the township I work in with Philani. I quickly made friends with the coloured family and one of the women from Khayelitsha. We spent the morning mixing lots of cement and carrying cement blocks to the building site while several skilled laborers placed the bricks. While we were working we had a bunch of interesting conversations with the other people in our group. I was talking with a coloured woman about how expensive the tickets for the World Cup are for South Africans. She said that she just couldn’t afford it. Though she has grown up in Cape Town, she hasn’t ever been to Robben Island or up to the top of Table Mountain because they are simply too expensive. I didn’t tell her that I had been to both of those places yesterday, but I definitely felt guilty about it. Here I am - just some rich American who can enjoy more of South Africa than locals simply because of financial reasons.
Our conversations wound between everything from what houses are like in the United States to relationships and favorite foods. It was fun to work with them for the day and get to know some people very who come from a much different background.
I had no problems with the people that I was with most of the day, but I definitely left questioning who this project is really about. We worked in the morning, stopped for lunch, and then for a little while in the afternoon as well. Both of the sessions were broken up by the directors bringing popsicles and candy around to the sites which caused everyone to stop working for a period of 15 minutes while we ate. In addition, it seemed like our large groups were actually slowing down the house-building. When we asked how long it normally took just the workers themselves to put up the houses, they told us that they could do one house in a day. Despite all of our efforts, we put up only about half of the house. Every time that one of the actual workers would take over one of the tasks we were doing, it would be done twice as quickly. When we left, we were required to take all of the tools from the building company leaving the workers (who didn’t leave when we did) with no tools to continue working on the house. We left a shovel with our group just because it didn’t seem fair to leave them with nothing, especially if they are being paid by the house-building company. Overall, it felt like this homebuilding project was being marketed for us, the homebuilders, and not for the community. One of the other people in our group was talking with one of the Xhosa speaking members of his group who overheard groups of people from the local community along the roads we walked on to the houses talking about us. He said that they didn’t understand why we were here and thought that we should go back where we came from. It didn’t seem like the organization really had much good contact with the community. It was mostly a group led from the top down with the mentality that ‘we are doing something good for you so you should just like us’ instead of actually allowing the community to be part of the work. On top of all my other frustrations, there was a fee charged for volunteers to work on the houses. Stanford paid for our work and got a discounted rate, but the charge is usually R1000 per person which is almost $150. To me, this seems like a scheme to raise money through volunteers for the purpose of executing a project which is not well accepted by the community.
Experiences like this really make you contemplate what it is really like to be a part of development work. Yes people in this community do need new houses, but is this really the right way to do it? I don’t think it is. What about the developmental tourism that I engaged in today? I don’t think that is the right way to do it either. You cannot just show up for a short period of time and expect to understand what the community really wants and needs. It is unrealistic to think that what I did today actually made a difference. The houses would have gone up just as quickly if I was not there. This experience today was about me, not about building a house or helping this community. Is a Habitat for Humanity build any different? Can someone with no real construction expertise hope to actually make a difference on the project and in the lives of a community?
Friday, April 23, 2010
Robben Island and Mexican Food in Africa
Wow it has been quite awhile since I last wrote a blog entry. I tried to write one a couple of days ago and I got distracted and didn’t finish it. As such, I’ve decided to try to get back to writing a little bit after such a whirlwind of a week.
Today we traveled as a group to Robben Island just off the coast of Cape Town. This is where Nelson Mandela was held captive for almost 20 years as a political prisoner before the end of Apartheid. It was an interesting tour, but something about it felt extremely commercialized. We went to the island on this yacht with flat screen TVs showing something much like an airplane safety video and then a short documentary. When we arrived, we were shuttled onto buses for a tour of the island with a tour guide before we were allowed to take a walking tour led by a former political prisoner who had been imprisoned there. I think I was particularly upset by what had been done to the prison itself. All the walls inside were whitewashed and the only cell with anything inside it was Mandela’s former cell where items were neatly folded. It looked sterile, nothing like I imagined it when reading Mandela’s autobiography. It just seemed so disconnected from what the prison must have been like.
The former inmate who was leading us through the prison was a really interesting person to talk with. We talked with him for a little while after the end of the tour and almost missed the ferry back! His memories of this place were very vivid to him. It seemed like there was always more than what he was telling us. It was interesting to think about him in this job of reliving those times of his life every day. Many of the former prisoners who work there were basically forced to work there. Though they would have a hard time finding work elsewhere because of the 40% unemployment in the greater Cape Town area, it seems to unfair to force him into a place that had such bad memories. In a way, he is still imprisoned here by his job.
After leaving the island we took the cable car up Table Mountain. The views were incredible and no photo could possibly do them justice. Despite being a very warm day in town, the top of the mountain was cold and windy and so we didn’t spend too much time up on top.
Back in Obs we went to what we have been told is the best Mexican restaurant in the Cape Town area. Though you can’t quite call it actual Mexican food, it was very good. The burritos were very square and looked almost identical to the enchilada, just in a different shape. The ‘flautas’ were also interesting because it was basically one ‘flauta’ in the same shape as the burrito. We had two Mexican girls from our program at the meal and they were surprised when the waiter didn’t understand the correct pronunciation of arroz con pollo. I’m pretty sure that there were no Mexicans working in that restaurant, but the food was good and very filling! I would definitely go back.
Today we traveled as a group to Robben Island just off the coast of Cape Town. This is where Nelson Mandela was held captive for almost 20 years as a political prisoner before the end of Apartheid. It was an interesting tour, but something about it felt extremely commercialized. We went to the island on this yacht with flat screen TVs showing something much like an airplane safety video and then a short documentary. When we arrived, we were shuttled onto buses for a tour of the island with a tour guide before we were allowed to take a walking tour led by a former political prisoner who had been imprisoned there. I think I was particularly upset by what had been done to the prison itself. All the walls inside were whitewashed and the only cell with anything inside it was Mandela’s former cell where items were neatly folded. It looked sterile, nothing like I imagined it when reading Mandela’s autobiography. It just seemed so disconnected from what the prison must have been like.
The former inmate who was leading us through the prison was a really interesting person to talk with. We talked with him for a little while after the end of the tour and almost missed the ferry back! His memories of this place were very vivid to him. It seemed like there was always more than what he was telling us. It was interesting to think about him in this job of reliving those times of his life every day. Many of the former prisoners who work there were basically forced to work there. Though they would have a hard time finding work elsewhere because of the 40% unemployment in the greater Cape Town area, it seems to unfair to force him into a place that had such bad memories. In a way, he is still imprisoned here by his job.
After leaving the island we took the cable car up Table Mountain. The views were incredible and no photo could possibly do them justice. Despite being a very warm day in town, the top of the mountain was cold and windy and so we didn’t spend too much time up on top.
Back in Obs we went to what we have been told is the best Mexican restaurant in the Cape Town area. Though you can’t quite call it actual Mexican food, it was very good. The burritos were very square and looked almost identical to the enchilada, just in a different shape. The ‘flautas’ were also interesting because it was basically one ‘flauta’ in the same shape as the burrito. We had two Mexican girls from our program at the meal and they were surprised when the waiter didn’t understand the correct pronunciation of arroz con pollo. I’m pretty sure that there were no Mexicans working in that restaurant, but the food was good and very filling! I would definitely go back.
Monday, April 19, 2010
A New Direction and a Discussion
As I will come to do at the beginning of every week, I went with my AIDS class to the township of Dunoon this morning to for the field work portion of the course. It looks like we finally have some direction for the project we will be doing there. Our work will be to set up a database based on a map of where patients are located. To do this, we will be going out in the community to all of the patients’ houses and making sure that we have correct information about them. This will allow us to locate them all on the map and look at how they are divided among home based care workers. Right now the patient database is out of date and there is no easy way to add people to the program. As a result, the specific patients which are seen by the community health workers aren’t always recorded accurately for the NGO’s records. Our work will hopefully help them keep track of the patients and their respective workers and allow for easier admission of new patients.
After returning from Dunoon, the class went to a cafe to debrief the fieldwork and for the classroom portion of the course. Our discussion focused on why people do acts of service for others. We focused particularly on defining the term compassion and whether it holds weight as a concept. Through our discussion, we seemed to break it down into two main sides of thought. One side thought that there was a moral obligation of members of society to serve those around them. That is to say that everyone ‘should’ serve others through acts of ‘compassion.’ The other side disagreed with that argument on the premise that not everyone – such as those with mental issues such as PTSD or developmental differences has the actual capacity to be empathetic. It is unrealistic then to say that everyone should do something when some are biologically unable to do so. They argued instead that people perform acts of ‘compassion’ for some benefit to self or their community, whether that is their immediate family or their city or even their country. It is natural to feel good after you have provided an act of service to another. One of their big questions is why often the religious community has gone overseas to build orphanages despite the common knowledge that children who grow up in an orphanage lag behind in virtually every aspect of society. Their point was that this provides a nice pretty picture of an orphanage with cute kids to take pictures of and makes everyone in the religious community feel good, even though it doesn’t really help the situation.
The discussion we had in class really stuck with me all afternoon because it has really profound implications for my life goals of working in and NGO meeting the medical needs of an underdeveloped community. It was really interesting that we had this conversation today because just yesterday I was listening to a sermon called “Justice” by Timothy Keller (you can find it on Itunes podcasts) about the how Christians are meant to live a life of service. I had already been wrestling with these things for a day and so this just added more thoughts to my head. I think I definitely believe that there is a moral obligation for service. There is just something inside me that repeatedly says that service can’t be just selfish. There is definitely something deeper than a desire to get the brief moment of joy from serving someone else. Though I think this is a definite reality and oftentimes people do service for this reason or others like it, I tend to believe that there is such a thing as compassion that springs up out of a moral imperative. Though religious communities may be partially doing their work in building orphanages for the moment of joy they experience, I think it is highly improbable that all such actions are simply for this selfish reason. I suspect that many of them are just not informed and though their desire for action may come out of a sense of moral obligation, their actions may not be the best for the community they seek to serve. It is harder to deal with the case of PTSD and other patients with mental disabilities because they biologically can’t empathize. I think my answer to this is based on my idea that though there is a set moral obligation that we are meant to fulfill and God judges according to that standard, there was another way provided by the person of Jesus. I believe that Jesus bore the inadequacies and wrongdoing of the world in his death so that we can be restored. All of us will ultimately fall short of the moral obligation we are called to uphold, but the person of Jesus erases that failure to live up to standards unattainable by humans requiring simply that we seek to live like he lived. Our honest convictions in our core are what matter and these are ultimately expressed in our behavior. This is what is required and as a result, people with PTSD are not judged on the ability to meet a moral standard they are unable to meet, but are judged based on their own condition and their efforts to change their condition to more closely reflect the life of Jesus.
It is ultimately impossible to try to argue for a moral obligation without invoking a particular view of it, but I also think there is a really powerful concrete example that supports it. There are people who show for a small time what it means to really act out of moral obligation and not for any kind of selfish gain. During the Holocaust, people in Europe who sheltered Jews in their homes risked everything. If they were caught they were likely to be sent to concentration camps to be killed along with those in their families. These people risked their whole world – all that they have and all of their loved ones – for others. There is no personal benefit. People who sheltered Jews personally disadvantaged themselves for the sake of others with no expectation of a return. How can this not be done out of a moral imperative?
After returning from Dunoon, the class went to a cafe to debrief the fieldwork and for the classroom portion of the course. Our discussion focused on why people do acts of service for others. We focused particularly on defining the term compassion and whether it holds weight as a concept. Through our discussion, we seemed to break it down into two main sides of thought. One side thought that there was a moral obligation of members of society to serve those around them. That is to say that everyone ‘should’ serve others through acts of ‘compassion.’ The other side disagreed with that argument on the premise that not everyone – such as those with mental issues such as PTSD or developmental differences has the actual capacity to be empathetic. It is unrealistic then to say that everyone should do something when some are biologically unable to do so. They argued instead that people perform acts of ‘compassion’ for some benefit to self or their community, whether that is their immediate family or their city or even their country. It is natural to feel good after you have provided an act of service to another. One of their big questions is why often the religious community has gone overseas to build orphanages despite the common knowledge that children who grow up in an orphanage lag behind in virtually every aspect of society. Their point was that this provides a nice pretty picture of an orphanage with cute kids to take pictures of and makes everyone in the religious community feel good, even though it doesn’t really help the situation.
The discussion we had in class really stuck with me all afternoon because it has really profound implications for my life goals of working in and NGO meeting the medical needs of an underdeveloped community. It was really interesting that we had this conversation today because just yesterday I was listening to a sermon called “Justice” by Timothy Keller (you can find it on Itunes podcasts) about the how Christians are meant to live a life of service. I had already been wrestling with these things for a day and so this just added more thoughts to my head. I think I definitely believe that there is a moral obligation for service. There is just something inside me that repeatedly says that service can’t be just selfish. There is definitely something deeper than a desire to get the brief moment of joy from serving someone else. Though I think this is a definite reality and oftentimes people do service for this reason or others like it, I tend to believe that there is such a thing as compassion that springs up out of a moral imperative. Though religious communities may be partially doing their work in building orphanages for the moment of joy they experience, I think it is highly improbable that all such actions are simply for this selfish reason. I suspect that many of them are just not informed and though their desire for action may come out of a sense of moral obligation, their actions may not be the best for the community they seek to serve. It is harder to deal with the case of PTSD and other patients with mental disabilities because they biologically can’t empathize. I think my answer to this is based on my idea that though there is a set moral obligation that we are meant to fulfill and God judges according to that standard, there was another way provided by the person of Jesus. I believe that Jesus bore the inadequacies and wrongdoing of the world in his death so that we can be restored. All of us will ultimately fall short of the moral obligation we are called to uphold, but the person of Jesus erases that failure to live up to standards unattainable by humans requiring simply that we seek to live like he lived. Our honest convictions in our core are what matter and these are ultimately expressed in our behavior. This is what is required and as a result, people with PTSD are not judged on the ability to meet a moral standard they are unable to meet, but are judged based on their own condition and their efforts to change their condition to more closely reflect the life of Jesus.
It is ultimately impossible to try to argue for a moral obligation without invoking a particular view of it, but I also think there is a really powerful concrete example that supports it. There are people who show for a small time what it means to really act out of moral obligation and not for any kind of selfish gain. During the Holocaust, people in Europe who sheltered Jews in their homes risked everything. If they were caught they were likely to be sent to concentration camps to be killed along with those in their families. These people risked their whole world – all that they have and all of their loved ones – for others. There is no personal benefit. People who sheltered Jews personally disadvantaged themselves for the sake of others with no expectation of a return. How can this not be done out of a moral imperative?
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Mzoli’s Meat
A group of us traveled to Guguletu this afternoon to visit a relatively well-known establishment called Mzoli’s Meats. It’s a restaurant of sorts in the township which attracts both tourists and locals from all around Cape Town. As you walk in, you are asked to purchase meat by the kilogram which you then bring to a group of people cooking the meat over wood fires. The room was pretty dark and unventilated, so there was just smoke all around. After you have dropped off your meat to have it cooked, you wait outside under a large group of pop-up tents outside. There was a DJ playing music and everyone went to the shops nearby to get drinks for their meal. After waiting for almost an hour for our meat to cook, we started eating. There were no utensils, so either your hands or a piece of bread served as eating implements. It was probably some of the best food I’ve had so far in my time here. The meat was cooked perfectly and it was seasoned with a spicy sauce that really brought out the flavor of the meat. It was excellent.
After our meal, we decided to start dancing out next to the DJ station. Our whole group just basically started a dance party. We were quickly joined by a bunch of Africans of all ages. One woman was 60 years old! We spent the next several hours just dancing with a bunch of Africans in Guguletu. I don’t know if I have had an experience more fun than that. It was so good to actually be able to socialize with Africans in their community. I think I will definitely have to go back there because this was such a display of how the community interacts. It was so much fun.
After our meal, we decided to start dancing out next to the DJ station. Our whole group just basically started a dance party. We were quickly joined by a bunch of Africans of all ages. One woman was 60 years old! We spent the next several hours just dancing with a bunch of Africans in Guguletu. I don’t know if I have had an experience more fun than that. It was so good to actually be able to socialize with Africans in their community. I think I will definitely have to go back there because this was such a display of how the community interacts. It was so much fun.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Tour of the Peninsula and Pictures!
Today the whole group went for another tour of the area surrounding Cape Town. This time we explored the peninsula coastlines all the way to Cape Point. I’ll try to explain it, but I think the best way to describe what I saw was through pictures so I’m going to post them on Picasa again, though in lower quality as I have limited internet. You can find the link here.
During our travels, we went from Observatory through Camp’s Bay, to Hout Bay. Then we crossed over and drove to Kalk Bay. We passed Muizenburg, Fish hoek, and Simonstown on our way to Cape Point. On the way back we stopped in Simonstown to see the penguin colony there! That’s the very short itinerary.
One of our key stops was in Kalk Bay where we ate at this restaurant right on the waterfront. The eating area we were sitting in was actually out on the water a little bit and waves could come crashing almost up to the building. It was such a nice view. Because I was on the coast, I decided that I should eat seafood and I had tiger queen prawns. The lemon butter they had with them was incredible and I was so full afterwards. Not too full to have some gelato for dessert though! I had a mix of chocolate and Amarula, which is made from a type of berry here. It is also made into a pretty sweet liqueur that is traditionally served after fancy meals in South Africa.
We also stopped at Cape Point as well which was a beautiful view. We hiked almost all the way to the end and had to stop because the trail was closed. We could see the end though so I think that must count for something. On our way back we stopped at Boulder Beach to visit the penguin colony. It was mating season so most of the penguins were paired off with one of the couple lying over the egg on the ground and the other protecting the young. We even got to see one of the babies! There were no fences and we could basically just walk right up to the penguins. Don’t worry, there’s a picture in the post about it!
During our travels, we went from Observatory through Camp’s Bay, to Hout Bay. Then we crossed over and drove to Kalk Bay. We passed Muizenburg, Fish hoek, and Simonstown on our way to Cape Point. On the way back we stopped in Simonstown to see the penguin colony there! That’s the very short itinerary.
One of our key stops was in Kalk Bay where we ate at this restaurant right on the waterfront. The eating area we were sitting in was actually out on the water a little bit and waves could come crashing almost up to the building. It was such a nice view. Because I was on the coast, I decided that I should eat seafood and I had tiger queen prawns. The lemon butter they had with them was incredible and I was so full afterwards. Not too full to have some gelato for dessert though! I had a mix of chocolate and Amarula, which is made from a type of berry here. It is also made into a pretty sweet liqueur that is traditionally served after fancy meals in South Africa.
We also stopped at Cape Point as well which was a beautiful view. We hiked almost all the way to the end and had to stop because the trail was closed. We could see the end though so I think that must count for something. On our way back we stopped at Boulder Beach to visit the penguin colony. It was mating season so most of the penguins were paired off with one of the couple lying over the egg on the ground and the other protecting the young. We even got to see one of the babies! There were no fences and we could basically just walk right up to the penguins. Don’t worry, there’s a picture in the post about it!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Nobody Wants Her Except the Dogs
Tonight I went to a play entitled “The Train Driver” which was written and directed by Athol Fugard. It was based on a news story from Cape Town several years ago that told an awful story and one that is all too common. A mother with a child on her back committed suicide by walking in front of a train. The driver of the train was traumatized, but the worst part of the story was a simple line that stated that no one had claimed the body. The play followed the train driver who was seeking out the grave of the woman and her child in order to find peace after the accident. He spends a lot of time interacting with the gravedigger of the no-name graves. One of my favorite sections came from near the end of the play:
"Wouldn't you also want to go and stand on a railway line and wait for the next train if that is all life had to offer you and your baby? And then to make it worse... she ends up here... in one of your ingiwabas (no-name graveyards) or whatever you call them. And why?.. Because that is still not the end.. Because the big happy ending is that Nobody Wants Her! ... Except the dogs. Remember what it said? Nobody came to claim her! Nobody wants her! And when we start looking... even we can't find her."
This passage really hit home for me. It reminded me of the enormity of the problem that is faced by those in the townships around Cape Town. The woman is just one of a million others struggling to make it. Struggling because they have no hope. Every person in those towns is facing hardships just because they were born into a region filled with poverty. I can’t help but think of some of the women I met at the Philani clinic on Tuesday who either had no income or one that is very limited and must be used to take care of far more people than it can adequately feed. What can you do in that situation? How can you be expected to pull yourself out of poverty when there are no jobs, limited income at the jobs that are available, and no support? Wouldn’t you lose hope too in that situation? I think it is great that there are organizations like Philani that are really working to make a difference in these communities, but the problems are just so big. Even the combination of all the NGO’s and government work in these cities makes just a small dent in the scope of the issues faced by these communities every day. How do we keep from losing hope in front of a seemingly insurmountable problem? How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them that there is hope for them? I think the way most people get by this is on the premise that if they make a difference in one or two lives, then that is enough. I agree with that most of the time, but tonight I feel like dwelling on the larger picture. Though it is overwhelming, it is important to see. I hope when you read the lines of that play that your heart just breaks as much as mine does. I pray that we can find people like her and that we can help restore her hope when we do.
"Wouldn't you also want to go and stand on a railway line and wait for the next train if that is all life had to offer you and your baby? And then to make it worse... she ends up here... in one of your ingiwabas (no-name graveyards) or whatever you call them. And why?.. Because that is still not the end.. Because the big happy ending is that Nobody Wants Her! ... Except the dogs. Remember what it said? Nobody came to claim her! Nobody wants her! And when we start looking... even we can't find her."
This passage really hit home for me. It reminded me of the enormity of the problem that is faced by those in the townships around Cape Town. The woman is just one of a million others struggling to make it. Struggling because they have no hope. Every person in those towns is facing hardships just because they were born into a region filled with poverty. I can’t help but think of some of the women I met at the Philani clinic on Tuesday who either had no income or one that is very limited and must be used to take care of far more people than it can adequately feed. What can you do in that situation? How can you be expected to pull yourself out of poverty when there are no jobs, limited income at the jobs that are available, and no support? Wouldn’t you lose hope too in that situation? I think it is great that there are organizations like Philani that are really working to make a difference in these communities, but the problems are just so big. Even the combination of all the NGO’s and government work in these cities makes just a small dent in the scope of the issues faced by these communities every day. How do we keep from losing hope in front of a seemingly insurmountable problem? How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them that there is hope for them? I think the way most people get by this is on the premise that if they make a difference in one or two lives, then that is enough. I agree with that most of the time, but tonight I feel like dwelling on the larger picture. Though it is overwhelming, it is important to see. I hope when you read the lines of that play that your heart just breaks as much as mine does. I pray that we can find people like her and that we can help restore her hope when we do.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Clinic Tour of the Townships
Today was jam packed full of activities. I was out of my room from 8 am until 6 pm working and as a result I’m pretty tired, but I wanted to make sure to update all of you on what happened today because some of it was very exciting.
I left the house at 8 am to go to my service learning placement with Philani. I got into their main office in Khayelitsha early so that I could be picked up and transported to several of their clinics to assist the doctor, dietician, and community health workers. It turns out that there are actually two clinics running on Tuesdays in two different townships. We first ran a clinic in Crossroads and then moved to Phillipi. Both of them are near the Nyanga township which I have been to before. I’m really getting my way around the townships lately and I’m excited that I’m getting so much exposure to all of them. So now it looks like I’ll be going to Dunoon on Mondays, Crossroads and Phillipi on Tuesdays, and then Khayelitsha on Thursdays. Though I do wish I could get a little more immersed in one of the communities, I really think that this is also a good alternative because I’ll gain exposure to a variety of different experiences. One good thing is that they are all black townships and thus share a certain amount in common with each other.
We got picked up from Philani’s Khayelitsha office by the dietician who we would travel with throughout the day. She has been working with both Philani and another organization in the area on similar outreach programs over the past 2 years and I think she is going to be a great resource to draw upon for knowledge of living situation faced by the mothers and children that come to the clinics. Once we got to Crossroads, a fellow student and I got a crash course in our duties for the day. We were responsible for recording the weights of all the children coming into the clinic and plotting them in each of their files in preparation for seeing the doctor. After they had seen the doctor, we were responsible for distributing the proper type of formula or food to the mothers for their children and making sure that they knew when to return to the doctor. I was very impressed with the record keeping of the organization and of the individual mothers. Every child had its own folder at the center and the mothers had a form that they brought with them detailing their child’s growth and any medical aid they received. For the most part these were very up to date and very useful to the doctor in seeing if the child was healthy.
One of the really cool aspects of my time in the clinic this morning was actually getting to shadow the doctor for a portion of the day. When we were in Crossroads, I got to shadow the doctor while the other student performed the necessary administrative duties. In Phillipi, we switched roles. It was really interesting to see and hear how the doctor-patient interaction actually works in South Africa. And I even got to listen to a few children’s lungs! Most of the kids had problems with getting good enough nutrients and almost every mother walked out with vitamin supplements for her child. I was really surprised by the number of HIV positive children that passed through the clinic. I would say that more than 50% of the children were HIV positive or had a mother who was HIV positive. On top of that, it seemed like a comparable number of them had someone with TB living in their household or they themselves had the disease. South Africa is really struggling with both of these diseases and my experience in the clinic today really reinforced the magnitude of the problem here. Several of the children also had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and it was apparent that drinking was also a major problem in the community. The last two children we saw in Crossroads were a particularly sad story. They were siblings who were being cared for by a mother who didn’t put them as a high enough priority. I was told by the doctor after she had left that she had urged the mother to get her children immunized. The mother “never got around to it” and as a result her children were both suffering from relatively severe illnesses. One of them had meningitis which had been treated, but then the mother hadn’t followed up with the clinic and as a result the child was not completely recovering. The other child had a respiratory condition that needed to be treated, but the right medicine wasn’t available at our clinic. Despite these severe conditions, the mother had not taken her children to the clinic in Crossroads. She is unemployed and takes care of her children through a government grant. Instead of seeking work, she is spending time with her friends drinking and not taking care of her children.
I was absolutely stunned by this story. There is so much I want to do, but not much that I can actually practically do. We did what we could in providing what medicine we could and the food and formula they needed, but beyond that there isn’t much we can do. This story also highlights the state of almost every mother I saw in the clinic today. Most of them are supporting their children on government grants, but are otherwise unemployed. This means that the families are living on R500 a month which is equivalent to about 70 USD. That’s all they get in a month to support the mother, a child or two, and possibly some other family members. I could easily spend that in a week. The poverty in the clinic was heartbreaking. Many of the mothers were different from this last mother and they truly wanted to care for their children in the best way possible. One mother in particular stood out from the rest. Her first born child who I met in the clinic today has cerebral palsy. Obviously it is hard enough to raise a child in this town, but raising a disabled child is even harder in these communities. Her child was initially born with low birth weight, but has since really rebounded and is returning to a normal growth curve. This mother is really making the best of her situation for the benefit of her son. Despite his disability, she is pouring herself out for her child.
We returned from the clinics at around 4 pm, just in time for my archeology class back in Observatory. I’m excited to do this every Tuesday. I think it will give me a real picture of what it is like to practice medicine here and hopefully give me a sense of direction in my future career path. At the same time, I also hope that I can help out with the best that I can offer and really help make a difference in the lives of these children and mothers.
Tim
I left the house at 8 am to go to my service learning placement with Philani. I got into their main office in Khayelitsha early so that I could be picked up and transported to several of their clinics to assist the doctor, dietician, and community health workers. It turns out that there are actually two clinics running on Tuesdays in two different townships. We first ran a clinic in Crossroads and then moved to Phillipi. Both of them are near the Nyanga township which I have been to before. I’m really getting my way around the townships lately and I’m excited that I’m getting so much exposure to all of them. So now it looks like I’ll be going to Dunoon on Mondays, Crossroads and Phillipi on Tuesdays, and then Khayelitsha on Thursdays. Though I do wish I could get a little more immersed in one of the communities, I really think that this is also a good alternative because I’ll gain exposure to a variety of different experiences. One good thing is that they are all black townships and thus share a certain amount in common with each other.
We got picked up from Philani’s Khayelitsha office by the dietician who we would travel with throughout the day. She has been working with both Philani and another organization in the area on similar outreach programs over the past 2 years and I think she is going to be a great resource to draw upon for knowledge of living situation faced by the mothers and children that come to the clinics. Once we got to Crossroads, a fellow student and I got a crash course in our duties for the day. We were responsible for recording the weights of all the children coming into the clinic and plotting them in each of their files in preparation for seeing the doctor. After they had seen the doctor, we were responsible for distributing the proper type of formula or food to the mothers for their children and making sure that they knew when to return to the doctor. I was very impressed with the record keeping of the organization and of the individual mothers. Every child had its own folder at the center and the mothers had a form that they brought with them detailing their child’s growth and any medical aid they received. For the most part these were very up to date and very useful to the doctor in seeing if the child was healthy.
One of the really cool aspects of my time in the clinic this morning was actually getting to shadow the doctor for a portion of the day. When we were in Crossroads, I got to shadow the doctor while the other student performed the necessary administrative duties. In Phillipi, we switched roles. It was really interesting to see and hear how the doctor-patient interaction actually works in South Africa. And I even got to listen to a few children’s lungs! Most of the kids had problems with getting good enough nutrients and almost every mother walked out with vitamin supplements for her child. I was really surprised by the number of HIV positive children that passed through the clinic. I would say that more than 50% of the children were HIV positive or had a mother who was HIV positive. On top of that, it seemed like a comparable number of them had someone with TB living in their household or they themselves had the disease. South Africa is really struggling with both of these diseases and my experience in the clinic today really reinforced the magnitude of the problem here. Several of the children also had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and it was apparent that drinking was also a major problem in the community. The last two children we saw in Crossroads were a particularly sad story. They were siblings who were being cared for by a mother who didn’t put them as a high enough priority. I was told by the doctor after she had left that she had urged the mother to get her children immunized. The mother “never got around to it” and as a result her children were both suffering from relatively severe illnesses. One of them had meningitis which had been treated, but then the mother hadn’t followed up with the clinic and as a result the child was not completely recovering. The other child had a respiratory condition that needed to be treated, but the right medicine wasn’t available at our clinic. Despite these severe conditions, the mother had not taken her children to the clinic in Crossroads. She is unemployed and takes care of her children through a government grant. Instead of seeking work, she is spending time with her friends drinking and not taking care of her children.
I was absolutely stunned by this story. There is so much I want to do, but not much that I can actually practically do. We did what we could in providing what medicine we could and the food and formula they needed, but beyond that there isn’t much we can do. This story also highlights the state of almost every mother I saw in the clinic today. Most of them are supporting their children on government grants, but are otherwise unemployed. This means that the families are living on R500 a month which is equivalent to about 70 USD. That’s all they get in a month to support the mother, a child or two, and possibly some other family members. I could easily spend that in a week. The poverty in the clinic was heartbreaking. Many of the mothers were different from this last mother and they truly wanted to care for their children in the best way possible. One mother in particular stood out from the rest. Her first born child who I met in the clinic today has cerebral palsy. Obviously it is hard enough to raise a child in this town, but raising a disabled child is even harder in these communities. Her child was initially born with low birth weight, but has since really rebounded and is returning to a normal growth curve. This mother is really making the best of her situation for the benefit of her son. Despite his disability, she is pouring herself out for her child.
We returned from the clinics at around 4 pm, just in time for my archeology class back in Observatory. I’m excited to do this every Tuesday. I think it will give me a real picture of what it is like to practice medicine here and hopefully give me a sense of direction in my future career path. At the same time, I also hope that I can help out with the best that I can offer and really help make a difference in the lives of these children and mothers.
Tim
Monday, April 12, 2010
Back to the Class Routine
Today was a beautiful day in Cape Town. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the temperature was around 80 degrees. If this is fall in Cape Town then count me in! Overall the weather has been great, though we’re supposed to be getting more rain as winter approaches here. No sign of that yet…
I only had one commitment all day today, so there isn’t much to write about. The class I’m taking on the AIDS epidemic’s impact on vulnerable populations met officially for the first time today. We took a bus into the township of Dunoon this morning to start off the class. Dunoon is a relatively new township, having been formed in 1996 which is after the end of Apartheid. It was formed mostly because of the influx of rural populations to Cape Town in search of jobs. It looked very similar to most of the other townships I’ve seen so far. As a part of the course, we are going to be working with a non-profit which is funded by both the government of South Africa and Chevron to provide home-based care to the communities. Our time with them was mostly an introduction and a chance for us to ask questions about what they do and how we can help. The organization was run entirely by Africans from the community of Dunoon. Six women had started the organization and gotten it organized. They began using volunteers to cook food and bring it to sick individuals in their community. From there they expanded to include not just food delivery, but also provision of basic home care services and became linked with a government program. Currently Chevron has funded the construction of a new building with a kitchen for them which we saw today.
It was really interesting to hear what some of the nonprofit staff members were saying about their organization and also to observe what was really happening. We had been recruited to this project previously because it appeared that the work was not being conducted adequately and wasn’t being recorded very well. We knew coming in that there were some issues that needed to be resolved. Our job is to figure out what those issues actually are and respond to them. Because I was looking for problems and areas that needed to be fixed, I saw a lot more than I would have otherwise. For example, we were told by one of the staff members that community health workers go between their 10 patients between 9 am and noon every day. Today we happened to be there from around 9:30 until noon. During that time, we saw several of these home-based care workers who were just sitting in the office. Some of them never left the office during that whole time. Obviously they weren’t actually visiting the houses that day, but why not? That is the real question. Some of them looked extremely tired and worn out. Is there something going on in their own home that is limiting their ability to go out and care for others? These are the questions that need to be asked and I’m excited that this class is going to give me a chance to ask those questions and learn what it really means to run a community based care program in a place where even your workers have struggles you may not understand.
After returning from Dunoon, we had a discussion section of the class and talked about what we had observed before moving into a more lecture based format of the course. I’m excited to see where these ten weeks take me in this course as well as the others I’m in. Tomorrow I’ll be at Philani for most of the day working in their remote clinic. I’ll let you know what my experience is like tomorrow!
Tim
I only had one commitment all day today, so there isn’t much to write about. The class I’m taking on the AIDS epidemic’s impact on vulnerable populations met officially for the first time today. We took a bus into the township of Dunoon this morning to start off the class. Dunoon is a relatively new township, having been formed in 1996 which is after the end of Apartheid. It was formed mostly because of the influx of rural populations to Cape Town in search of jobs. It looked very similar to most of the other townships I’ve seen so far. As a part of the course, we are going to be working with a non-profit which is funded by both the government of South Africa and Chevron to provide home-based care to the communities. Our time with them was mostly an introduction and a chance for us to ask questions about what they do and how we can help. The organization was run entirely by Africans from the community of Dunoon. Six women had started the organization and gotten it organized. They began using volunteers to cook food and bring it to sick individuals in their community. From there they expanded to include not just food delivery, but also provision of basic home care services and became linked with a government program. Currently Chevron has funded the construction of a new building with a kitchen for them which we saw today.
It was really interesting to hear what some of the nonprofit staff members were saying about their organization and also to observe what was really happening. We had been recruited to this project previously because it appeared that the work was not being conducted adequately and wasn’t being recorded very well. We knew coming in that there were some issues that needed to be resolved. Our job is to figure out what those issues actually are and respond to them. Because I was looking for problems and areas that needed to be fixed, I saw a lot more than I would have otherwise. For example, we were told by one of the staff members that community health workers go between their 10 patients between 9 am and noon every day. Today we happened to be there from around 9:30 until noon. During that time, we saw several of these home-based care workers who were just sitting in the office. Some of them never left the office during that whole time. Obviously they weren’t actually visiting the houses that day, but why not? That is the real question. Some of them looked extremely tired and worn out. Is there something going on in their own home that is limiting their ability to go out and care for others? These are the questions that need to be asked and I’m excited that this class is going to give me a chance to ask those questions and learn what it really means to run a community based care program in a place where even your workers have struggles you may not understand.
After returning from Dunoon, we had a discussion section of the class and talked about what we had observed before moving into a more lecture based format of the course. I’m excited to see where these ten weeks take me in this course as well as the others I’m in. Tomorrow I’ll be at Philani for most of the day working in their remote clinic. I’ll let you know what my experience is like tomorrow!
Tim
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