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.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
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.
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