"I dream of an Africa which is in peace with itself."-Nelson Mandela

I'm sitting at the computer, 11:58 pm, the night before I leave this beautiful country. I ask myself, "Did this semester really happen?"...already my time here feels like it was a dream. I cannot even begin to describe this experience in words. As Ayla said when we were processing our time here: "Pick any adjective, and that describes it." From joyful, saddening, depressing, exhausting, uplifting, exciting, transformative, incredible, traumatic, adventurous, peaceful, beautiful...the list goes on, and on, and on, and on.

What I can tell you for sure is that I'm a better social worker, a better person, and a better member of the human race. I am filled with gratitude and joy when I reflect on my time in South Africa--to all of my amazing friends and family for their unconditional love and support, for all of the experiences and opportunities given to me, to all of the children who touched my life and whose lives I touched, for the chance to grow, learn, and develop, to the people I met both at Botshabelo and during my travels (which, I know I know...you still need to hear about because I've got some CRAZY stories for you), and to myself...for following my gut, making the decision to come here, and for taking advantage of every moment.

I leave tomorrow afternoon at 5:30 and after a 25 hour trip, arrive on Sunday morning in Austin. Thank goodness for melatonin, ear plugs, and eye masks.

Thinking back on my time here, I am at peace within myself...and can't wait to return to my new home again soon.

Sala sentle (stay well),
Ilene

You Are My African Queen, The Girl Of My Dreams...

Greetings from Tanzania (which you'll hear about in the next blog post) and mambo? ("what's up?" in Swahili)...

Since Ayla & I returned from our (belated) Spring break trip a couple of weeks ago, we spent our last week at Botshabelo alternating between states of freezing to death and emotional break-downs. Apparently Autumn has begun in South Africa and that means temperatures in the lower 40s and upper 50s. SO not prepared for that! Not only did I have on five shirts, a pair of pants, and two pairs of socks AT THE SAME TIME one night, but I was also under my blanket and Ayla's! In recent days, we've given up our own rooms and have been bunking up for the body warmth...we even stooped so low as to bring our hot plate into my room and crank it up to full blast in order to have a little heat in the place. Uhhh, sorry electricity bill...

BUUUURRRROONIIES!!!


On the other hand, while our nights were filled with chattering teeth and purple lips, our days were spent working with Shanna and Leigh (two of the Cloete daughters) & Marion on what she calls our "Biographies." A Biography is a counseling modality that Marion learned from her mentor in Australia that basically instructs a person to look back on their lives and re-experience it through drawing, painting, feeling, moving, dancing, and sounding. Not only has my creativity reached new heights, but I have also bawled my eyes out, laughed until I peed in my pants, and translated my name into sound. Overall: Will I use it in my future Social Work practice with clients? Check. Was it therapeutic? Check. Cathartic? Check. Transformative? Double-check.

My biography: my life through painting


Other fun activities over the last week that took place included our last promised traditional South African meal of fried chicken intestines, chicken necks, and spinach & peanut butter, all accompanying our favorite South African staple: pap. I'll be honest, the whole vegetarian thing will definitely resume once I return home...but I couldn't pass up at least trying South African meats and the various chicken body parts over the course of the semester.

Check out the face Ayla made with our "last supper"


Enjoying chicken necks with Ayla & Lebo, the fastest fried chicken intestine maker in all of South Africa


We also managed to play volleyball and have coffee with the Cloete daughters almost every night this week, and snuggle up with some of the little ones to watch movies before they went to bed. On Friday night, a local TV station actually aired the documentary about Botshabelo. Ayla & I watched with Shanna and some of the older kids. Now that we have actually met and know most of those kids, watching "Angels in the Dust" touched me at such a deep level that it is hard to explain...these kids are honestly the most incredible souls I have ever met; some of the most resilient, inspiring, and dynamic people I know. Better watch the documentary for yourself.

It is hard to imagine that my internship is officially over and that I had to say goodbye to everyone at Botshabelo before departing for the next few weeks for some fun-filled travel-time. I'm in Tanzania meeting up with a friend from USY (my Jewish youth group from high school) and a friend from my Social Work program who are both working in Tanzania for the semester for a little over a week. Then I'm meeting Ayla in Cape Town for a few days then we're going to hit up the Garden Route (along the coast in South Africa). Luckily, Ayla & I will be back to Botshabelo for at least one night afterward, before we head home to the States...so I didn't have to say goodbye, goodbye yet---just a "see you soon." Geez, even that was hard for me to do! But I did get to take a few friends and some of my favorite kids with me to the airport. We piled 12 people into a 5 passenger car--don't ask. It was amazing to see the kid's faces when we pulled up to the airport as none of them had ever seen an airplane up close and personal before, neither had they stepped foot into an airport. Watching the wheels turn in their heads when I explained the checking-in process, where my bags go, how people use aviation as a form of transportation, terminals, the airport food court, escalators (weren't you ever scared of them when you were a little kid? Boy, I was!!) along with planting some seeds that one day...they'll be able to fly anywhere and everywhere they want to go; that the sky is truly the limit for them...well, it just truly warmed my heart.

More to come on the flip side.

A favorite photo taken last week. Nthabise is one of the youngest at Botshabelo--8 months old and is just a beautiful little girl.
Hands: Me & Nthabise




Lyrics to my new FAVORITE song: African Queen by 2 Face (hence the title of this blog)

Yeah, yeah, you are my African queen, oooh lord, oooh lord
Just like the sun, light up the earth, you light up my life
The only one, I've ever seen with a smile so bright
And just yesterday, you came around my way
And changed my whole scenery with your astonishing beauty
oh You coulda make a brother sin, no ordinary thing
A supernatural being, and ooh... you are just brighter than the moon
Brighter than the star, I love you just the way you are.

CHORUS
and you are my African Queen, the girl of my dreams.
you take me where I've never been
you make my heart go ding-a-ling-a-ling, oh ahh
you are my African Queen, the girl of my dreams
And you remind me of a thing
And that is the African beauty yahhh

yahh yahh oooo, you are my African queen, oh lord, oo lord hmm
Out of a million u stand as one
the outstanding one
I look into your eyes, girl what I see
is paradise yeah
you captivated my soul
now everyday I want you more o o oo
how can I deny this feeling am feeling inside ey
oh no one can never take your place
can never take your space
that's a fact I cannot erase
and you, you are the one dat makes me smile
make me float like a boat upon d nile.

(CHORUS)

oooo ooooo yaahhh yahhh hu hu hu

you are my African Queen and I know, oh yes I know hhn
you are my African Queen and I know, see I know
See I know what I am feeling in my heart and in my soul
oh I know that it is love
And I know that this love was surely sent from up above
Cause you're the only one I think of
You are my African Queen
And I know that this means that you're the only one that I will serve
I'll give you my heart, my love, my body and my money
Every other thing you think of
Who could think of anything better than you
Who could think of ever hurting you
Sacrifice my all, I'll give it all to you
you are my African Queen
For REAL

(CHORUS)

Don't Bump If You Can't Grind

Where do we start?!?!?!?! Spring break 2010… one month late (South African style, of course). While we could write for years on all of the interesting/fun/adventurous/random things that we did/saw/learned/experienced, we won't bore you with the details. Or maybe we will… we will have to see how this blog goes…
On our break we went to Swaziland, Durban and the Drakensberg Mountains via the Baz Bus: a mode of transportation geared to young, broke backpackers that takes you all around the country and drops you off RIGHT in front of your hostel (no messing with trains to a bus to a cab to find your hostel with this South African treasure!). A pretty sweet deal if you ask us! We picked up the first leg of our Baz Bus tour in Joburg after an early morning (6:00 am!!) trek from Botshabelo. It took us about...umm...all day (9 hours) to drive from Joburg to Swaziland...but the drive was unbelievably beautiful! We passed through every type of landscape you could possibly imagine: from flat, browning plains, rolling green hill, rocky mountains, to pine forests...we saw it all.

Chapter 1: Swaziland. Or should we say, the Kingdom of Swaziland. Oh yes, that’s right. As in, there is a king. And here is our picture with him:



Swaziland looks like a lush, tropical paradise. And it is amazingly clean, no litter anywhere, and all of the public bathrooms were spotless (and if you know us, you know we know bathrooms). And the people? Wow...super nice, friendly, and helpful. We did a safari on horseback, single-handedly supported their economy for the next 5 months (gotta love those African crafts markets-especially the jewelry made out of elephant hair!), walked A LOT, and took a walking tour of the city hitting up some museums, the previous King's palace, and a village. On the tour, we went to this man's house in the village who quit his job to dedicate his life to uplifting and empowering youth and women through the arts and music. In the Swazi culture (much like the way things are going in the States), the arts are not recognized as important, and therefore, kids are not encouraged to develop those "right-brain" skills. By turning his home into an art gallery and teaching art & music lessons, this man is trying to inspire the kids to think outside of the box, open and expand their views, and to resist becoming another AIDS statistic...because he views the biggest problem in the country to be "intellectual poverty, far worse than economic poverty"-Lucky, Stick 'N Mud Art Gallery. His words and work really moved me and filled me with a sense of hope. He said, "We are all the Mandelas and Obamas, we just have to find a way to let it out"...and that he is! In fact, one of the kids that he's been working with recently one a country-wide art contest which includes a full-ride to the Arts institute of Swaziland. Really, really cool!

Me, Lucky of Stick 'N Mud Art Gallery & my cool new painting


Ilene, the horse whisperer


Ayla on Serengeti & Ilene on Lizzy. We got like THIS close to zebras and water buffalo!


Welcome back to South Africa! At the boarder between Swaziland & SA


Chapter 2: Durban. On the way to Durban, we heard the most disturbing radio commercial ever. The jingle went: "Soloooomon, the self-sacrificing salmon!” It was for canned tuna/salmon. Pretty much the most ridiculously hysterical thing we'd heard in an long time and unfortunately for us, the jingle was damn catchy, and a week later we are still singing it. Onto the important things: Durban, as a city, is pretty much in shambles as the government is trying to fix every road for the world cup. Hi, do you know it is 54 days away?!?! We had to take detours every five minutes on our driving tour of the city. And after coming from clean, clean, pristine Swaziland, Durban was a landfill. There were mountains of trash building along the curbs in the streets...and vacant, run-down buildings along the beach. As they say in South Africa, "shame, man, shame." Also of interest, the government has changed all of the name of the roads, away from their English names and back to traditional African names, which are kind of long and hard to pronounce, and our taxi driver was less than excited about this decision. However, we thought it was cool, and saw it as a necessary step in shifting power back to Africans.

In Durban we went to the art museum and natural science museum. And we learned that honey bees navigate using the sun, and only female mosquitoes bite you. We wandered across a strike by municipality workers demanding better wages (go Community Organizing!!!). We met a lot of really nice people in Durban, including: the “Opposition Politician” who explained the strike to us, the Greek man with a deli that gave us free dessert and continuously called his niece ugly to her face, and the nice Indian man who worked in the sporting goods store that filled our water bottles. Yay for friendly people! We spent some time on the beach, and then ate at a cool restaurant where they paint your face in traditional Zulu style.

Community Organizing: South African style


The beach by uShaka Marine World


Zulu face-painting


The next day we took a 7 hour tour that covered almost everything there is to do in the city. We saw the coast, the harbor, a market (complete with crafts next to the meat market with sheep’s head and innards) saw the Cato Township, the Indian Township of Chatsworth, the Hare Krishna Temple of Understanding, the Indian market where we had lunch at our guide’s wife’s restaurant...spicy and delicious!!, drove by the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere, went to the Botanical Gardens, and lastly to a museum about the history of the Cato township.

Part of Durban's Golden Mile of beaches (view from View Point)


Sand Artists on Battery Beach...check out the Big 5


A close-up of Cato Township, one of the largest African Townships in the country


Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? Krishna stole the cookies from the cookie jar! Artwork of Krishna in the Hare Krishna Temple of Understanding


Curry....yummy! Pretty much we could only eat a few bites before our tongues caught on fire.


Lunch with our Tour Guide


The bark of an eucalyptus tree at the Botanical Gardens. Who ever saw such a colorful trunk?!?!


Flowers in the Botanical Gardens: quite representative of the bright and beautiful people of South Africa


Chapter 3: Drakensberg Mountains. They say that the mountains look like the landscape in Lord of the Rings. We would probably agree if it hadn’t of been the beginning of winter and the greenery was now brownish. But hey, we can use our imaginations. The first Boer explorers who saw the Drakensberg Mountains said they looked like Dragons (hence the name, Drakensberg in Afrikaans). Here, we saw 800 year old bushman cave paintings. Awesome. Except for the noneco-friendly tourists in the past that poured water and coke on the paintings to make them look better in pictures, and thus washed the paintings away. UHHH! Anyway, the history of the paintings dates back 5,000 years.

Bushman Sand Cave Painting of animals


The next day, Ilene took a much-needed personal day complete with a small hike, meditation and yoga out in the middle of nature, reading in a hammock with the mountains in the distance, and time spent in the sun by the hostel's pool...and Ayla almost fell off a mountain. Multiple times. She went on a tour to the top of a mountain that has the world’s second longest waterfall. But fortunately, I'm happy to report, she survived and is sitting next to me as I type this blog.

The mountain Ayla climbed, called the Amphitheater...Ilene just took a picture with it


Views of nature during my Yoga-at-the-Drakensberg Practice


Chapter 4: two nice Jewish boys in Joburg. We had to stay one night in Joburg because we got in too late for the orphanage to pick us up, and lucky for us, our friends at Botshabelo have the hookup with two nice Jewish boys who live there. They took us out to dinner and drinks, and then we got to stay at one of their houses. Stand-up shower and free internet. Need I say more?

Devin & Tony: wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish

We finally arrived back at Botshabelo on Monday, and while it was nice to travel and experience something new, we are glad to be back to our "home away from home." The End.

PS: If you are wondering about the title of this blog... the only mode of public transportation in South Africa is "taxis," which are little mini vans that cram the people in and follow a route. In Durban we discovered that they had pimped out their taxis, and given them wild names such as "Dont Bump If You Can't Grind," "X-Convict," "Seducer," "Sexy Attitude," "Souljah," "G-Thang," etc. And some of the taxis are like traveling dance clubs: you can hear their music blaring a mile away...or should we say kilometer away.

Easter Extravaganza!!

Our first ever Easter baskets--completely soaked in the rain by the end of the hunt!


Friday: It all began early on Friday morning…at 5:30 am to be exact. Here in South Africa (and maybe in other places too?) Good Friday represents a day were people gather together to clean/clear the graves of their loved ones, to honor their lives and to mourn their deaths. Fortunately for the children of Botshabelo, most of their relatives are buried at the on-site cemetery. We had been instructed to meet at the school at 6:00 am to accompany the Cloete family and all of the children up to the Botshabelo cemetery. As the tradition goes, you are technically supposed to go to the cemetery, clean the graves, and return home, all before sunrise…but we have all learned about "Botshabelo" time--we were the only ones awake!!! Around 6:45 we started our trek to the cemetery, which is about a mile away from the main section of Botshabelo, on the other side of the village at the end of the property. We made it about five steps out of the door before someone from the village came running to Marion with a problem...

Crisis Intervention Case #421: A young man in the village had gotten drunk the night before and had severely beaten his wife. Apparently, she took money out of his bank account without telling him (to buy groceries for their family and a cell phone) and that equals choking, strangling, punching, attempting to drown her in the toilet and threatening to kill her with a gun, plus slapping their oldest child. The police were called immediately and, needless to say, Ayla and Ilene got into Social Worker mode quickly: Marion assigned Ayla to watch the husband so he didn’t run away from the cops, and Ilene to console the wife and provide safety and security for the time being. About an hour later the cops showed up, took a statement from the wife, and took the husband away. In a situation like this, here in South Africa, the wife has all of the power—so it was up to her whether or not she wanted Marion to call the police as well as her decision for the police to take her husband to jail. At the end of the two and a half hour event, he was in jail and she was in the hospital.

Finally the hike up to the cemetery began! At the graves, we encountered Marion with an entourage of little ones. She was leading each child to the grave of their family members, and we would all sit down together and support the child in talking to their deceased love one. Picture this—Marion talking and the child repeating after her: “Hi Mom. I’m big now. I’m even in school, and I’m very clever. Don’t worry, I’m a good boy too. I hope you’re having a nice time up there with G-d. I’m not ready to join you yet, because I still have my life to live. But don’t forget to fetch me when I am ready to die. I love you Mom and I think about you all of the time.” Ahh…brings tears to my eyes just recalling those intimate moments. Then we would all give blessings to the deceased person and blow them kisses up toward the sky. Of course it was really, really, really sad—especially when we walked a child from their mother’s grave to their father’s grave, and then to their sibling’s grave...but it was also really, really, really touching to see little 7 and 8 year-olds supporting one another and seeing from a big picture perspective, that these children are being cared for and are living their lives.

Along with cleaning the graves, the kids picked flowers for their parents


Graves of some of the babies of Botshabelo who died from AIDS


Unfortunately, while we were up there, the weather turned yucky, and it got cooold and rainy. No one was wearing appropriate attire—a lot of the kids didn’t even have shoes on or a jacket!! Oy vey! Aye, and we got soaked down to our skivvies (which were somehow muddy by the end of the trek back home). After that kind of morning, there are only a few things a person can do: Hot bath and watch a movie. Luckily Shanna has a couch in her house, it is kind of disgusting (filled with baby pee and vomit), but we sit on it anyways. We watched a bad movie and ate popcorn. It was good times. That evening was spent like most evenings these days (remember Club Texas?), our friends Thami (pronounced Tommy) and David came over to visit.

Saturday: Ayla and I have recently been counseling a particular group of siblings (Ayla to a pair of brothers & me to the family of 9 kids that I mentioned I love so much—but I’m only really working with four of the nine), and our sessions consist a lot of art therapy, and narrative building. After some individual sessions, we are both anxiously awaiting Marion for our promised lecture on interpreting art! In the afternoon, we went to help with the ENORMOUS amount of preparations for the upcoming Easter Extravaganza. There was the bajillion bars of chocolate to melt down and spoon onto tin foil and then individually wrap. Then there was the Easter egg painting station, which turned into color wars by the end of the night. And don’t forget the ever-so-popular Easter Basket making!

Ayla & I helping in our first Easter!


Some of the kids painting their eggs that would later be hanging from the trees

Throughout the week the kids were so anxious to make their Easter baskets that they were searching high and low for anything they could use. We found ourselves donating anything and everything we possibly could... including our matzah boxes!

Some of their baskets were soooo intricate and the artwork was incredible!


But the best, by far, was the Matzah-Box-Turned-Easter-Basket. (this one made us really happy...and laugh a lot!) Who says different religions can’t come together?!?!?!


Sunday: Still more Easter preparation…but lucky for us we skipped out and went to a local church service with our old roommie Pauline (a lady who has lived here for about 20 years and is the Cloete family’s main assistant and she’s also head of the kitchen). Apparently the church is shared between two congregations: the white Afrikaners and the blacks. When we arrived the Afrikaner service had just ended, and they swooped in on us like vultures to fresh meat in hopes of recruiting us to their congregation. It was pretty amusing to say the least, but they were very friendly nonetheless. The building consists of a single, small room with about 50 fold out chairs, and everyone brings their own book—nothing like these massive, multi-million dollar mega churches you see in the States. Just makes you wonder what you really need versus what is just for show. So, the service began with harmonious singing and then went into a sermon by the pastor. Up to this point, everything was done in Tswana (the main tribe in the area). For the following sermons, however, we got VIP treatment: congregation members stood up next to the pastor to translate into English for us. The topic of the sermon seemed to center upon the two lives that we have: our human life and our spiritual life. There was much talk of rebirth, and having a choice of which kind of life you want to live. At one point, they even seemed to be telling the Passover story, but the accents of our interpreters were thick, and it was hard to know exactly what was being said. The service concluded with everyone taking communion. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Interestingly enough, the host was matzah! As everyone lined up to receive it, we sheepishly stood back, but everyone’s intense staring and gentle nudging made it clear that we weren’t about to skip out on this one. For the first time ever, and the last time ever, Ayla and Ilene took communion. Amen.

After church we returned home to help with the continuing Easter shenanigans/extravaganza. We were there aaaaall night tying little strings to the Easter eggs and then to the trees (still not really sure why)…but it was pretty and kinda looked like Christmas with all the egg ornaments hanging from the trees.

Monday: Rainy, muddy, mushiness. Finally Easter had arrived!!! Unfortunately, the terrible weather kept postponing the Easter Egg Hunt all day. Through much anticipation and excitement, about 4:00 pm, the hunt began. First in the Easter Extravaganza—the ceremony of dumping the TONS and TONS of candy into big bins, so that all the kids could see the goodies that were soon to be theirs.

Candy!! Yummy!!


Marion dumping candy and laying out the rules for the hunt


Second, we carried the heavy-ass bins all the way up the hill, half way to the cemetery. Good thing we got biceps of steel!!



Third, we walked along the field of high grass and threw the candy as far as we could. In the end, I think the candy field stretched to the size of 2 soccer fields! FINALLY, the hunt began.

On your mark, get set, go!


The kids went crazy hunting for the candy!


In addition to candy, the family also hid 1 and 2 Rand coins as well as two 50 Rand bills and one 100 Rand that everyone was especially hunting for. Lucky Tshepang found the 100 Rand!


Two hours later the sun was setting, the dogs had eaten half of the chocolate, and the field was covered in candy wrappers. The kids went home, and we went with the family to the “wishing pile”- a sacred space to make blessings and wishes for the world.

All in all, a hugely (muddy and) successful Easter.

Mmmm...Couch! Mmmm....Matzah!

So, an important update from last blog: remember how we were super confused about wanting to eat the meal at last week's funeral and not getting to? Well, it turns out that everyone who ate it got a serious case of diarrhea. Phew! Thanks Cloete family for saving us from that mess!

Dishin' up for meal time at Botshabelo AKA: the biggest pot you've EVER seen



However, there was still one big ugly mess that we did have to clean up: our last group project for Grad school eeeever!!! We were planning to head to Johannesburg on Sunday for Passover, but on Saturday we were given a 30 minute warning to pack our bags and head to the city. Needless to say, our group was a little disgruntled that we were leaving before the project was finished. However, seeing as they live in Africa too, they totally understand the African way of life. Phew...thank you group C2! GOOO TEAM AFRICA!

Needless to say (and I quote Debbie Friedman on this one...): "Wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish. You're never alone, when you say you're a Jew. So when you're not home, and you're somewhere...kinda...newish...The odds are, don't look far, there's Jews just like you!" And in Joburg, we did find ourselves some nice Jews--in fact, we stayed with Josh's family. All I have to say about Peta and Stanley is this: Dai-anue! (Hebrew for "enough"--and also a song that we Jews sing at our Passover seder). Even if they would have welcomed us into their home for Passover, dai-anue...even if they had us for 1st AND 2nd Seder, dai-anue...even if they would have let us use their STAND-UP SHOWER, dai-anue...dai-anue...dai-aune! They were pretty much the most amazing host and hostess on the planet! They took care of us, let us stay with them (for two extra days that we didn't plan on initially!), chauffeured us around town, AND the BEST...drum roll please...provided us with a couch to lay on!!! You have no idea how much we miss a couch!! Honestly, you don’t know what you have until its gone!

This is for you Rick, Mom, Elisa and Adam: this is Apple...one of Peta & Stanley's miniature schnauzers! Awwww...


So our first day there, we went to this mega flea market and African crafts fair--apparently, it's the biggest and best one in all of South Africa. Four hours later, we found ourselves drowning in our own purchases. Don’t worry, they weren’t all for ourselves--some of you lucky friends & family will be receiving traditional African goodies upon my return. The market had items spanning the spectrum: from traditional African paintings and baskets and jewelery, clothing, purses, all the way to spices and dried meats. The adjacent flea market had goods from India and Ghana, plus vintage clothing, and antique collectibles. I think I spent more Rand there in four hours than I have in the last four weeks!

Ayla sporting vintage attire at the market:



That night we had a very special moment where we got to lie on the couch and watch a weird/intense Samuel L. Jackson movie (anyone seen "187""?). Aaaaaaaah...SO good. Then in the morning, we got another special treat with a STAND-UP shower (I seriously could have spent the whole morning in that shower!). Aaaaaah...SO good. Then we celebrated the first night of Passover, and while we felt right at home (remember, wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish), there were many things that were quite different from the American Jewish version of the Passover seder. For instance: Apparently South African Jews eat their Hillel sandwiches with lettuce instead of maror...and they sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on their matzah balls (actually, this didn't taste as weird as you think)...and don’t forget the interesting Hagaddah book they use that explained how there were actually 200 plagues instead of 10?!?! (Don’t ask.) But being surrounded by our (now) extended family, eating til we burst, and celebrating our freedom, we felt extremely grateful!! Then the next day we did it all over again with another side of the "family" (dai-anue!).

So an interesting tid-bit about Johannesburg: it is the largest man-made forest in the world! See for yourself…



On Wednesday morning our host graciously drove us back to Botshabelo. Home, sweet home. That night we put on our very own Botshabelo-style Seder: Passover Seder, Part III...for some of the Cloete family members and some older kids to learn about our traditions. (Mom, you'd be so proud!) However, it was our first attempt ever at making matzah ball soup--I'm sad to say that it wasn’t pretty. Where is a Bubby when you need her?!?! April Fools Day is a really big deal here, so in the morning, Marion told us our food made everyone sick. We are still trying to figure out if that is a joke or not. We are investigating everyone who attended and getting different answers. Hmmmmm. But now it's a rainy and yucky Thursday afternoon. And all we want is a couch!

Note, this is not me at Passover being an orthodox Jew, it is me the night of the vigil for last week's funeral, where African tradition calls for women to completely cover their hair and body. It's a good look for me, neh?



It's hard to believe that I'm coming on my last three weeks here at Botshabelo before heading off to do some traveling around Tanzania and South Africa. Gonna live it up until then, no doubt!

Club Texas and A Funeral

Apparently our house has become the new hangout (any teenage boy--from America all the way to South Africa--can't resist the allure of itunes and youtube). Every night after dinner we sit at the table, doing what we do: drinking tea, painting, and relaxing, we strain our ears every time we hear a noise outside and make beats on which of the older guys are coming over again. We've basically turned into a hip-hop club (the boys here LOVE them some hip-hop)...blasting the itunes and dancing. We're now Club Texas. And check this, I've introduced them to some of the classics of youtube: "Kittens Inspired by Kittens," "Charlie Bit My Finger," and the ever-so-popular "Blood." Apparently they have a "Blood Remix" out now--I HIGHLY recommend it!

Rewind to Thursday night: the beginning of the funeral rituals. If you read in the last post, a family of three lost their mother last week (foul play is suspected, most likely poison). Luckily Botshabelo has their own cemetery on their property, and since the family is very poor, they buried the mother here at Botshabelo. Tragically, there was a secret plan to send the ever-hard-working Con and Marion on a mini vacation for a few days, but the money had to be used for the funeral instead. Also tragically, here in South Africa, it is extremely cheaper to bury someone on a weekday (thus the Friday morning funeral), but this meant that none of her friends and many of her relatives were not able to attend her funeral (because they couldn't get off of work on a weekday nor could they afford the transportation costs). But this didn't stop Botshabelo from honoring African culture and tradition or from having a packed house at the vigil or funeral service.

At sundown on Thursday night the vigil started. This included singing, clapping, a little swaying/dancing, and some preaching thrown in. It was really amazing to see how the Botshabelo family came together to support the three kids. None of them actually knew the woman being buried, but they stayed up all night at the vigil with the kids...and really did all that they could to keep tradition and give her a proper funeral. Also starting at sundown: the digging of the hole for the coffin. It took until 3:00 in the morning-about the same time the vigil ended-for six of the older boys to dig the grave. On Friday morning there was another short service (again preaching, clapping, singing, swaying), before making the long trek to the edge of the property where the cemetery lies. There was also a short viewing of the woman before she was taken to the cemetery. Not only did Ayla attend her first funeral, but both Ayla and Ilene saw their first dead person. To be quite honest, it wasn't as creepy or disturbing as I imagined.

So at the cemetery there was more clapping and singing and swaying. The coffin was lowered, and then the older boys worked like maniacs to fill up the whole with their shovels and dirt. It only took 30 minutes to be completely finished with the burial service. Then we all marched back down, washed our hands in water with aloe plant, and then technically, ate. However, the Cloete family feared our stomachs couldn’t handle the food (we are not sure why), so Marion told them that Passover had started early and we couldn’t eat anything. Unfortunately, Ayla and Ilene had been asking to go to the grocery store for daaaaays, and only had eggs and corn meal at home, and were really looking forward to that meal. Bummer.

Now most of the kids are going home for Easter holiday, and the campus is eerily quiet. Sorry U.S. kids: South African schools close for 2 weeks for Easter. Hopefully we wont get too lonely. But we are off this weekend to Joburg to celebrate Passover with Josh's family...definitely looking forward to quality "family" time and getting to see some of Joburg.

Until next time...sala sentle!

Life at Botshabelo = Never a Dull Moment

It’s only Thursday night and there is already much to tell…

Saturday afternoon I said goodbye to Sarah & Jennifer. Boy, I have to tell you that I am SO extremely grateful for their visit. As you read in the last blog post, their trip was ACTION-PACKED! I swear, I haven’t laughed that hard, that loud, or that much since I’ve been in South Africa. Not only did I have a blast with them…but the kids are still asking about the girls and want to know when they’re coming back! After the long ride to the Joburg airport (seriously, you think traffic is bad in YOUR city…), Joseph (partner to one of the Cloete daughters, Leigh, who does most of the driving for Botshabelo) took us to Magaliesburg, which is the nearest city to Botshabelo, to chill for a few hours with his crew. Joseph just turned 27, so most of his friends are around my age---and they were so ayoba (Tswana for cool). Ayla & I sat outside at the Magaliesburg carwash (which, is really nothing like the carwashes we have in the States. Instead this was just four big logs standing upright with a net overhead—in Joseph’s friend’s front yard), and drank beer while talking with the guys. It was interesting to note that we were hanging out with only guys, because the women were literally “in the kitchen” preparing dinner. But they were really friendly and open to talking about anything and everything. This one friend had recently been released from prison and thought it was really cool that two white girls wanted to hang out with a bunch of black guys. Living in a post-apartheid “New South Africa,” this made me wonder how long he had been in prison…

On Sunday, Ayla & I attended our first church service here at Botshabelo. Con leads the children in song, worship, and bible lesson. Let’s just say that I’m happy to hear that from this coming Sunday on, the older boys will take over. God bless Con, but I think his sermons go right over the kid’s heads (he’s a very intellectual type). But…phew…the singing…man, have those kids got rhythm!! It’s the kind of singing that touches your heart and sends goosebumps all over your body. Simply beautiful. Later on we took the Grade 3-6 boys and did a “Guy’s Afternoon”---where we focused on team building and cooperation. Since we’ve been here, Ayla & I have been collecting all of our recyclables (thanks to yours truly, Ms. Green Lover): things like milk cartons, coke bottles, paper towel rolls, etc. etc. We split the boys up into 3 groups of about 7 and let them choose which recycled items they wanted for their team. Then, they had half an hour to get their creative juices going and build whatever they wanted…as a team. Overall they did really well, as I don’t think I heard one swear word or saw any fights break out! Plus, they definitely stretched their imaginations: we had backpacks made out of juice bottles, a CD player from a cereal box, and toilet paper binoculars!

Trying to decide what our group should make



Toilet Paper Binoculars: perfect for bird watching



Monday was an official holiday in South Africa: Human Rights Day, which commemorates the Sharpeville Massacre that occurred on March 21, 1960, when South African police opened fire on a crowd of black protesters, killing 69 people. The confrontation happened in the township of Sharpeville, in what is now the Gauteng province (I live in Gauteng!). But Human Rights Day pretty much just meant that the kids didn’t have to go to school and that Ayla & I got to hang out with Josh’s family all day at a really beautiful “artist retreat center,” where artists can go to create in the middle of nature. We got an official tour of all of the art pieces—incorporated into the surrounding grounds—by a woman who works there...and then we got a second (and if you ask me, better) tour from Josh’s 8-year-old cousin, Gabriel. :) Wow, what a freaking cute kid!! We ended the day with a delicious picnic lunch and profound conversation about politics, spirituality, and life with Josh’s family and their friends.

Ayla & I with the Katz Family!



Tuesday and Wednesday have been filled with various Botshabelo happenings: mostly funeral planning for a mother of three kids who live here (8, 12, and 15 years old) who died last week. The kids hadn’t seen their mom since she dropped them off at Botshabelo, a little over two years ago. The oldest kid went to the hospital and identified his mother and met his aunt (who lives in Cape Town) for the first time—she hadn’t seen her sister in 25 years—because, well…one word: Apartheid. Families were literally torn apart and dispersed all over the country, much like blacks in the States during slavery. We prepared the house where the vigil is going to take place tonight, started cooking (traditional African funerals have TONS of food—they feed everyone who comes and stay up all night drinking tea & eating cookies), and took a trip up to the Botshabelo cemetery to choose a plot for the mom. Some of the older boys started digging the grave at sundown. As Marion explained it to us, they had to wait for nighttime to start digging because African tradition sees death as a part of night, and the ancestors would get angry if they would have dug during the day…so hopefully they finish before the vigil starts. Although the passing of this mom is extremely sad, I am grateful for the opportunity to take part in this process.

Otherwise, yesterday I assisted Marion in changing bandages on an older man in the village who got 3rd degree burns all over his arms this past weekend. She had to cut off some of the skin that was peeling off…some people might think that it was pretty gross, but I thought it was SUPER cool (Dad, you'd be so proud). I am certified in Wilderness First Aid, but we NEVER did anything as hardcore as treat real 3rd degree burns in my training course! Apparently, the clinics and hospitals in South Africa don’t give two you-know-whats about simple things like burns, so Marion has learned how to treat burns so she can give the kids & villagers quality healthcare. Geez, what does this woman NOT do?!?! I thought it was really interesting that she let the kids watch as well—a great learning opportunity for fire safety and first aid.

Doing arts & crafts with some of the kids at my house



The kids made my outfit completely out of construction paper! Check-out my cool new hat, belt & fan!



Oh, and also, Ayla & I have been doing some developmental assessments on the babies: observing their play and watching if they have a dominant side for grasping, throwing, kicking, seeing, writing etc. etc. Brings me back to the good ol’ days at Any Baby Can. Of course, I love playing with babies…so getting to spend time with them one-on-one makes me really happy. It’s amazing to see the individual differences that have begun to emerge within each 2-3 year old…I’m looking forward to hearing more about their stories and various traumas to see how it’s all manifesting in their development.

So tonight is the vigil and tomorrow is the funeral. Sending much love to the kids and their family—and to all of you!