Thursday 28 March 2013

Kisses of conviction


Tuesday, 12 February 2013


(Song choice for this blog entry: "Youth" - Daughter)

I taught the children how to blow kisses today.


I stood just in front of the Land Rover as they all came running - this swarm of midgets - hugging and pulling at my clothes.
They were so happy to see us - it was almost as if this physical contact (between adult and child, so foreign to me) was their way of making sure that we had really returned. That we were really here in the flesh.

They stopped in their tracks, all of them giggling as I blew them their first kiss. 

I was back in the village to teach more computer literacy, and it was a lot less taxing on the emotions than it had been the day before.

Today Ash and I were managing a group between the ages of 9 and 12 years old.

Yesterday we were faced with the challenge of a much younger age group and a prominent language/communication barrier that we were (and still are) faced with.
Trying to help them make sense of a computer was a struggle to say the least - but humbling nonetheless.

I have made it my mission to pick up as many Xhosa sayings as I can to aid the destruction of this communication barrier. The kids find it highly amusing listening to my horrid pronunciation of their native tongue.



Yesterday afternoon I returned back to the commune where I would be living until Friday with Ash and three Brazilian volunteers: Paula, Ilana and Bianca.

The house and the volunteers are cared for by a woman named Kwesi who will mother you to the end of the Earth and back, regardless of your background, skin colour, religious affiliation or age.
On my return to the volunteer house that afternoon, I spotted two gourmet sandwiches cling-wrapped to a plate with my name neatly scribbled over the wrap in black koki.
Kwesi had made us all lunch.

Ash, Tobs (a local and permanent employee of VA32'South) and Mike ( VA32'South director) decided to take the volunteers for a ride on the rubber duck - a break from the responsibility we had over the children.

So we spent the early afternoon on the boat speeding around, jumping the swell in the ocean, and body surfing with the other volunteers until we saw a shark. We then stayed in the boat, eventually returning to shore.

After the boat ride we head off to the sports field which was built in the village, not far off from the junior school. Here the volunteers coach sports twice a week (Tuesday and Thursday afternoons). It is a good opportunity to teach the kids how to maintain positive attitudes, support self-empowerment and introduce aesthetic upliftment.



Hopefully I will be able to pick up a few more terms in Isixhosa tomorrow. It's all in the clicks.


I couldn't help myself but to think that although I might have taught these children how to blow kisses today, they taught me how to blow kisses with conviction, in return <3


Sabonana imchomso ichommies! (Goodbye, I will see you tomorrow, my friends).




Inside the Big Green E-Machine. This is a fully sustainable 4x4 which has been converted into a mobile computer literacy lab. It operates on solar power (panels on the roof). This big boy addresses the lack of technology in the rural areas of South Africa. It also provides solutions to the lack of space in schools; the security risks of maintaining expensive assets (11 laptops and 1 server); the unreliability (and in some cases non-existent) electricity supplies; the expansion of teaching opportunities; as well as identifying the potential of expanding the programme by incorporating adults and the surrounding communities into computer classes in the future. 



Milton took the Brazilian volunteers and I on a sunset dune walk on Monday evening, where we watched a magnificent sunset. Milton (top left); Paula (on his right); Ilana (bottom left) and me (right hand corner). 






Ilana, Milton and Paula drinking their zamalek (slang/street name for strong beer). The programme also provides volunteers with accommodation in communal house in the seaside village of Chintsa East - a mere 5 minute walk away from the beach. Volunteers are also given daily meals (breakfast, lunch and supper). Breakfasts are generally an early and healthy buffet of choice; Lunch gives you the option of choosing your own gourmet sandwiches which are prepped by Mama Kwesi; and Sinners are generally home-coked sit down meals which are cooked/braaied (BBQ) by the VA Staff (also catering for vegetarians!!)

Chintsa coastline - sundowners on the evening dune walk.

Teaching the children from the village how to blow kisses, this moment will stay with me forever.




After watching me scribble in my journal, one of the girls from the junior school asked permission to write her name down for me to remember forever. Her name: Anathi. I will never forget you.



The children arriving on the sports field for their Tuesday afternoon sports activities - it is quite a sight to see and experience. The sports field itself (in the background) is dry. The grass is difficult and does not want to grow. It is characterised by pebbles and small rocks, making it hard for the children to play, as they often play barefoot. On these particular sporting afternoons, we teach the kids warm-up and cool-down exercises; we played a game similar to tag (everybody joined in, regardless of your ages group); and then we split up and children can join different sports groups for the afternoon (volleyball, rugby, soccer, and netball). 



Note how the older children care for their younger peers. The girl standing tall on the back of the truck has white painted on her face. This is white powder made of clay and mixed with water, acting as a successful sunblock. 





Warming up on the sports field is one of the more bizarre experiences. The children compete between one another over who gets to hold the various volunteers' hands. Here the children (and volunteers) run around the field to get the circulation going before getting started.



After a completed lap around the field, the party gets together and begins to stretch. Take a minute to note how the children are still clinging on to the volunteers hands. Too sweet.



Still stretching :)



After stretching, the party sits down in a circle while being instructed on the activities for the afternoon. This little girl took a particular interest in me (this afternoon and during my time spent at the school), staying by my side the entire time. She was one of the few whom I had taught how to blow a kiss earlier that day.



More faces exuding more character and curiosity traits. 



Paula in her Volunteer Africa 32' South top.



 This little girl tripped and fell, grazing both her knees and her little toes, and in shock started to cry. Another strange and hard experience to come to terms with is the problem of the children crying. The competition for your attention (especially amongst the younger children) is taken seriously. I could not understand why when one child began to cry - the rest would burst out in chorus. They too crave your attention. 



This boy had been playing on a log, slipped and fell, landing with the pole crunching him in between his legs. All this little guy wanted to do was sit on his own for a bit. 



Watching the older children. These sports days often rely on volunteer numbers and enthusiasm. The more volunteers, the more it allows for the introduction of formal structures within the sports activities. Ash is busy trying to introduce the idea of a formal soccer team. He wants to teach the older children how to coach games and train the youngsters which encourages self-empowerment and upliftment, as well as positive attitudes amongst the young community.





Thirsty? One of the rainwater tanks is fully functional and open for use for the children to use. Not the standard bottled water or energy drinks the children I grew up with are used to, but it water - and water is precious up the Wild Coast.

Masambwe sihle amanzi- ilanga lishushu! (come let us go to drink water - the sun is hot!)




Wednesday 13 March 2013

From little things, big things grow

Monday, 11 February 2013


"The difference between school and life?

In school you're taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you're given a test that teaches you a lesson."
- Tom Bodett (author, voice actor, radio host)



This feeling at the pit of my stomach was horrible, and I couldn't seem to shake it. I clenched my fists tightly together as my throat closed in, and I fought back the distressed tears. I felt myself getting emotional. 


I hate feeling useless. 


Ash (volunteer co-ordinator) had fetched me from Buccs earlier this morning, and together we drove to the village in the Big Green E-Machine: this old Land Rover that has been converted to take on the form of a mobile computer literacy lab for school children. Approximately 10 laptops can fit in here. The Big Green E-Machine currently visits a school in the local village township of Chintsa East - about a 2 hour drive from East London.

I felt like a champion, ready to tackle pretty much anything that swung my way, up until now.

Today we were teaching grades 0 - 2; children between the ages of 3 to 8 years old. 


I have never been crazy about kids. I was never one of those females that melted when they saw a baby come past. Please don't let this information right-me-off as a 'potential mother' in your eyes. There is no doubt in my mind that I will be a phenomenal mother when it comes down to it in the future - a lioness and her cubs theory. I would kill for my babies. But up until now, I have always enjoyed children far more from a distance.


This was the first time I had interacted with children with a sense of 'conviction'. These kids from a little village in the middle of no where. Snot and food everywhere, climbing on top of you, desperately pushing for their turn to touch your umlungu (Xhosa for white person) hair.


And here I stood, hunched over this tiny pre-schooler in the Big Green E-Machine feeling so distressed, I was ready to sob. I didn't know what to do with myself.

We were teaching 13 kindergarteners how to fiddle around on Microsoft Paint. Ah readers, try bare in mind that we only have 10 computers, as well as the fact that toddlers as they are struggle to communicate with adults and have minimum attention span. Try adding a language barrier in on top of those factors and that is when my throat closes in. After a festive evening spent over at Buccs, here I was trying to teach these children computer literacy. Most of them have never heard of the concept of a 'mouse', a 'keyboard', the 'internet', let alone Facebook.


It is hard in the beginning. You begin to doubt whether you being here is worth anything. You feel as if no amount of hand signals or examples that you give them are being recognised.

But Ash is super supportive, and he is so patient with the kids. 
He is so reassuring at every turn (and I have no doubt in my mind that he will make an exceptional father one day).
With each grade that we taught today, I could see the difference in progress levels. The younger kids would fiddle on Paint and lose concentration along the way. The higher the grade, the more work they were able to cover in the 30 minutes each class was allocated. They had moved on to making Tally Charts and Spreadsheets on Microsoft Excel.
And you know what the best part was? Knowing that they had all started off fiddling on Paint  and losing focus, as Ash and I taught them about their theme for the week - "Birds and Trees".  

So today life was about lessons. Teaching and being taught in return. 

Even though my presence in the classroom might have felt futile and idle in the beginning, by the end of the day, I realised the profit gained through it...

One day, these children might graduate from school - and if they are lucky - they will apply for their turn in a tertiary level institution. And for those children living in Chintsa East village, maybe one day, they will think back to their computer lessons; they might think back to Ash and I, and the other volunteers who gave up their time to simply try; and they will be able to open up Internet Explorer, download a University application form, fill it out online, and with the greater hopes of humanity - become a university graduate. 


I suppose from little things, big things can grow.



Check out those faces! Chintsa East Primary School, Wild Coast, South Africa.


Learning about the birds and trees in the Big Green E-Machine with VA32'South, only smiles to offer. Too precious. 


Break time for this little girl. She taught me how to say umti, meaning tree in Xhosa.


Ash and I taught the kids a bit of English vocabulary. Ash figured that one of the simpler ways to encourage the link between the two languages (English and Xhosa) is through physical examples. Ash and I would fetch the kids from their classroom, and make them 'fly like birds (intaka in Xhosa)' all the way to the Big Green E-Machine. The kids love it, we got a great response each time - these children were excited to learn.


Eleven grade 1s are finding their wings on the way to the mobile computer lab on the Big Green E-Machine. with Ash's help. Chinsta East Primary School, Wild Coast, South Africa.


Ash, the volunteer co-ordinator quizzing the children on previous lessons content to gain admission to the Big Green E-Machine. Here he asks the learners what a birds tail is in English by signing it to them. First one who guesses correctly, gets on the bus first - and so on...


Ok, this picture is quite chaotic. As you can see depicted in front of you are Grades 1 to 3 all in the same classroom. It is quite an intense procedure trying to co-ordinate the children into different groups so that they each in turn get a certain amount of time on the computers each week. Often these classrooms go unsupervised, as teachers find it more stimulating to sit in the staffroom, while they get children from the older grades to supervise the classroom in their absence while they too should be learning. Ash and his volunteers often do this process on their own. As upsetting as this is to see and to process, there is nothing that we can do as the volunteer project except for try and give them the motivation to learn more in and out of the mobile computer lab.


The amazing Ash, so productive with his lessons through his interactive methods. 


The Big Green E-Machine with its mobile computer lab parked off in the school grounds in the middle of the village. When the kids see it in the morning they come running.


Here you can see Chintsa East Primary School with the big maroon corrugated-iron roof. There are 4 different classrooms, and there are 7 different grades to teach. You do the math. On the far left (the white building) is the small kindergarten classroom which  takes in 44 toddlers who are looked after by Mama Phumla and VA32'South volunteers.


Ash explaining to the kids in English the difference between a 'leaf' and a 'stick', before giving them their next assignment. The assignment? The kids were instructed to go into school garden, and count how many sticks and leaves they could find in 10 minutes. On their return, they are instructed to plug in their information into a tally chart, and then in the next lesson they will work on putting their information into a spreadsheet  on Microsoft Excel creating tables as well as graphs. From fiddling on Microsoft Paint  to this.


In the Big Green E-Machine :)


As you can see, this is what the computer lab looks like from the inside. Their are 10 laptops and one server that were donated to the Wild Coast School Project. Unfortunately, 3 of the laptops' chargers are not functioning at the moment. Poor Ash, who is doubled-over in a hunched up position trying to co-ordinate a lesson has to keep making sure that none of the laptops run out of power by alternating plugs every 30 minutes.


Hanging out. Break time, Chintsa East Primary School, Wild Coast, South Africa.


Bread for lunch. Chintsa East Primary School, Wild Coast, South Africa.

A little goes a long way. If you think you can help VA32'South out with anything, visit their website on www.volunteerafrica.co.za or contact them via their office number: +27(0)43 7385523. A woman with a big heart by the name of Karen will probably answer. 






Monday 11 March 2013

Buccs, I'll be back! (Chintsa - the beginning).

Sunday, 10 February 2013

(Song choice for this blog entry: "Pretty Lights" - Finally Moving Remix)


I pushed my way out of the Baz Bus after an emotional journey and gave Jay the driver a long hug. It was very hard to say goodbye to this man.


It had been a 4 hour journey from Port Elizabeth to Buccaneers Lodge and Backpackers in Chintsa, and it had been surprisingly easy to get here.


I found myself in what seemed to be a little village on a hill overlooking the entire bay area. A calm lagoon spread itself across the space separating the hill from Chintsa East. This village was the backpackers - and what a breathtaking backpackers it is!


I lugged my bags up to the reception area where I was greeted by a vibrant young local woman, Michelle. Michelle is from the surrounding village, and has been working for Buccaneers since she was in her teens - practically family! I checked in and was shown to an exquisite and comfortable room. So simple.


Here I am to spend one night before I start working with the VA32'South (Volunteer Africa) on the Wild Coast School Project for the next week. Here I will work with children from the surrounding village in Chintsa East, teaching them computer literacy skills, as well as environmental and aesthetic upliftment. VA32'South Runs volunteer programs in non-invasive education and conservation which opens up room for both international AND local volunteers. I will then return back to Buccaneers Lodge and Backpackers for the following Friday and Saturday nights.


In the late afternoon I met with Ash, he is the volunteer co-ordinator of VA32'South.


We sat at the backpackers pool bar, where we enjoyed a casual beer while Ash broke down the following weeks itinerary list for me. Starting tomorrow up until Friday, I will be moving into the communal accomodation/digs, where I will join three other current volunteers from Brazil.


Each  morning starts at 08h00:


I will be up and ready-to-go at the main office in Chintsa East by 08h00, where I am to head to the village to begin teaching computer literacy lessons. The morning starts at the Chintsa East Primary School at 08h30 ending at 11h30. From 11h30 to 12h30 we will be preparing lesson, allowing children to play educational games on the computer, followed by packing up all the equipment. We then return home for lunch until 15h00.


Each afternoon we will be offered a different activity (generally between the times of 14h00 - 17h00, but changes accordingly):


Monday: cultural activity for volunteers (beach walks, sundowners, Xhosa-lessons, boat rides etc)

Tuesday: Volunteers teach sports to the village kids at the Chintsa East Sport Field (football, rugby, volleyball, netball etc...)
Wednesday: Volunteers visit the Greensleeves Children's Home (orphanage).
Thursday: Volunteers teach sports to the village kids at the Chintsa East Sport Field (football, rugby, volleyball, netball etc...)
Friday, Saturday & Sunday: Volunteer free-time, and are free to travel around on the weekends or are welcome to stay at the communal accomodation.

I now retire for the evening at 23h00, after shovelling a delicious plate of spaghetti bolognaise down my throat, watching a lightning storm, and chatting to the other travellers of these parts. Although meals are optional and it is open to self-catering, they are hard to resist! Sal Price, one of the current owners, puts on delicious spreads which cater for vegetarians too.  Each night the backpackers has a themed dinner. I have arranged to return to the backpackers to experience their Mexican, South African Braai, as well as their Traditional Xhosa evenings - something I look forward to.


ALI'S TIP OF THE TRIP: Bring a torch. Walking back to your room/dorm at night from the main house can be quite an adventure in the dark, especially when you are barefoot!



My own ensuite room, lounge and balcony, Buccaneers Lodge and Backpackers, Chintsa.



Private sundeck with a view of SA's finest.





Comfy bed, no broken springs.



Toilet with a view. 



Chintsa beach and lagoon. This beach has WARM water in comparison to Cape Town! Unfortunately, the lagoon hardly ever breaks open to the ocean. This is a direct result of man-made dam which was built a few years back, 2kms upstream, despite being advised to not build a dam closer than 5kms away from the river mouth. A sad truth- this affects the entire ecosystem of what was a thriving estuary. 

Afternoon siesta. Buccaneers is like a village. If you want to partake in the community and the daily activities it has to offer it is just a few steps away. If you are looking for some quite time, you can nestle in your own space quietly and hit the sack for a couple of hours.



 

What used to be a chicken farm was bought by Sal and Sean Price's parents in the early '80s. Back then the property was desolate - no trees or plants. Their parents re-introduced vegetation to the property and built all the structures on the property. Today, their children (Sal and Sean) co-own and manage the lodge and backpackers. 

Some people never leave. This combie parked and never left. It has been in the same spot for almost 10 years. One of the many relics of this magic spot.



Over 30 years of nurturing has gone into this magnificent space which is spread over 8 hectares.




Buccs' Bush Spa: at the bottom of the property is a secret spa. Treat yourself to a massage, or start the day  with a morning yoga class.

Pool Bar: fully-functional bar with pizza oven at the bottom of the property, with easy access to the lagoon and the beach. You should recognise this space as the perfect pool party arena. Above the bar is a sundeck with lounging chairs, perfect for socialising and meeting other travellers.

Daily get-togethers below the pool bar at the volleyball court with free wine :) !!!


Road People: waiting for bread, waiting for change.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

(Song choice for blog entry: "How Bad We Need Each Other" - Marc Scibilia)



It is quite a remarkable moment when you realise that you are in the presence of one remarkable human-being. 

Jay is a minibus driver for the Baz Bus.


This middle-aged man drives tourists along the Port Elizabeth to Chintsa route every Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday.

In his spare time, Jay collects rolls and slices of bread from local food stores and small bakeries in the area. He then apologises to all the tourists aboard the Baz Bus, as he makes four short stops along the journey to Chintsa, handing out this bread to women and children who stand waiting on the side of the road. 

A very rural part of the country, here they stand four days a week. The women are tired, and the children look hungry. They sound hungry - all of them - as they desperately grab for their small share in the loaf of bread, gasping and grunting against the fight for the grain. This is after having walked kilometres over the hills and through the forests of the Transkei.


Jay and his sister have being doing this for years. They also collect cheap pairs of flip flops where they can, usually buying them for around the price of R20. They give these to the children who have no shoes.


In a part of the world where poverty has the potential to be so rife that it becomes stifling - these are the lucky few who have crossed paths with Jay.



Many go without. 

Perhaps what Jay does may seem small and insignificant compared to massive campaigns and support groups in solidarity of those without. But I can guarantee you, Jay does a significant amount of good for these road people.


As we pulled off from the fourth stop before arriving at Chintsa, after giving the children what ever chewing gum and sweeties I had packed myself for the bus ride, I realised why I felt so strange inside. Here I was, chasing visions of my future, while I recognised how inevitably uncertain the futures of these road people are. I left with damp eyes.



So who are the lucky ones in this 'bigger' picture? 

Jay's road people?


No readers, I suppose it is you who are the lucky ones.


Jay and the grain. Somewhere between Port Elizabeth and Chintsa, the Wild Coast, South Africa.


A heart of gold, Jay tries to distribute the bread as evenly as possible.



Skinny and barefoot, hot under the midday African sun.


Packets for bread, waiting for change. Transkei, South Africa.



This two-and-a-half year old toddler walked the journey with her older siblings to meet Jay.

 

Sometimes, we need each other more than we even know. Transkei, South Africa.


This gogo (Xhosa for grandmother), and her grandson, waiting for Jay.


Jay, gogo and grandson. Bread. Somewhere along the N2, Transkei, South Africa.