Peace, Love & Africa: Project Umtha Welanga: That's right... I'm not just a 'white' girl.

I had another wonderful weekend in South Africa. Friday we hiked to the Cape of Good Hope, the very very very tip of Africa. Beautiful doesn't even come close to explaining it.

On Sunday, we went to the famous Mzoli's. Mzoli's is in a township called Guguletu. It's a gem of a place, let me tell you. It's a pretty popular place on weekends and is world-wide known for it's delicious meat and butchery.. (except if you're a vegetarian like me ;)). It's quite the place to hang out and make friends and has a bit of a reputation amongst the locals for drunkeness and disorderly behavior. Of course. I learned the difference between blacks, whites, and coloreds. Which, I have been having a difficult time figuring out anyway. Black townships, white areas... I haven't really been able to sort it all out. What I gathered is that blacks, well... are black. Pure black through the generations. Whites, well... are the same. Pure and white. Coloreds are a mixed race, or people of Hispanic, Asian, or Indian decent. I think my brain has been reprogramed to understand and accept some of the words that they use here to explain each other... or maybe it's that I've been driven around Cape Town enough times to understand the segregation that is here. As interesting as it was, again... we met some really really reaaaaaaaally amazing people and families, that took us in as their own.

And today....back to Monday, Monday. Work was a little bit different today. This week we have foster parent training for the foster parents in Khayelitsha. It was quite the learning experience, let me tell you. The training opened up with us all introducing each other, hugs and kisses, and lots of looks of confusion... as I was a white girl standing in the middle of the room, yet again. After all the women met me, we opened up with a prayer. A beautiful prayer that the women all sang together in Xhosa. I've never really been one to participate in prayers and such, but the sound of these women and how passionate they were about prayer...was not simply about God but the fact that they were praying for each other. Vivianne, the director of Umtha Welanga, opened up the training by saying how important it is that we are ONE family. We are all here for each other, and not to judge each other.... and then the room suddenly felt warm. The discussion then moved to what a foster parent is. Here in South Africa, foster parenting is not the same as foster homes in the states. Between the discussion being half in Xhosa and half in English, I learned how passionate these women are about helping children, and helping each other. Foster parenting here is run by grants, however... these mothers receive next to nothing for the children they provide for. They take these kids into their homes, treat and love them like their own, and then if their biological families want them back, they have no choice but to hand them over and let them go. During this part of the training, Vivianne put more emphasis on the word love and family more than anything else. You could see in all the woman's faces, how much they want to help and love these children. Then, we had to discuss the forbidden word...abuse. The discussion was open for the foster mothers to talk about... yet hardly anyone was saying a peep. Finally, they started talking about verbal, physical, emotional, neglect, and then just barely touched on sexual abuse... the most common type of abuse that these children suffer from. Vivianne could tell that all the women were hesitant, and the tension in the room was almost making me want to pull my hair out. Finally, it was my turn to talk. Vivianne wanted me to introduce the way the United States deals with Foster Care, and abuse. I chose to talk about sexual abuse last, because I knew that the women were going to feel mortified. I talked... and the body language that the women had was actually making me feel a bit uncomfortable. After I was done talking, I could see that the women had a new respect for me... I wasn't just the white girl sitting in the middle of the room anymore. Then, I began to ponder about how I was going to blog about all of this tonight. I started realizing all the things that I don't really talk about in my blog, and started writing them down......

I haven't mentioned that 1 in 4 men here is a rapist.
I haven't talked about the "coloreds" --simply because that word pains me.
75% of South African households have Domestic Violence as a "regular feature" of daily life.
5% of African babies die before their first birthday.
I haven't talked about racism here.
I haven't talked about getting thrown into a house with 9 other people, and suddenly they are your family.
I havent talked about the South African men and their wandering eyes.
I haven't really mentioned the music here... and how beautiful it is to me. Which seems to slide into my ears, which goes to my heart... and then into my soul.
I haven't really talked about how much I really do miss my family...especially Chris.
I haven't talked about how the wind sounds like airplanes at night, and makes our entire house shake.
I haven't really talked about how I secretly practice the different types of Xhosa 'clicks' when I'm alone in my room at night.
I haven't really talked about all the simple pleasures back home that I seem to take for granted. Like a nice hot shower and warm house... not having to rely on public transportation, and my safety.
I have not talked about the incredible amount of trash there is here.

And........I probably won't talk about these things. I have no idea how to start a post about the racism here. Each one of these issues is in my face every. single. day. The energy that it would take to write a post on these things I have to deal with, is just too much for me. So I will continue to do what I do best-- Help people, and show them love.

The next list I seemed to have come up with, are the things that I have learned about South Africa, and living half way around the world.

I learned that in the townships, in the food stands that sell chicken's feet and sheep's heads... yes... you read right... are their favorite foods. And they call Sheep's heads smilies because when the head is roasted, the corners of the mouths pull up into a smile. Yuck.
I have learned that they call traffic lights robots.
I have learned that it is still almost impossible for me to cross the street. Look right, left, right left right left... run foooooo yooooooo lifeeeeeee! look right and left again.
I have learned, and still kind of am learning to ignore how closely Patrick (my bus driver) follows the vehicles in front of us. At home we call it tailgating, here... they call it good driving.
I have learned to be patient. More patient than I ever thought possible. Africa time is really getting a hold on me... The meeting will eventually start.... the bus will eventually be here. Eventually it always happens.
I have learned that it doesn't rain here. It monsoons.
I have learned that American's are considered to be intelligent and smart, but South African's are wise, and can speak 5 or more languages... fluently.
I have learned that it's not Cape Town that I am in love with... it's the real people that I meet in Cape Town. The city is beautiful... but the people are more beautiful, who see no difference in me because I am white.
I have learned, while working in the townships, that there is a difference between good and bad people.
I have learned that I don't need 'things' to be happy. I need people. Good people.
I have learned and experienced the true meaning of family.