New Years Eve
I always mean to write more, and really wanted some time to reflect about the past year over the holidays. Turns out finding time to sit on my own is even more complicated.
And then things get a bit hectic (I have adopted using the word hectic instead of crazy etc, people use it a lot here and they understand me better to use it. Also I find it rather fitting) For example today we were told we have to be out of our house by sat afternoon instead of Sunday morning, and as we are visiting and staying with Jen’s friends on the other side of Cape Town we haven’t been there to pack. In addition when we were originally planning to go back on Friday to sort everything- we were told we would be picked up Sat morning…. Logistics such as these come up and then I don’t get to share it all with you.
But really thinking about the past year is quite amazing. I am surprised with how okay I have been with uncertainty in the last year and with how far faith can get you. Last January all I totally knew was I had a little bit of savings, I didn’t have to start paying my loans for 6 months, and I had a piece of paper that is somewhat respected in our society that may or may not help me get a job. Also the La Plantes were getting rid of a car and so how the scheme to drive across the country came up. Then what I thought was a casual relationship in January turned into having a confidant for the entire year- and it looks like for a while longer.
And for the first time I got to make my own decisions. I mean I think I am opinionated and stubborn enough that I have made my own decisions my whole life. But I really got to say I want to drive across the country and visit people and to wake up every morning know it was my decision which direction I would set out on.
And lucky for me the one job I still was waiting to hear from while adventuring, invited me for a weekend long interview. It wasn’t easy- it was soul searching to know if the Mission Internship was the right step for me. I didn’t want just a job- but was this what I wanted to dedicate three years of my life to. And the clarity came that this was something I could do and that I could connect to.
While this was the first year of my life I can remember not in school, it’s been a lot of field education. Even more than that I had the opportunity to teach for 6 weeks this summer with the Higher Achievement program. And I was challenged everyday by my students and by pushing myself. Luckily it was the most supported teaching program I could have gone into especially with no formal training. And as a teacher you are making decisions for much more than yourself, I was fortunate to have amazing colleagues and the opportunity to get to know the struggles in my student’s lives.
And then I prepared for the Mission Internship program. Originally thinking I was going to Mongolia. And truthfully my communication channels have changed so much in the past year that some people dear to me, may even think that is where I am. Then in September to learn I may not only be going to South Africa and working in Africa in general, but also I was going to the DRC, I was going to Congo. The history of the country and causes for the unfathomable violence took me to deep frustration in college. But it always seemed so far away.
Things still seem far away, but if I have learned anything this year- things aren’t as far away as you think. More important than that: I have never thought I needed to be rich. And have always agreed it is greater to be rich with friends and people than money. But this year I have been more than humbled in how true that is.
I said before this year I got to decide what would make me happy and head for the horizon. But I had options and the ability to make decisions only because of the rich tapestry of people around me. The people who shared or prepared meals for me. Those of you that made sure I had a pillow or just someone to check in with. For the people from literally all over the world that have shared stories with me. I never knew how rich I would be at my age and thinking back over the past year the rich tapestry of people that have surrounded me is almost overwhelming.
People from my past have resurfaced and family and friend connections have been amazing. My relationships with close friends has had to change, and especially the change of living with friends in college- but that DC family remains. My own family has been incredibly supportive as have my church family. And I am sorting out my family here, especially the family created through the other 11 young adults serving around the US and the world- especially the Jen and Rachel. I wish I could send the time to name you all, but every e-mail and conversation is flowing back to me just thinking.
And in the next year I think it will much more be my Africa year. Shaped by South Africa and especially work in DRC, Kenya, and Lesotho. Maybe this past year has been my wandering year- but in some ways I feel closer to all the key players in my life. I think I feel closer to myself.
And I am about to leave to go to a concert in Kirstenbosch gardens here to celebrate New Years. You know that song about old and new friends we sing on New Years. Well this year Rachel, my new friend and roommate, and I are going to meet Katie and Alex who are dear friends from DC and American University. And so I am excited to connect with different worlds to bring in this next year and to reunite with friend I ahvent seen in a year and a half. (I'll miss the Arlington Crew and all the fireworks and shannanigans!)
You see when I have less time, I just ramble - so thank you for reading. Maybe in 2010 I should work on being concise.
Also here 2010 is synonymous with the World Cup. !!! but that is a whole other blog.
Love to you all! Thanks for sharing with me and I hope you have a great adventure in 2010.
Cheers,
Hannah
31 December 2009
21 December 2009
Taxi
Well really it was a Cab (taxi’s or white taxi’s are more like mini buses that people cram into and go all over the place and I have not really figured them all out yet, but would like to)
A cab is more what we think of as taxi or a cab.
I think something most of us can agree with about traveling and taxi’s is that taxi drivers often have their own opinions and something about the cab driver customer dynamic makes it come out.
Rachel and I decided to take our first trip, our first overnight bus ride, and therefore our first cab ride in South Africa this week. We have some time off for the holidays and decided while we really want to see other parts of South Africa while we are here, we can only take so much time off work and most of our traveling and visiting other communities is with our work in Africa not in South Africa.
As a nature of that sometimes it is hard to focus on the history and South African society, because much of our work is a broader scope- so we really don’t know enough about the place we are living and the different cultures here. The three-day trip to Port Elizabeth really helped with some of this.
Port Elizabeth is indeed a port so it was also nice to relax and sit on the beach. Jen, who was staying with some friends in a different part of Cape Town and helping at the church there, had previously been to PE which helped set the context some. It has an interesting aparthied history. Kind of reminded me of going to Santiago de Cuba to get more of the history of the Revolution in Cuba. However, I think most cities here would have the same affect for how widespread the effects were.
Jen also told us of a good museum she went to there in New Brighton, which happens to be a very historic black township. We have really wanted to spend some time in townships with some people we know in Cape Town and where we have a feeding program with SHADE but the holidays have made it a bit difficult. We also have personal problems with huge tour buses going in and taking photos and leaving. And it was way too far to walk and not knowing anyone there we also didn’t want to be stupid- and all we wanted to do was see the museum.
When we brought it up to the woman where we were staying she didn’t even know about the award-winning museum in her town. But when we told her where it was she told us, “You can’t go there, you will die.” I wrote a shortened version of this story to my friend Julia and she brought up some good points asking if that was just because we were two young white girls from somewhere else that may just not understand everything and really stick out. This is always sort of the case, so we do try to be smart in how we travel and interact.
But the fact she didn’t even know about this museum dealing with a community in her home town that she was scared of and hence ignorant, did not exactly give me patience with her advice.
So we called a cab number we had and the dispatcher could quote me a price to get all the way there. Pat soon after came to fetch us. Pat was our Taxi cab driver who has grown up in PE and used to swim everyday. He also became sort of our older uncle watching out for us, even if he was a bit gruff. And was the same one to pick us up and then fetch us when we had to get to the bus the next day.
As we were driving into the township and then could view the museum he started talking about problems he had with the museum- which with his views on other things I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. But he said he didn’t like that they built this new expensive museum and the people living next to it didn’t even have running water. Which is kind of a good point in some respects. (Rachel and I had thought there was more community involvement based on what we had read.) But the way he said it he blamed the ANC for doing things like that and not taking care of their own people. That is what struck me.
At what point does someone living in your same town, in your community, in your nation become someone you care about. And it happens all over the world. If you don’t have a similar background as me its not my responsibility… Rachel and I talked about religious groups doing this, or the disparities in cities, or political parties and placing ‘blame’ and responsibility.’ And I remember during the election and inauguration people kept saying, ‘yes we did’ because President Obama got elected. But in fact in a democracy or anything you belong too, your only action is not voting, we should be active members in our communities. I am more of fan of ‘yes we will.’ That ‘we’ is a lot more powerful then all the complaining we do.
As this is very long I should probably write a whole different blog on the Red Location museum. We learned a lot about the Langa shootings, where a group from the new Brighton was trying to go to a funeral, that they were unaware had been ban, because Apartheid police found that funerals were becoming too political and could become an organizing tool. They also found crowd controlling weapons too insufficient so the order was cleared to use more powerful ammunition. And after they shot people, they placed rocks in their hands to show they had to control the riot. The number of people that died is still not completely known.
(from Nelson Mandela's journal where he wrote the first draft of letters, before editing them to write to send from Robben Island)
One of the exhibits was a photo essay of the forgotten people in the struggle for freedom. And I think it was a very powerful reminder of all the people that struggled for freedom and were involved in politics. And they are still facing hard lives and no work afterwards. Some of these leaders became members of parliament and have other positions of high respect, but there isn’t space for everyone and some had powerful stories of where life was taken them.
I think Rachel and I are still processing the museum especially with that much reading and that many stories.
But I am thankful we met Pat the Taxi driver. Because we got a lesson in PE and politics and South Africa and the debates between different cultures here- that you can’t get in any other forum but the back of a taxicab.
I could write a whole other blog on being on an all night bus ride. But we also enjoyed the people we met on the bus and waiting on the bus. I think I learned more about South Africa on the bus and in the taxi then the past few weeks living here.
This I just find funny, because when I traveled with the band in middle school and people asked what I played- I used to say the camera...)
A cab is more what we think of as taxi or a cab.
I think something most of us can agree with about traveling and taxi’s is that taxi drivers often have their own opinions and something about the cab driver customer dynamic makes it come out.
Rachel and I decided to take our first trip, our first overnight bus ride, and therefore our first cab ride in South Africa this week. We have some time off for the holidays and decided while we really want to see other parts of South Africa while we are here, we can only take so much time off work and most of our traveling and visiting other communities is with our work in Africa not in South Africa.
As a nature of that sometimes it is hard to focus on the history and South African society, because much of our work is a broader scope- so we really don’t know enough about the place we are living and the different cultures here. The three-day trip to Port Elizabeth really helped with some of this.
Port Elizabeth is indeed a port so it was also nice to relax and sit on the beach. Jen, who was staying with some friends in a different part of Cape Town and helping at the church there, had previously been to PE which helped set the context some. It has an interesting aparthied history. Kind of reminded me of going to Santiago de Cuba to get more of the history of the Revolution in Cuba. However, I think most cities here would have the same affect for how widespread the effects were.
Jen also told us of a good museum she went to there in New Brighton, which happens to be a very historic black township. We have really wanted to spend some time in townships with some people we know in Cape Town and where we have a feeding program with SHADE but the holidays have made it a bit difficult. We also have personal problems with huge tour buses going in and taking photos and leaving. And it was way too far to walk and not knowing anyone there we also didn’t want to be stupid- and all we wanted to do was see the museum.
When we brought it up to the woman where we were staying she didn’t even know about the award-winning museum in her town. But when we told her where it was she told us, “You can’t go there, you will die.” I wrote a shortened version of this story to my friend Julia and she brought up some good points asking if that was just because we were two young white girls from somewhere else that may just not understand everything and really stick out. This is always sort of the case, so we do try to be smart in how we travel and interact.
But the fact she didn’t even know about this museum dealing with a community in her home town that she was scared of and hence ignorant, did not exactly give me patience with her advice.
So we called a cab number we had and the dispatcher could quote me a price to get all the way there. Pat soon after came to fetch us. Pat was our Taxi cab driver who has grown up in PE and used to swim everyday. He also became sort of our older uncle watching out for us, even if he was a bit gruff. And was the same one to pick us up and then fetch us when we had to get to the bus the next day.
As we were driving into the township and then could view the museum he started talking about problems he had with the museum- which with his views on other things I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. But he said he didn’t like that they built this new expensive museum and the people living next to it didn’t even have running water. Which is kind of a good point in some respects. (Rachel and I had thought there was more community involvement based on what we had read.) But the way he said it he blamed the ANC for doing things like that and not taking care of their own people. That is what struck me.
At what point does someone living in your same town, in your community, in your nation become someone you care about. And it happens all over the world. If you don’t have a similar background as me its not my responsibility… Rachel and I talked about religious groups doing this, or the disparities in cities, or political parties and placing ‘blame’ and responsibility.’ And I remember during the election and inauguration people kept saying, ‘yes we did’ because President Obama got elected. But in fact in a democracy or anything you belong too, your only action is not voting, we should be active members in our communities. I am more of fan of ‘yes we will.’ That ‘we’ is a lot more powerful then all the complaining we do.
As this is very long I should probably write a whole different blog on the Red Location museum. We learned a lot about the Langa shootings, where a group from the new Brighton was trying to go to a funeral, that they were unaware had been ban, because Apartheid police found that funerals were becoming too political and could become an organizing tool. They also found crowd controlling weapons too insufficient so the order was cleared to use more powerful ammunition. And after they shot people, they placed rocks in their hands to show they had to control the riot. The number of people that died is still not completely known.
(from Nelson Mandela's journal where he wrote the first draft of letters, before editing them to write to send from Robben Island)
One of the exhibits was a photo essay of the forgotten people in the struggle for freedom. And I think it was a very powerful reminder of all the people that struggled for freedom and were involved in politics. And they are still facing hard lives and no work afterwards. Some of these leaders became members of parliament and have other positions of high respect, but there isn’t space for everyone and some had powerful stories of where life was taken them.
I think Rachel and I are still processing the museum especially with that much reading and that many stories.
But I am thankful we met Pat the Taxi driver. Because we got a lesson in PE and politics and South Africa and the debates between different cultures here- that you can’t get in any other forum but the back of a taxicab.
I could write a whole other blog on being on an all night bus ride. But we also enjoyed the people we met on the bus and waiting on the bus. I think I learned more about South Africa on the bus and in the taxi then the past few weeks living here.
This I just find funny, because when I traveled with the band in middle school and people asked what I played- I used to say the camera...)
11 December 2009
Music - it will always come back to music
At Blk Sonshine concert in Kirstenbosch with Vuyo (Kedi's cousin), Minicia, and some of Vuyo's family and friends. (ironically if you read the next blog, on of their songs is "Born in a Taxi.")
You see I only have one Christmas CD on my computer. Charlie Brown’s Christmas to be exact- and it’s a pretty good one if you only have on I guess for the background type music. So in order not to wear it out I tried to think of other music I could listen to while doing chores. A Nat King Cole song over- it led me to Ella and Louis (too bad I don’t have the Cole Christmas CD or the Harry Connick Jr one…)
So I am standing doing the dishes and Moonlight in Vermont is playing. And Vermont seemed fitting to think about and made me miss the Wilson family tradition of watching White Christmas. And I started thinking, who were these songs really written for and what are the social and status implications of all of this. And if music has an ability to touch everyone does it matter…
Of course I am one to think everything matters to some extent.
But as performers were they just working for an upper class to perform these beautiful songs. And performing for people that wanted to forget their own lives in the music, but also helped them forget the struggle music and performing comes from. And when is it okay to forget? But what if you just use it to promote your ignorance?
And so I am thinking about New Orleans, Cuba, South African townships and other places where music has come from. And where art and music have told a story that the world wasn’t able to see without touching a different part of a person’s soul. So as disappointed as I am at people using music to cloud over who is really performing and what is really happening- don’t the performers have a right to use it in the same way. And on the flip side it is so important to me that music and art have permeated differences and misunderstandings. I think hip-hop and rap is easier to use in some ways, because it can call out the social problems so clearly.
Anyway this is just me getting out some thoughts, especially in dealing with some of the social tensions in South Africa more poignantly this week.
Music crosses time and place and lets us share our emotions. In terms of church I know if I go into a United Methodist Church and sing certain songs I know my grandmother would have sung those same songs and feel connected. Or our first week at church here singing songs I learned in youth group or being a camp counselor. The connections through music are endless- but I think I was more worried about the exploitation that can come. I guess I feel like music is stronger than a lot of other places exploitation happens, and all the tricks that have been used to truly express things in music.
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