What a day.
So I’m over 24 hours deep into my homestay (planning on
posting this tomorrow when I get internet). Yesterday I arrived at 3pm, and
although I had no been a bit nervous or anxious before arriving, as soon as we
entered the township and stopped talking about how our ridiculous last night of
drunken freedom in Cape Town for a while, the car became filled with
anxiousness. I was literally shaking, freaking out, biting my hand for relief
as I realized I had not thought about what I was about to walk into and had no
clue what to expect. We are staying in Langa township for the next three weeks
and all that I knew about it here before yesterday was a women on the mountain
(oh yeah I hiked Lion’s Head yesterday morning, funny how I’ve completely forgotten
about the most physical challenge of my life after being here for 24 hours)
telling me when I told her where we were doing our first homestay “Langa? Oh no
sweetie, you must be wrong, we (as in white people) don’t go there”. I
proceeded to explain to her that we were living with families and it was
through a program and I’m sure fine, still confused she asked “Oh but you’re
not sleeping there? Right?” I told her we were and left her with her shock
behind me on the mountain. Many others on the program have had experiences like
this with members of the Cape Town community. Although apartheid as a political
structure is no longer in existence, socially it is still palpable.
So I arrived yesterday afternoon to my new home, which is
beautiful, comparable to my apartment and I have my own room with a double bed
and futon! My room is adjacent to the bathroom and steps from the kitchen;
grandma is next door to me and then the living room. Nozuko, my mom, has her
own room in a separate house steps from my front door and then her brother and
his girlfriend and daughter, Lindithe, have their own mini-flat as well. We are
all inside the same gate though. Last night, after grandma and I chatted for a
little and she shared how happy she was that I was not a vegetarian, cause the
last girl was a pain and lazy apparently, so by eating chicken apparently I’m
already beating her (yes!). In the afternoon Lindithe and me went next door to
where Gaby is staying to visit our friends. Gaby’s homestay is literally a b
and b/ pre-school, with kids always coming in and out. Her mother is very old
and worked as an HIV/AIDS nurse for her whole life and in my thirty minutes
there told me countless stories of victims of the disease and a little insight
as to why it has spread so far. Apparently Mandela put in a law in the 90’s
that you either did not have to or made it taboo to share if you were infected,
and therefore children were born with it or blood transfusions were done and
the disease spread. The amount of death this woman has experienced is just
unreal. And she talks about it so casually; it just is almost too huge to
believe. I returned to my and went with Lindithe and her mom, Lindiwe, to a
fruit stand a.k.a supermarkette and Lindiwe made roasted chicken and salad for
dinner- delicious. Then Lindithe and I colored with my new pencils for a little
while and 8:30 rolled in and I was fast asleep. Fast forward 12 and half hours
later and I woke up. An INCREDIBLE night sleep and one I could not have needed
more considering 12 hours is what I got total at our 4 nights in the amazing
Cape Town hostel.
Oatmeal for breakfast, delicious again (I was quite nervous
about the food situation and my pickiness so I am really just thrilled at every
meal that I can ingest and enjoy). Although it was raining and freezingggg, we
left for church at 10. Now if you’re getting bored reading this is not the
place to sleep, because my five- yes five- hours at church today was
indescribable. Literally I have been thinking about all day how I am going to
articulate my experience and I am just speechless. I can explain to you the
events, but the feeling of being there, listening to the songs, watching the dancing
and members interact is not able to be put into words. After arriving and being
stared at by everyone, as I was the only white person in the church, and
greeting many members and friends of grandma’s, the service began. About an
hour into the chosa readings and songs, a man came over to my seat in the
middle of the service and asked not to be offended, but if I was from South
Africa or somewhere else, I told him I was from America. He returned to the
right side, where all the men sit, to the first row, talked to someone and then
returned to me, asking me to come with him as the Reverend had requested I sit
next to him. All the ladies around me ooh and ahhed and so I went. The Reverend
is the first speechless portion of this experience, one of the nicest, most
honest men I have ever met. He asked me what I was doing here, for how long I
was in Langa, when I arrived, when I would be in South Africa until and with
whom I was living in Langa. He explained to me how much they love having
visitors and how by being at this service I was getting a true African
experience- as today was a holiday and all the women were dressed in
traditional chosa garb and a meal was served, with is not a weekly thing as I
had thought. He explained that, although when they asked the visitors to stand
up a bit later, he did pick me out because it is rare to see someone with light
complexion in this church. He also made some sort of comment regarding how much
more welcoming black people in South Africa are to other cultures, which could definitely
be true, I was just taken back by how straight up he said it. I sat with him
and the other male leaders in the front row for the rest of the service and he
translated most of it for me. They were working on fundraising for renovation
the building, built in the 40’s with fold up chairs and few decorations- this
was no stained glass windows, velvet seats situation. Just a large blank room
with a podium, chairs and colorfully dressed women and men with huge hearts,
tons of spirit and faith in god. He also got up towards the end of the service
and welcomed me in front of the whole congregation, probably 100ish people, and
thanked me for experiencing and being a part of a real African tradition. He
was so honored to have me there, when I was more honored for them welcoming me
into their traditions and weekly ritual. After sitting again, they began
bringing in barrels of liquid, which he told me was African Beer and had I ever
had it. I said no and they all chuckled and said “ok, you must try it when you
sit back with the ladies”. All the men then sat in circle on the floor in the
front of all the chairs by the podium in the front, passing around these,
essentially, empty paint barrels with creamy, purplish-coffee colored foamy
liquid inside and chugging straight from them. Then one barrel was brought to
the front of the rows filled with women and began being passed down. But
honestly the men each chugged this stuff for like 1-2 minutes before passing to
the next man. The women would take more like large sips. Then it got to me and
although I was not nervous about trying it, cause it honestly looked like a
chocolate egg cream, as soon as I lifted the barrel to my face and smelt the
sour milk stench I took in maybe a tablespoon before passing it. It was nothing
like a chocolate anything and when I told everyone I thought it would be sweet
they laughed. It was so sour and bubbly and kinda beer like in the wheaty
taste, but not enjoyable at all. I then viewed the men chugging with tons more
respect. Next they began passing around the BEST BREAD I HAVE EVER HAD- I know,
all I do is exaggerate- I kid you not it was perfect. Crusty, warm and sticky
inside, sweet and salty and just absolute perfection. I was served before
anyone else, but then continued to be offered them and had around 3, but
honestly could have eaten them all day. Next me and Julia, another visitor,
were taken to the back house, where we were put in the dining room and brought
the meal. This was the low point for the day- it was my first encounter with
the food here that I just could not even smell, let alone swallow. It was a
large plate full of pap, this corn/ potato mixture that is kinda like mashed
potatoes and corn mixed together, but very bland. They serve it with
everything, and it either comes chunky or creamy- this was chunky with whole
pieces of corn. It was topped with a greenish-brown colored oily textured gravy
and boiled meat on the side. I tried to pick at the pap not touched by gravy
but it was so bland and sticky I couldn’t eat more than maybe half a cup- which
I divvied into about 50 bites so it looked like I was eating. I was humiliated,
fortunately it was just me and Julia and no one else. But I tried to touch the
meat, which was I believe a piece of liver or heart and lung or something that
looked like a shriveled up piece or coral, but was grey and tough. I eventually
got the guts up to put a piece of the heart like meat with lots of pap
surrounding it into my mouth and immediately gagged. I just couldn’t stand the
flavor and as soon as I bit into the meat, which was much like creamy jello, I
thought I was gonna puke. I then just tried to swallow it all in as few gulps
as possible. It was pretty awful and Julia noticed I wasn’t eating it and asked
if I ate meat, to which I responded not a lot and so she took the rest of mine
which was AMAZING! So it could have gone worse but was definitely a lesson and
still kind of traumatizing. Then the reverend came and got us and brought us
back to the church where everyone was just cleaning their plates of this meal
and we finished the service and collecting donations. They surpassed their
goal.
All in all, it was a wonderful experience and I would love
to go again next week. It would have been nicer in English but I loved
listening to everyone sing and watch them dance around the two aisles.
We then came home to Lindiwe watching TV- that movie Please
Give with Catherine Keene and Lake Bell was on which I have wanted to see
forever and it set on the Upper West!- and ate dinner- grandma and Lindithe
hated the food at church also! They said its gross and you just have to eat it
to be nice, I was so relieved. We had chicken and rice for dinner, delicious
again and a great banana. Me and Lindithe then went to the shop across the
street for milk and ran into Olivia and her sister Tina- I was so overjoyed to
see her, literally we just squeezed each other. Tina was there buying
electricity for their house- ??? Then came home to watch Idols SA, which was
Rolling Stones top 500 night and drank delicious tea. I don’t know why but I am
just so surprised how similar and simple the day was. I never expected to just
have so much in common with them, but like on a cold, rainy Sunday at home I
would lie on the couch and watch TV and drink tea until bedtime too. Right now
I am basically a 9/10 in terms of happiness in my homestay. Everything really
has been great, no negatives besides just being kind of uncomfortable to know
what I can do in terms of getting food for myself, if I can leave my toothbrush
in the bathroom and what to do all day. This entire experience is just very
overwhelming, because it is just so incredibly different from anything I have
ever done or seen, but I think I might just be expecting too much craziness and
this is just like any other house- the parents work, kids go to school, we eat
dinner and go to bed. The 1/10 that is missing is for discussion and
connecting- no one has asked me anything about myself, hometown, family,
interests, anything. Lindithe and I looked through some pictures on my computer
tonight and listened to some Katy Perry- that was until she found Rachel Zoe in
my TV shows and insisted on watching, she didn’t like it, but we’ll just ignore
that for now. I can see it being a challenge of having homework or wanting
alone time and having her always being so adorable and wanting to hang out. But
that’s really everything for now. It is already had such an impact on me and it
has only been a day. Although I don’t agree with the woman on the mountain
being so against us staying in Langa, I can see why she reacted as such because
it is an all black township and the members stare at me as soon as I walk
outside, am sitting in the car or buy something at the stand. This is definitely
ballsy of SIT and I hope so much that everyone else is having good or even
better experiences at their homes. This is extremely challenging and out of my
comfort zone so I can easily see how it could be too much for some of the group
members to handle, so I hope they are all ok.
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