I Swear, If I Had Wings, I Would Have Flown

This week I had two life-changing experiences. The first was when I went to the top of Table Mountain and the second was in a township church.


Before I left for my trip, I wrote a poem called "Fly The Beloved Country", which expressed my feelings about finally being able to travel to Africa and about finding myself here. Up until now, I had been having an amazing experience, but none of which was spiritual... until I reached the top of Table Mountain. I stood on a cliff, which had no safety features, no barriers to protect me, and glanced at the city and ocean below. I literally lost my breath. It was then that I was filled with great happiness and understanding that this was where the earth, and mankind, began. It has been a theory of mine that the earth and man began in South Africa. There has been scientific evidence of bones discovered and people's DNA being closely related to Africans to back this theory up. It makes complete sense, in my mind, that this is the land Adam and Eve walked. Adam and Eve, the first humans who evolved from apes, of course. My beliefs felt confirmed as I stood cliff-side. I felt so free and connected with the earth and with God. I swear, if I had wings, I would have flown off the side of the mountain. My body felt weightless and I felt like I could have floated down to the earth life a feather. Leaving that spot was difficult- I crave to be there again. Remnants of those celestial feelings are still with me though, and I feel confirmed in my beliefs and closer to God.

I thought those feelings would return someday. I had them before when I was at the Omega Institute sanctuary years ago and knew since then, throughout my life, God would continue to send rays of knowledge and hope to me.

Who knew if would come just three days later.

My homestay at a Khayelitsha, the same township Baphumelele is located in, started as an uneventful trip. I was ushered in and out of the house on different excursions and felt like I really didn't get to experience township life since most of my time was spent at a BBQ place called Mzoli's or on a bus tour. On Sunday morning, my last day there, I decided to accompany my homestay mother, Eunice, to church to spend time with her. The prayers, in true African style, were sung with drumming and dancing. Hearing these older black women sing their praises in Xhosa, while drumming on their Bibles, filled me with the same ecstasy and understanding that I had experienced on Table Mountain. I felt the connection again. My thoughts went back to my Judaism and, even though I was in a church, I felt even more connected to my religion.

Table Mountain and the Khaylitsha church have changed me. I'm so thankful for those experiences and overjoyed that I felt the connection I was craving so much recently.

Welcome to Baphumelele, Time to Pull Out Your Hair

This week I started my volunteer work for a children's home in Khaylelitsha. Baphumelele, the home's name, was started by Mama Rosie, who "was disturbed to see young children going through the rubbish dump in search for food while their parents were away during the day, either at work or in search of work" (baphumelele.org.za). Her response was to set up a home for children who needed supervision, nurturing, and education. Although many of the children have parents, they, for one reason or another, are not being cared for by them.

I had no clue what I was getting into as the bus pulled up to Baphumelele. The drive had been through a poor township filled with hap-hazard shacks, children playing by the side of the road, and stray dogs running in and out of traffic. What I witnessed was poverty that I will probably will never see again. As we piled out of the van, children ran to us and started tugging on us to follow them. A scene of chaos ensued as the children ran to their schooling locations. Me and my partner, Maggie, chose to be with 7-8 year olds, which we thought would be a cute, but behaved group based on their age. We were sort of right.

The beginning started out alright with me going through a slide-show of the English alphabet and different animals that started with each letter. The children surprised me by knowing a fair amount of English words. Maggie and I had been warned before hand that the children's first language was Xhosa, and therefore may not know any English. The first hour passed without incident, but the second hour turned out to be a test of my patience and of my ability to control a crowd. It all started when I decided to break things up by doing a "freeze dance" contest, where I would play music and stop songs at random places; the children would then stop and "freeze". If they moved an inch, they were out! For this game, I had put together an extravagant South African playlist, which I was proud of. As I started playing Miriam Makeba though, the children begged me to play Michael Jackson. Thankfully, I had his greatest hits CD on my iTunes, which made the kids cheer. The game quickly got out of hand, and Maggie and I were sent scrambling for a new activity to keep the kids under control. One little boy started kicking another boy, making him cry. A girl decided the mayhem was beneath her and walked out to the house. I started feeling very panicky and racked my brain for any structured activity that I had done in my past. Fortune Tellers! Fortune Tellers are flower-looking thing made out of folded paper. Under different flaps one writes different fortunes. There is a whole game that follows picking numbers that correspond to different flaps- In the end, a flap is lifted and the fortune underneath is read to the person playing.

My second time at Baphumelele proved to be easier. We had a math day that included "Math World Cup", which was a play off of a math game called Math NHL that I played in 4th grade. Towards the end the group again got antsy and out of control. Instead of trying to think of something last minute, we just let the kids play outside on the playground. It was on the playground that I started to fall in love with the kids in my group. Kids started lining up to have me spin them, and I was definitely having a great time physically playing with the children. I have already particularly felt a connection with a boy called Ayenda. Although he is quite the troublemaker, he excels at English and in math, and has the best Michael Jackson dance moves.

I'm excited, but already stressed about my visit tomorrow. I'm hoping as time goes on, planning and allocating supplies for class will get easier and getting through the class time will be stress-free. Next class we'll be teaching the kids about Halloween in the U.S. and doing various activities such as mask-making, balloon ghosts, and bobbing for apples.

I can already feel as though I will have a strong connection to my kids and to Baphumelele by the end of this program. There will definitely be many tears of stress, frustration, love, and longing throughout my time here.

Muslim Women: Oppressed or Liberated?

Today in Cape Town, my group and I were given a tour of the old slave lodge where slaves from East Africa, Indonesia, Malaysia, and even Japan and China were kept. Our tour guide, Balqees, led us around the grounds explaining the journey and living conditions the slaves were forced into. The slave story meant a lot to her since her ancestors were brought to Cape Town because of slavery.

After our tour of the old slave lodge, Balqees, who is muslim, brought us to her mosque, which is the oldest mosque in South Africa. It is located in the Bo-Kaap part of town, which is the oldest cluster of homes in the area. This area can be easily identified because each house/building is painted in a bright color.

While touring the mosque, everyone was forced to remove their shoes. Women were asked to take a scarf and cover their heads as a sign of respect. We then were taught how, when, and why muslims pray. For prayer, women and men are separated. The males of our group were ushered to the front during the explanation. Having to wear a shawl when the men didn't have to, and being forced to the back during prayer made me wonder how oppressed muslim women are in their culture.

Balqees tried to dispel some myths about women in Islam. First she explained that she is not forced to wear her head-scarf- she chooses to wear it. For her, it was a garment given by God to women for protection against lustful eyes. She also explained that splitting the men and women during prayer was for modesty; the pose in which one takes is vulnerable, and only women should see other women's behind as they bend down for prayer.

These explanations, to me, only showed that there was indeed oppression against muslim women within Islamic culture. When she said the head-scarf was used as protection, my first thought was, "from what?" Men. Women have to wear shawls over their heads because being able to see too much skin could drive a man wild with lust. He might rape you. That seems like more of a scare tactic than a real form of protection. Also, I couldn't help being annoyed when the men were asked to go to the front during prayer. Of course, just like in an patriarchal culture, the men come before the women. I say this because this isn't unique to Islam- Orthodox Judaism, for example, also divides the sexes. In both cases, women either are sat behind the men or on the balcony. Both these locations in a temple or mosque are not ideal for prayer; women get cheated!

The last piece of info Balqees talked about regarding women in Islam really interested me though. She said that muslim women can go out in the world and get professional degrees and work at professional jobs. The money a woman makes is her own, which is different than her husband's salary, which goes towards the whole family. Balqees then mentioned that a woman owned the mosque and made sure that as long as Islam remained in the Cape, that particular building would be an Islamic place of worship. The female owner was married, but her husband had no say in what she did with the property because it was under her name.

In Islam, and in many other religions, one can look at the role of women in the culture and claim oppression. All I can say after my introduction with Islam is that the oppression of muslim women is not so black and white. What may seem like oppression to me, is considered liberating to muslim women. My visit to the mosque, and Balqees explanation, was an eye-opener when assessing my assumptions of muslim women and Islam as a whole.

Youth Day & the Soweto Uprising

Happy Youth Day! On June 16th, South Africans shut down their businesses and party in the streets to honour the youth of the country. Young people, and in particular the African National Congress (ANC) Youth League, containing great men like Nelson Mandela and Thabo Mbeki, helped to bring down the apartheid government.

Today marks the 34th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising. Soweto (SOuth WEst TOwnships) was a shanty town set up during apartheid for black individuals to move into. This area, which is located on the outer edge of Johannesburg, is still occupied today with poor black South Africans.

On June 16, 1976 in Soweto, thousands of black students marched and protested for days demanding equal education. The Bantu Education Act of 1953 not only segregated schools based on race, but also didn't provide the same type of quality education that white students were given. Black schools were also forced to teach in Afrikaans, which is a mixture of Dutch and African languages. Many were outraged at this because there was a general feeling that Afrikaans was the language of the oppressor. Young people had had enough, and sought to protest their education under the apartheid regime. A series of marches and protests took place that would make history. Students staged a march from their schools across Soweto, which was unbeknownst to teachers, police, and even some students ahead of time. The white police, in fear of the growing black masses, started shooting into the peaceful protest. After the first shots were fired, panic ensued and the police continued to shoot; when all was said and done, the officers had killed more than 500 people- most of them children. One of the only, and most famous, pictures of the Soweto Uprising is that of Hector Pieterson. He was a 12 year-old boy shot and killed by police. The photo shows his friend, and neighbour, carrying his body back as his sister screams in agony beside them.





The photo of Hector Pieterson and the reports of the Soweto Uprising set into motion a cataclysmic aftermath. More youths, in wake of the event, joined the ANC, which at the time was an underground rebel movement against the apartheid government; the ANC, before becoming the political party of South Africa today, actually overthrew the apartheid government in the early 90s. Before then though, they were seen as a black terrorist group to the white SA government. What also occurred in aftermath was that many white South Africans turned against the apartheid government- upset at their handling of people in Soweto. The most important event after the Soweto Uprising, which demolished the economy, was the international boycott against South Africa. These three factors, in the wake of the Soweto tragedy, were key components in bringing down the apartheid government.

So today, June 16th, South Africans commemorate the Soweto Uprising and the youth of the country that were so important in ending apartheid. Also, they celebrate the youth of today and where they'll bring the country-- making it a better tomorrow.

Feeling lekker about the Bafana Bafana? Blow your vuvuzela!

It has been a crazy couple of days. Today was the opening ceremony for the World Cup. Both matches, South Africa v. Mexico and France v. Uruguay ended in ties, which made for an interesting first night. I spent the afternoon outside the stadium watching performers, buying merchandise, and watching the Joburg (Johannesburg) opening ceremony on the jumbotron. It's great watching a country come together and celebrate their nationality. Evening individuals from other countries had their respective football jerseys with the South African flag painted on their faces. It seems as though the world is behind South Africa!


Some South African/ World Cup lingo one should know:
- Bafana Bafana: The South African soccer team
- Vuvuzela: Long plastic horn one blows through
- Lekker: "Awesome!" or "Great!"
- Soccer City: Johannesburg
- Rainbow Nation: A nickname given by Desmond Tutu to post-apartheid South Africa
- Zakumi: The yellow lion with green mane that is the 2010 World Cup mascot
- FIFA: Fédération Internationale de Football Association- The association that puts on the World Cup
-Rand: The currency of South Africa- About 7.7 rand per US dollar
- Football/Futbol: Soccer!

Ready To Take Flight

Beloved Country
by Tovah Blumenthal


Fly, the Beloved Country,
For I return again.
To walk on your pavements,
Feel your embrace.

I felt you in my bones,
Since the first beat of the drum.
A yearning not understood at such an age.

I didn’t know you were waiting for me.

So close now,
I can taste you on my tongue.
I’ve missed you without knowing you.

You’ve consumed my thoughts,
And my lungs.
Damn, you know how to lure a girl.

One in which is so lost,
So eager to find her people,
You have me believing you are my people.

Not by color,
Or by force,
But by feeling.

Centuries ago the Mother bore me,
And out I came, but did not stay,
But I am here now.

I do not expect open arms,
For I look like the enemy.

But only because you superficially judged me as such.

I am your daughter,
And though we have some catching up to do,
Embrace me, because I’m finally home.

Back in Eden.
Spreading my wings in the Beloved Country