The wall has fallen

So the writing block has officially come to an end. I have a hundred thoughts in my head that I want to put into writing, now there is just the challenge of separating them all and structuring them into something that will be conceived as logical by those who read it.

To update you all I am writing this from the staff room of the Bambino school in Lilongwe, Malawi. What am I doing in Malawi? Well my stay in South Africa is coordinated by the Pioneering Committee and they are at this moment undecided as to whether I stay in Port Elizabeth until the end of my stay in May 2011 or if I move north to Polokwane and start all over again there until May 2011. So I'm in limbo, unable to start any new activities in PE incase I have to pack up and leave but also unable to start in Polokwane incase I don't have to go and with the school year in SA now at a close all my activities in that area have also come to an end.

On Friday the 26th of November we had a wonderful graduation ceremony for all the kids in our Children's Classes and Junior Youth groups in Kuyga. It was so nice, we invited the parents of the kids to come too and I made cake for everyone. The kids performed and we gave them certificates. Really lovely way to bring to close activities for the year. So with that Lunathi and I decided that instead of spending the month of December on holidays doing nothing but bludging and spending money we would go on service. Somehow someone said Malawi and so here I am.

Here I am.. but where is Lunathi? My wonderful little friend failed to realise that her passport expired and it wasn't until we were at the check in counter of South African Airways at O.R Tambo airport that the lady behind the counter brought our attention to a little detail called an expirey date which happened to be in June of this year. So Lunathi will be arriving tomorrow and had to organise an emergency passport in the meantime. I am here, in some ways enjoying being on my own as it offered some break time for me to reflect on myself and when she arrives we will begin running daily junior youth groups and children's classes.

Quick story that I will share before heading off.. As a result of traffic and some 100000 people waiting in line to check in the only available seats on the plane were middle seats. I was praying that the two people who would be on either side of me would be small or women and instead I had two of the world's biggest men on either side of me and one who would not stop fidgetting. I was tired, annoyed and frustrated and I seriously wanted to cry in hopes that a flight attendant would feel sorry for me and move me to business class. To make matters worse we were one row behind the emergency exits. I could see the leg room, so close yet so far. I sat there hoping that I could endure the next 2.5hours when God, as if listening to the thoughts in my head, answered my prayers. A man and his 2 sons came and sat in the exit row seats, looking at the boys I knew they were too young to sit there and the flight attendant confirmed this. They had to swap seats. Immediately I jumped up and said I was happy to swap and take on the responsibility of guarding the exit door in the unlikely event of an emergency. I took the aisle seat, stretched my legs out, asked for the beef and enjoyed a very pleasant flight to Malawi.

Will be in touch when I have consistent internet access which unfortunately thanks to both MTN and Zain communications does not look like it will be any time soon.

Ta ta

There is nothing sweeter in the world of existence than

The title of this post comes from a quote from the Baha’i writings written by Abdu’l-Baha, the eldest son of the founder of the Baha’i Faith, Baha’u’llah, and His successor after His passing. Abdu’l-Baha says “There is nothing sweeter in the world of existence than prayer.” It was in the shower at a friend’s place that this quote came to mind. As I was enjoying the force of the water against my back, the temperature exactly where I wanted it, hot enough to make you sweat but at that point where you can just tolerate it, I thought to myself how much I enjoyed showering. Now this may come across as an odd or insignificant thought to have and even writing about it now I feel almost silly to have had such passionate feelings about a shower but for the past 4 months that I have been living in Port Elizabeth I have been showerless. The family that I live with has a shower but it happens to be broken and so they use the bath. Doesn’t sound like that big a deal right? Both were designed to provide the same outcome and both utilise water in the achievement of that outcome so bath/shower what does it matter? Yeah, that’s what I thought the first night I arrived at my new home. We went through the general list of queries that we had for each other; Is there anything I can’t eat? How do we schedule who does the housework? Where is the washing machine? Then I got hit with this question... “When do you prefer to bath?” I replied “I like to shower at night” and then the revelation that would alter a vital part of my existence for the next 4 months... “Our shower is not working so we use the bath” BOM BOM BOOOMMMMM!!!!!

Towel in hand, geezer switched on, water running I locked the bathroom door in preparation for my first bath. Yes of course I have had a bath before, when I was a kid my parents would put me and my sister in the bathtub with lots of bubble bath and we would put the foam on our faces and heads and pretend to be old men but in my adult life I have never taken a bath with the intention of getting clean afterwards. Baths have been a once a year occurrence. Buy some bath oils, light some candles, enjoy 20minutes of nothing while almost dosing off as the steam of the hot water fogs up the bathroom mirror. That was my fond, tranquil, relaxing memory of bath time pre South Africa but now... I filled up the bath tub and got in, ok so far so good. The same pattern as having a shower I got my body scrub and scrubbed my body. Once I was finished with that process I began to notice something that disturbed me. I was sitting in a bath of water filled with the stuff I had just washed off of myself. Hmmmmm, strange, I had always thought the purpose of a bath was to get clean, how can you get clean if you’re stuck in the stuff you just washed off? I left that bath feeling less hygienic than I did before I got in. Even when I have my relaxing baths at home I still shower before and after the bath to wash everything off. I was faced with the prospect of having to endure this horrific process every day for the next 4 months and I did. There have been times where I have wanted to hire a hotel room just to use the shower. Anytime I go to visit a friend who has a shower I always come prepared with shampoo and conditioner in hand ready to take advantage of the opportunity to really feel clean. So as I stood at my friends house, under the shower, my first shower in just over a week a thought came to my head..”There is nothing sweeter in the world of existence than a shower” I began to think about the other things that I have learnt to appreciate since being away from home, since moving away from a first world western society to a third world developing country.

I have covered one of those things and now plan to reveal some more of them to you...

Hugo

Hugo is the name of my 1993 Honda Civic who is sitting at home waiting for my return. And no it’s not so much my particular car that I miss but just having a car. The independence that it offers, the freedom, the comfort and convenience. Yes having a car means your wallet drains much faster than it usually would as petrol and maintenance eat all your money but still all the traffic in the world is still better than relying on public transport.

When I get home, it doesn’t matter how many trees suffer as a result of it, I am driving everywhere. At least for the first couple of weeks then I’m sure I’ll go back to my beloved CityRail.

Mum’s Cooking

It’s true, no one can cook better than your mum and my mum is an amazing cook. I think that when I get home I will gain so much weight as I eat enough to compensate for a year without her food. Speaking of food though I have definitely improved my cooking skills. I have to say they’ve gone from a -5 to around a 3. I learnt how to..wait for it.. boil and fry an egg AND I made lasagne AND I have cooked meals using whatever there is in the house and it actually tasted good. Pretty impressive I know.

Food in General

The following are foods that South Africa is deprived of and I can't wait to go home and eat them all...

Seafood Laksa

Hungry Jacks Whopper

Starbucks

Boost Juice

All work and no play

I actually miss having a job, the kind that you earn money from. There's a certain comfort in knowing you have a consistent stream of money coming in. Also I've really come to realise how easy it is in Australia to find work and to make money. Working as a casual at Woolworths Supermarket I was earning $22 an hour. In South Africa the same job would earn you R14 an hour, that's less than $3. Things are usually relative, you live in a country where you earn $2 a day but that $2 can buy you a whole week of groceries but South Africa isn't like that. A loaf of bread costs about R8 or a taxi ride from your house to the shops costs R5. Minimum wage here is not relative to the cost of living which although is much lower than what it is in Australia it is still too expensive for the people living here. So as much as I complained about going to work before I am really grateful that I can go home and earn money so that I can continue to gallivant around the world.

Family

This one is pretty standard and I think very much expected. You really never realise how great your life is until you leave it behind. I miss home and my family and my friends. Not to say that there aren't families in Australia who neglect their kids or have issues but really seeing some of the things I've seen here, the way kids are raised, I am so grateful for my parents and what they offered me in life.

When I was home all I wanted to do was get out and travel and now that I've been gone for a while I am having huge cravings to be home again. I want my bed and my backyard my kitchen, all those things back. I miss hearing my little brother laughing to himself as he replays Youtube videos in his head. I miss the way my mum smiles when I see her. I miss my dad's awesome jokes and how he's always the first and sometimes the only one to laugh at them. I miss my big fat cat Chicky and the way her belly wobbles when she runs to the kitchen at the sound of food.

It's hard sometimes being so far from the people who support you, who know you and who you can turn to whenever you may need them. I have so many stories for my family and friends at home and sometimes I want time to go faster so that I can finally get home and tell them all.

The last thing on my list is the one that Abdu'l-Baha wrote Himself

There is nothing sweeter in the world of existence than prayer

Really I have learnt so much about prayer while I've been on this trip and although I always knew its importance and always used it now I have found another connection with prayer. Like I said before it can be really difficult to be so far from your support group but in those times when you feel all alone, completely isolated and helpless there is one channel of communication that is always open. A support system that never closes down and that is through prayer. I think sometimes we forget that we aren't really ever alone and I am starting to remember that more and more.

I have learned a whole lot about myself and still have 6 more months of learning left. You can only imagine how much wiser I am going to become! :)

My next block of learning will come from some service I am going to do in Malawi. I will be there for about 3 weeks helping with teaching activities, junior youth groups and children's classes as I wait to see what my plans will be in South Africa in the new year.

Will and the Indians

In the last 2 days that I have begun writing again I have started 3 blog posts of which I have only been able to finish 1. What I've realised is that I don't feel like writing about myself, every time I start writing about something too much related to myself I just stop part of the way in and move on to something else so I decided that until this phase (and I hope it's a phase) ends I will just have to write about people that aren't me.

This one goes out to Will and the Indians. It's a band for which my little brother plays the drums and what I'm about to say is not completely based on the obvious bias I have towards anything involving my brother but is also based on the facts and those facts are that this is a really amazing band.

Besides the fact that they make music that is way more mature than their age (they started the band at 15.. they are now 16) I admire more than anything their amazing determination and dedication to something that they love. These 4 boys being Will - lead guitarist and singer, Kabir - guitar, Michael - bass and my brother Matin - drums, have shown a maturity and responsibility for their music that I have never been able to master. Even more amazing is that all of them with the exception of Will are fairly new to music. They have been playing for a couple of years and for the most part have been learning their instruments as they go.

Really what I want to do is share what they have created. Baha'u'llah says "We, verily, have made music as a ladder for your souls, a means whereby they may be lifted up unto the realm on high" (Baha'u'llah, The Kitab-i-Aqdas, p. 38)

These boys have tapped into a creative stream that has the potential to elevate the soul and I am so proud of them for that. All of us have been given gifts and potentials and we can only hope that we utilise those gifts to fulfil our potentials, I believe that these boys are doing just that. They make good music, music that I put on my ipod and listen to and get stuck in my head and start singing at random occasions throughout the day and I'm proud of them for that. There's nothing more satisfying than seeing someone you love achieve something great and every time I think of my little brother, my baby bro I feel so fulfilled. He makes me want to do better, want to achieve more. It's crazy to admit but I actually look up to him (right now he's probably thinking literally, yes he is taller than me too haha).

So here I go.. sharing this because that's what you do when you have something amazing in your reach, you share it with others.

Facebook

Facebook2

myspace - this is where all the music is at

And this video is the boys in the train doing one of their songs A Capella - "Cold Weather". Although I don't know who the kid is with the long blond hair on the left.. he's not in the band

Inspiration

Although I had always planned to write this piece my mum had made a special request that I write about the Junior Youth group we established at Kuyga school so that she could send it in to the monthly Australian Baha’i newsletter. I have been mentally formatting how I would write about it, what I would emphasise and how I wanted it to feel and I was planning on writing it in the next few days but today I saw something that inspired me so much that I feel like it deserves to be written about first.

About an hour out of Port Elizabeth is an area called Addo. Addo is mostly known for its nature reserves mainly Addo Elephant Sanctuary which is popular with the tourists. Addo is very much a rural area, the type where you can drive for kilometres and only come across one house, a small petrol station and a general store. Addo also has a township and like all townships the environment is the same, the roads are the same, the houses are the same, the social and economic issues are the same and so you can imagine the opportunities for service that there are in this community. Now in the whole of Addo including all the farm houses and the township there is only one Baha’i. One girl named Asanda. I had heard of Asanda a few times but only met her a couple of months ago when she came to P.E to attend our Baha’i Society function. Today Asanda held an end of the year ceremony for the kids in her Baha’i Children’s Classes and she had invited the Baha’is of Port Elizabeth to come as well. Lunathi and I decided to go down to Addo and help her out with running the function.

We set up the chairs in the hall, Asanda had invited the parents of the kids to attend and she had estimated about 100 participants in total. We had drinks, hot dogs and desert enough for 100 people but saying a number like 100 and then actually seeing it are two very different things. Into the hall walked 50 kids, they sat on one side of the hall, the youngest in the front, the older kids in the back, all dressed up in their pretty dresses or their nice pants. Asanda stood in front of all the kids, owning their attention as we awaited the parents to arrive. I stood there in shock, standing behind the seats of the last row of kids, witnessing one girl conducting 50 kids. Each child sat patiently in obedience to the request of their teacher. Asanda would request a song that they had learnt and a choir of children’s voices would fill the hall.

Completely alone in this community what Asanda has achieved is a testament to the power of the individual. Asanda works full time, she lives at the Elephant Sanctuary where she works which is a 15min drive away and she does not have a car and yet she has still found the time to run two children’s classes with more than 50 kids in total. I was truly amazed.

One portion of the program saw one of the parents stand up to talk about how they felt having their child in the class. This woman stood up and said that she was so proud of what Asanda was doing that at her church she would request all the other church goers to send their kids to Asanda’s class. I was really inspired by what Asanda has achieved there in Addo. The support she receives from the parents and the adoration that you see in the eyes of the children for their teacher goes to show that even if you are the only one standing your single light can penetrate so far that it can illumine a whole town.

It was so wonderful to be part of that day and to spend time with these beautiful children who were not only exceptionally well behaved but also amazing dancers. At the end of the program a dj came and you should have seen these kids. It was funny because at first I went around recording the kids dancing and then when I joined in the mothers started recording me dancing on their phones. They were so impressed with my moves.

The program ended with the children reciting 3 prayers which they had learnt and Asanda finished with the following prayer. What she has achieved in Addo is helping guarantee that these kids receive exactly what this prayer requests.

O God! Educate these children. These children are the plants of Thine orchard, the flowers of Thy meadow, the roses of Thy garden. Let Thy rain fall upon them; let the Sun of Reality shine upon them with Thy love. Let Thy breeze refresh them in order that they may be trained, grow and develop, and appear in the utmost beauty. Thou art the Giver. Thou art the Compassionate.

- 'Abdu'l-Bahá

uninspired

So from the title of this post I think you can maybe get an idea of what I'm going to write about. For me writing is my release, it's the way I express myself, it's my story. Everytime I write I empty out a little bit of myself into each word so that each sentence, each paragraph forms a picture of who I was at the time I wrote it. When I write I am imprinting a moment onto the page and that moment is me at that time. I love writing exactly for the sake of this, I feel like I am finding out about myself through my words, I'm writing a textbook on me.

My imprint, the stamp of myself at this moment is the title of this post; uninspired. I just haven't felt like writing. South Africa has started to grow on me and I think my constant exposure to all its sides has numbed me from the extremes it projects. The poverty, the wealth, the racism, the injustice, all of it. I am numb, completely desensitised and it has impacted on my writing.

Strangely enough before my inspiration fizzled I wrote a blog post that I have yet to put up because I wasn't sure about it and decided to approach it from a different angle but I haven't even been motivated to do that. This doesn't feel like writers block although it could be something like that.. Hopefully it will end soon and I will make up for the time that I haven't put anything out.

Until then I'm off

My life is like..

This one’s more for my friends and family at home who might want to know what I do with my life here in Port Elizabeth so I’ve decided to go day by day and update everyone on what my life looks like on each day. Let us begin with what I consider as the start of the week which is Monday.

Mondays at the moment are my free day. I spend this day sleeping in, going for a jog, writing up reports or lessons, shopping...etc Mondays are also usually meeting days for the Baha’i Society at NMMU so I also end up travelling to the university for those sort of things as well.

Tuesdays are my favourite day of the week because that’s when the Rockstars get together. This is our weekly Junior Youth Group at Kuyga school with 40+ participants. This week there was a total of 62 participants including the animators. That’s because on Monday I went to the school and talked to the grade 8 kids about Junior Youth Group and how we need more animators, 21 kids put their hands up to become animators and 17 of those kids attended the Junior Youth Group to get a feel for it and help out. The Rockstars also have their own song and this week they had all gathered in the classroom before we got there and were singing the song together. As we approached the room we could hear this choir of 10-15 year old voices all singing their song, some showing off their dance moves, in anticipation of our arrival. It was such a successful session. We started at 1pm and went till 4pm.

After our jy group Bayan and I go and visit Aziz who is a pioneer from Kenya. He is also a teacher but works at a different school and we are hopefully going to start Ruhi Book 1 with some of the students from his school on Tuesday afternoons as well.

Tuesday nights we have a weekly devotional at my house.

Wednesdays see me temporarily changing residence to another Baha’i family’s home, the Anvaris. First off at 2pm I have a Book 1 with 3 boys from the university, Ndaba, Sanda and Zuko who are friends of some of the Baha’is at the uni. Then I head over to the Anvari’s where I do Baha’i classes with Anise(11years). I spend the night at their place until...

Thursday where I go to the university to prepare for the Baha’i Society’s weekly deepening session and after attending that deepening I spend the night with the youth who live near the university. Also if you read my post called the Basement Project you would know that every second Thursday I go to an open mic event for poetry, hiphop, rap, music and any other type of arts you can think of.

Fridays we have our weekly devotional gathering at the university and the Baha’i society meets to plan future events and things.

Saturdays are also quite hectic and spent almost entirely in Kuyga. I tutor a book 1 at 11.30am then another book 1 at 1pm and try and squish a book 4 somewhere in this day also.

Sundays the community hosts a weekly devotional/deepening which we attend. Generally over the weekends as well I go out with the youth.

So there you have it that’s what my life looks like. Soon there will be an additional book 1 which will include our new Baha’i Basil as well as some friends of the Anvaris and Monday night yoga sessions with a wonderful lady named Aunty Shanty who teaches yoga for free as a service to the community.

PHOTO TIME!!

One of our many fruitful Baha'i Society meetings..
Aviwe
Lunathi
Bayan drinking her tea and Luvuyo trying to sleep

Tuesdays with THE ROCKSTARS


Nthabisang and her group(14years and older)
the other half of Nthabisang's group
Zintle with her group(12-13years)
Sibahle and her group(10-11years)
One of the grade 8 boys Xolani helping out

Sibahle and some of her girls
The animators: Bayan, Nthabisang, Zintle, Sibahle and me :)

The Anxiety of Happiness

Have you ever had a moment where you hear or read something and it is almost as if it was written for you? Like where you feel like the world is crumbling around you and you have nowhere to turn and all hope is lost and then you see a billboard that says “Is your world crumbling around you, do you have nowhere to turn and all hope is lost?” and you stand there almost completely certain that the billboard in front of you was designed with you in mind and that it was all part of some strange plan that you would come across it. The other morning I was woken by my phone buzzing to say that I had an email. It was from my big sister Melody who had sent me a quote and I had an above mentioned moment. Although at the time I decided I would go back to sleep, reading it later I felt like this quote was talking to me and the fact that my sister sent it to me was even more amazing. Have you ever had a song stuck in your head and then the person next to you starts singing it so you tell them “I have that song in my head now and I was even up to the same part that you started singing”? It’s like you are in tune with each other. That used to happen to me and my sister a lot when we were kids and now it’s the same except that instead of having the same song in our heads we have each other in our heads and when I read this email and I read the quote she had sent to me I felt like she was reading my mind.

So now that I’ve raved on about this oh so amazing quote let me explain it. Before I tell you what the quote was I’m going to explain a concept to you so that everything that will proceed will actually make sense to you. The concept of service is one that shouldn’t be foreign to any of us. Doing something for other people without any regard to yourself or any want for recognition, praise or payment is not unique only to the Baha’i Faith, it is a concept that exists in our world and there are so many in our society who participate in acts of service. The Baha’i Faith encourages service to the point where we should have the spirit of service in everything we do be it our jobs, school, hobbies and amongst our family and friends but going on a year of service is another thing all together.

As I have explained before in the Baha’i Faith we have what’s called a Youth Year of Service where youth are encouraged to give at least one year of their lives to the service and betterment of humanity. Now one thing that differs from service in general and service in the Baha’i Faith is tests. Not tests like a written exam or anything that can be marked or graded by someone I mean tests like life tests that ultimately make us stronger as people, tests that come from all different sources that force us to improve ourselves or that we learn something from. These tests are a part of service because life is all about growth and although we are being tested in our own lives every day we know that in the path of service there are even more tests. Although this may seem like a bad thing it actually isn’t. If tests lead to growth then we can come to the conclusion that the more we are tested the more opportunity we are given to grow and so tests are actually a good thing and those who stand up to serve the Cause are being blessed by being given even more tests and so more opportunity for growth. So although service is about the betterment of others everything in a way leads back to us and although we serve without the desire for praise or reward, tests which can be likened unto a gift, are bestowed upon us and so in the end we do benefit personally from service. God only tests us to the level that our capacity can sustain, we will never be tested by God if we cannot handle that test so during our time of service we are faced with many challenges and difficulties which we must learn to overcome so that we can progress. Now following the same train of understanding if we say that tests are like a gift and we receive more tests when we are serving God then we can think of the act of service itself as a gift also. Service leads to tests, tests lead to growth so service leads to growth. In that light service, which is always intended to be of benefit to humanity, is also of benefit to the individual who is serving and as service is an act which is undertaken voluntarily and with sincerity then the individual who is serving should know that no matter what happens and what goes wrong everything is actually making them stronger and that they should be grateful for the opportunity.

That’s the theory of it. We serve because we want to, service leads to growth therefore service is a gift and while undertaking service we should be happy in the knowledge that anything that goes wrong is contributing to our personal development. Sounds good but now for the practical.

Tests are hard, service is hard, life generally comes with hard times now imagine a whole year where you are being given hard times for the sake of your own growth and you feel like you don’t have the right to complain because when you serve you undertake this act knowing full well that service is not about you, you have forsaken your own self for the sake of others, you knew it would come with tests and you know those tests are for your own good so deal with it. That’s what it feels like and every time you want to talk about it people tell you the same thing, service comes with tests it’s not supposed to be easy. Do you know how that makes you feel? If you don’t let me answer that for you, it makes you feel guilty for feeling bad, you feel annoyed at yourself every time you have a thought about packing your bags and going home, you feel disappointed in yourself for not being happy and joyful everyday for the opportunity to be participating in the creation of a better world you feel regretful for every complaint that you make. That’s how you feel. That’s how I felt until I read this quote which my sister sent me and now I will finally reveal it unto you...

"To be required to be happy and assured, while busily serving the Cause, can raise in us more than a little anxiety. The Faith brings each one of us crises as well as victories. Our own lives and even the lives of the central Figures of the Faith have been fraught with agony as well as blessing, with failure and frustration and grief, as frequently as with progress. This is the nature of life...

To rise above the disappointments, obstacles, and pain which we experience in serving the Cause is difficult enough, but to be called on, in doing so, to be happy and confident is perhaps the keenest spiritual test any of us can meet. The lives of the Founders of our Faith clearly show that to be fundamentally assured does not mean that we live without anxieties, nor does being happy mean that there are not periods of deep grief when, like the Guardian, we wrap ourselves in a blanket, pray and supplicate, and give ourselves time for healing in preparation for the next great effort.

(Compilations, Quickeners of Mankind, p. 116)

Do you see now what I mean.. she read my mind AND this extract from the Baha’i writings is talking to me!! The relief I felt when I read this I can’t even explain. The saying I felt a weight lifted off my chest would definitely be appropriate for my circumstance. I mean just read it again.. “to be required to be happy...while serving the Cause, can raise in us more than a little anxiety”... “nor does being happy mean that there are not periods of deep grief.” It’s ok for me to have bad days, to be disappointed, to feel upset and annoyed, it’s ok if I don’t relish in the joy of being tested whilst serving the Faith or if I feel overwhelmed by all the things that go wrong. It’s such a relief!
To explain one thing the Guardian who is mentioned above was the great grandson of Baha’u’llah who was the Messenger of God who established the Baha’i Faith. Shoghi Effendi whose title was the Guardian was given guardianship of the Faith after the passing of Abdu’l-Baha (the son of Baha’u’llah) who was the head of the Faith after His father passed away. All three of these central figures of the Baha’i Faith suffered tremendously for the sake of their Cause. Baha’u’llah was exiled from His home by the Persian government and was a prisoner for 40 years alongside His family including His son Abdu’l-Baha all because of the new Faith that He was exalting. We as Baha’is are always told to follow the example of these central figures who devoted their lives to establishing this new Faith and to the betterment of humanity. That’s where the guilt can arise because nothing we go through in our lives can compare to the hardship that Baha’u’llah faced, my issues are meaningless when juxtaposed to the trials that Abdu’l-Baha dealt with, the hard times that I face seem pitiful next to the stresses and anxiety of Shoghi Effendi. So whenever things go wrong we’re told to follow their examples and it seems like I should never have anything to complain of because comparatively it’s not nearly as bad. But then I read that quote and it redefined everything. Being happy does not mean that you never feel grief and like the Guardian, Shoghi Effendi, I know many days where I have wanted to cover myself in my blankets and just try and recover.

Everyone of us faces different trials in their own lives and even our paths of service will never all be the same. There is no textbook on how to deal with life as we all have to write our own manuals and my manual will not be sufficient for someone else’s life but we can share experience and understanding and hope that in some way someone else can benefit from what we’ve been through. This is what I’ve experienced; feeling misunderstood, alone and without support. You know loneliness is an amazing thing, it doesn’t matter how many people are around you you can still feel completely alone. That isolation comes from feeling unsupported and without anyone to lean on rather than physically being alone. Making new friends is one thing but it never compares to the family and friends you have at home and the time differences don’t help with trying to stay in touch. Living with a new family has it’s complications as well especially where there are new cultures involved, it’s easy enough to say you want to embrace the culture of a country when you don’t know what the culture is and that’s what I was like but it’s not so simple especially coming from a western country. There’s the problem of money and the lack thereof which requires a change in lifestyle because you suddenly can’t afford to live like you used to, living in a country like South Africa where the crime is so high means you have to forsake some of your control in order to be safe. You can’t come home whenever you want to, you can’t go to certain places alone, there is minimal public transport so not everything is easily accessible and some things aren’t accessible at all and so a lot of the time you’re trapped in your home which adds to the loneliness because this only happens at night and evenings here are like 3am in Australia so I can’t even call my friends and talk.

It is hard and I know it’s meant to be hard but now I also know that it’s ok for me to admit that and it’s ok for me to complain and it’s ok for me not to be happy all the time and that in itself makes me feel better.

I really just wanted to share that quote because it meant so much to me and hopefully anyone in the same position can feel the same relief that I experienced. Service comes with tests, tests lead to growth therefore tests are a gift so service is a gift and we should be happy for it but tests are not easy so service is not easy and they can make us feel unhappy but happiness does not mean that we never feel bad so it’s ok to feel down sometimes because even those whose examples we are told to follow felt down sometimes and that’s all part of the package. That’s my conclusion.

The Basement Project

The last few weeks have been very busy hence the lack of a new blog post but good news is that I got my application in to Home Affairs so hopefully that will be approved. It does mean one less stress on my mind. The Kuyga junior youth group is going really well. We had 48 kids come to the last session and we got all our Afrikaans kids back so it is a mixed group again. We split the group up by age so the 10+11 years olds together, the 12+13 year olds together and the 14+ group is together. We still have two 8 year olds that we don’t know what to do with, they just sit and observe at the moment. The kids have called themselves the Rockstars and we even have our own song. So that’s my very brief update on things just to keep everyone informed what follows is my latest blog post...

Those that know me know I love the arts. I visit galleries constantly, I studied a degree in design, I did a life drawing class with Archibald prize winner David Fairban, my lecturers have exhibitions that tour internationally and one of my design works has even been published in a book. Although it doesn’t always come naturally to me I love the arts. Photography is my art style of choice, I prefer black and white film photography as it is all about the process. You control each moment from taking the picture to developing and it’s more hands on which is what I prefer. So in Sydney I know where all the art galleries are and not just the big name ones, all the smaller, less mainstream galleries as well. Even if Sydney isn’t considered the cultural capital of Australia it still has a lot of culture, it doesn’t matter what part of it you’re in you can always find something.

Naturally one of the first things I did when I came to Port Elizabeth was look for art galleries and art classes. Now keep in mind that the internet here isn’t what it is in Australia, you can’t just google search something and find all the information you need. I really struggled to find art galleries here. I figured that if I could just find one then that could lead me to any others. Luckily someone came into my life who unlocked the door of the arts in Port Elizabeth. Sicelo is a music student at NMMU (the university here) and he came along to one of our Baha’i Society meetings to help us with the musical event we are planning. We got talking and he invited me to what he called an open mic night at some cafe. I was like ‘this sounds cool, I want to go’ so Sicelo said he would pick me up and we could go together. OMG he completely didn’t do justice to this event, it was insane. The event is called the Basement Project and it happens at Coffee Cafe every second Thursday. It’s not really a cafe but more of a large room with some couches at the back. We got there and immediately I could tell that Sicelo is a regular because he had to say hello to like everyone there. We took a seat and the program got underway. It was open mic in the sense that anyone who wanted could come up and share whatever it was they wanted to share be it music, poetry, dance, art whatever. It wasn’t open mic in the sense that there was no microphone. The place packed out, people were sitting on the floor and lining the walls and there was no lack of talent either. I mean I was blown away by some of the stuff people were doing especially the poetry. Honestly there were people who performed who were so skilled with the written word that they could have started a rebellion if they wanted to. Absolutely amazing.

One thing I did notice was the political and racial tension in people’s expressions. Art is a form of true expression and it is a form of emotional release so when every single performer stood up and spoke about the injustice white man had served them, the corruption of this government, the power that the black people needed to reclaim you can see that this is what is bearing down on these people. At one point the program stopped and the floor was opened for a discussion on Heritage Day which was on the next day. Heritage Day or Braai Day is a public holiday dedicated to the remembrance and honour of South Africa’s heritage. The opening remarks went something like this “Heritage day is just a creation by the white man to make us think that they care about our past. Everyday should be heritage day, every day we should be honouring our past and bringing back our culture not the white man’s culture which has been forced on us.”
It was then that I realised I was the only ‘non-black’ person in the room.. So of course I put my hand up drew attention to myself. I asked if the people have accepted a new heritage since the end of Apartheid and Mandela’s election or is there still conflict and tension amongst the people? This discussion happened very early in the program, clearly my question was answered with the onslaught of performers that would follow but the answer I got was that no the only heritage that counts is the one that they had before white man. This country has a long way to go. There were some counter arguments, one guy said that the people had to create a new identity because the white people aren’t just going to disappear this is their home now too and there won’t be any progress if we keep the mentality that we want things to go back to the way they were before they came. He also put forward a very sensible question which was “Culture changes, would you really walk around town topless and just wearing a piece of cloth to cover your parts, is that really what you want back?”

So after the discussion the performances continued, it was both a wonderful and very dangerous atmosphere. Honestly by the end of that session if I didn’t have such a strong mind I could have easily started resenting white people as much as they did. These artists have such a strong and powerful way with words, the speak with emotion, what they say arouses the audience, it’s so easy to fall into what they are saying. One Rastafarian guy even stood up and said “White people in the room you better suck on your sour lemon because the black people are in charge now” I waited, knowing that I was the only person in the room that could be considered white, hoping he wouldn’t give me direct eye contact as if that statement was made just for me. Luckily he didn’t and I laughed along with everyone else. I managed to talk to a few people about their work and got some details. I hope to put up some transcripts of some of the poetry as it really is amazing stuff and if there’s one way you can see the pain of a nation you see it through its art.

I left the session inspired and uplifted. Not to hate white people just in case you were concerned. I mean I call myself a writer but the only poetry I’ve ever written has been for laughs, I write these odes when I got bored.. maybe I should share one with you one day. I was inspired to write proper poetry and when I say poetry I don’t mean that how now brown cow kind of stuff I mean like the stuff that later becomes rap music but before it gets all commercialised and turns into some idiot telling the world how many girls he gets and how much weed he smokes. I wanted to write a piece about South Africa and the racial tension but I think I’ll wait till I have a few more friends because I’m afraid I won’t come out unhurt if I do it now. For now I’ll just write about myself which is the only thing I have any authority on. I’ll put up a test piece when it’s done and then I’ll let you know how it goes once I’ve performed it.

So I finally have my artistic energy source and from it I know I’ll find so many others. I will put up any work that I get off other artists because it really deserves to be shared.

Ps this is one of my shortest blog posts in a while.. you can thank my killer headache for that

Cry, the Beloved Country

There was a time whilst here that I was resentful towards South Africa, when I couldn’t understand how an entire nation of people could hold so much pride for a country that offered them so little. I couldn’t fathom the standards of a government that could allow so many people to live in homes that would not be fit for animals in most other countries of the world. It didn’t make sense that the people didn’t fight for better lives for themselves.

Everywhere around me I could see injustice, I could see inequality, I could see discrimination. People were treated differently because of who they were. I could sense the tension still resinating amongst a generation of people who saw Apartheid and were punished for the darkness of their skin.

Instead of democracy the pendulum has swung to another extreme. Where black men were previously unable to progress in the fields of government it is now the white man that struggles to get ahead. Pushed to the bottom of the ladder as society overcompensates for the transgresses of the past.

The laws of segregation have been abolished and South Africa has accepted to unite but segregation does not need to be enforced by law if the people are willing to segregate themselves. White with white, coloured with coloured, black with black. Observing the people this is what you see, this is what they choose. Although perhaps unconsciously these new generations follow the same patterns of the past and only when prompted to answer why do you see that segregation is all they know.

When a society cannot function as one, when it replaces one type of injustice with another, when the people are unable to stand on their own two feet and create better for themselves then progress in unattainable.

The world was shown an image of South Africa during the World Cup, this image was of a nation labelled as third world hosting a first world event. A picture of a clean and friendly South Africa where crime was not to be feared, where people could enjoy the city lights without anxiety. The world was shown a nation that could work together and a people that could unite in support of their country regardless of their background. We witnessed a government that was able to fund a billion dollar event, able to distribute this money into projects that would benefit the community, focussing on creating infrastructure whose use would surpass this single event. A government that could prove that South Africa was a capable and proficient country. This was the image, an image that most South Africans feign to remember.

We saw what South Africa could be, a teaser of what we could have but we don’t. We were shown that crime could be controlled but it isn’t controlled now. We had a taste of what efficient government departments were capable of but they aren’t efficient anymore. We saw how funding for roads and transport transformed parts of the city but that funding is now gone.

When you see what South Africa could be, when you see what South Africa was then and when you see where South Africa is now you feel frustrated, you feel disappointed, annoyed, upset, angry. We have seen what South Africa could be, we saw this only months ago and we wonder why can’t we have that?

It was so hard for me to try and understand this country. This country should be better but it’s not, it should be safer but it isn’t, it should be cleaner, it should provide more to its schools, it should offer better health care to its peoples, it should take better care of its streets, it should, it should, it should but it doesn’t and I couldn’t understand why.

In my dismay my mum offered me an opportunity for insight; “Cry, the Beloved Country” a novel by Alan Paton. This book resolved my resentment, this book calmed my anger, took away my disillusionment. For that reason I want to share some of it with you, these are the parts that for me answer all of my ‘whys?’ and although it doesn’t offer any resolution for my disappointment in this country it does offer understanding and with understanding comes patience and patience is exactly what I need. So here I offer you the opportunity for insight into a country whose problems stem so deep that it will take such a great effort to resolve them.

*

“What we did when we came to South Africa was permissible. It was permissible to develop our great resources with the aid of what labour we could find. It was permissible to use unskilled men for unskilled work. But it is not permissible to keep men unskilled for the sake of unskilled work.

It was permissible when we discovered gold to bring labour to the mines. It was permissible to build compounds and to keep women and children away from the towns. It was permissible as an experiment, in the light of what we knew. But in the light of what we know now, with certain exceptions, it is no longer permissible. It is not permissible for us to go on destroying family life when we know that we are destroying it. It is permissible to develop any resources if the labour is forthcoming. But it is not permissible to develop any resources if they can be developed only at the cost of the labour. It is not permissible to mine any gold, or manufacture any product, or cultivate any land, if such mining and manufacture and cultivation depend for their success on a policy of keeping labour poor. It is not permissible to add to one’s possessions if these things can only be done at the cost of other men. Such development has only one true name, and that is exploitation. It might have been permissible in the early days of our country, before we became aware of its cost, in the disintegration of native community life, in the deterioration of native family life, in poverty, slums and crime. But now that the cost is known, it is no longer permissible.

It was permissible to leave native education to those who wanted to develop it. It was permissible to doubt its benefits. But it is no longer permissible in the light of what we know. Partly because it made possible industrial development, and partly because it happened in spite of us, there is now a large urbanized native population. Now society has always, for reasons of self-interest if for no other, educated its children so that they grow up law-abiding, with socialized aims and purposes. There is no other way that it can be done. Yet we continue to leave the education of our native urban society to those few Europeans who feel strongly about it, and to deny opportunities and money for its expansion. That is not permissible. For reasons of self-interest alone, it is dangerous.
It was permissible to allow the destruction of a tribal system that impeded the growth
of the country. It was permissible to believe that its destruction was inevitable. But it is not permissible to watch its destruction, and to replace it by nothing, or by so little, that a whole people deteriorates, physically and morally.

The old tribal system was, for all its violence and savagery, for all its superstition and witchcraft, a moral system. Our natives today produce criminals and prostitutes and drunkards, not because it is their nature to do so, but because their simple system of order and tradition and convention has been destroyed. It was destroyed by the impact of our own civilization. Our civilization has therefore an inescapable duty to set up another system of order and tradition and convention. It is true that we hoped to preserve the tribal system by a policy of segregation. That was permissible. But we never did it thoroughly or honestly. We set aside one-tenth of the land for four-fifths of the people. Thus we made it inevitable, and some say we did it knowingly, that labour would come to the towns. We are caught in the toils of our own selfishness.

No one wishes to make the problem seem smaller than it is. No one wishes to make its solution seem easy. No one wishes to make light of the fears that beset us. But whether we be fearful or no, we shall never, because we are a Christian people, be able to avoid the moral issue.”

*

“The truth is that our Christian civilization is riddled through and through with dilemma. We believe in the brotherhood of man, but we do not want it in South Africa. We believe that God endows men with diverse gifts, and that human life depends for its fullness on their employment and enjoyment, but we are afraid to explore this belief too deeply. We believe in help for the underdog, but we want him to stay under. And we are therefore compelled, in order to preserve our belief that we are Christian, to ascribe to Almighty God, creator of Heaven and Earth, our own human intentions, and to say that because He created white and black, He gives the Divine Approval to any human action that is designed to keep black men from advancement. We go so far as to credit Almighty God with having created black men to hew wood and draw water for white men. We go so far as to assume that He blesses any action that is designed to prevent black men from the full employment of the gifts He gave them. Alongside of these very arguments we use others totally inconsistent, so that the accusation of repression may be refuted. We say we withhold education because the black child has not the intelligence to profit by it; we withhold opportunity to develop gifts because black people have no gifts; we justify our action by saying that it took us thousands of years to achieve our own advancement, and it would be foolish to suppose that it will take the black man any lesser time, and that therefore there is no need for hurry. We shift our ground again when a black man does achieve something remarkable, and feel deep pity for a man who is condemned to the loneliness of being remarkable, and decide that it is a Christian kindness not to let black men become remarkable. Thus even our God becomes a confused and inconsistent creature, giving gifts and denying them employment. Is it strange then that our civilization is riddled through and through with dilemma? The truth is that our civilization is not Christian; it is a tragic compound of great ideal and fearful practice, of high assurance and desperate anxiety, of loving charity and fearful clutching of possessions.”

*

“Have no doubt it is fear in the land. For what can men do when so many have grown lawless? Who can enjoy the lovely land, who can enjoy the seventy years, and the sun that pours down on the earth, when there is fear in the heart? Who can walk quietly in the shadow of the jacarandas, when their beauty is grown to danger? Who can lie peacefully abed, while the darkness holds some secret? What lovers can lie sweetly under the stars, when menace grows with the measure of their seclusion?”

“I say we shall always have native crime to fear until the native people of this country have worthy purposes to inspire them and worthy goals to work for. For it is only because they see neither purpose nor goal that they turn to drink and crime and prostitution. Which do we prefer, a law-abiding, industrious and purposeful native people, or a lawless, idle and purposeless people? The truth is that we do not know, for we fear them both. And so long as we vacillate, so long will we pay dearly for the dubious pleasure of not having to make up our minds. And the answer does not lie, except temporarily, in more police and more protection.”

*

“Some cry for the cutting up of South Africa without delay into separate areas, where white can live without black, and black without white, where black can farm their own land and mine their own minerals and administer their own laws. And others cry away with the compound system, that brings men to the towns without their wives and children, and breaks up the tribe and the house and the man, and they ask for the establishment of villages for the labourers in mines and industry.

And the churches cry too. The English-speaking churches cry for more education, and more opportunity, and for a removal of the restrictions on native labour and enterprise. And the Afrikaans-speaking churches want to see the native people given opportunity to develop along their own lines, and remind their own people that the decay of family religion, where the servants took part in family devotions, has contributed in part to the moral decay of the native people. But there is to be no equality in church or state.

Yes, there are a hundred, and a thousand voices crying. But what does one do, when one cries this thing, and one cries another? Who knows how we shall fashion a land of peace where black outnumbers white so greatly? Some say that the earth has bounty enough for all, and that more for one does not mean less for another, that the advance of one does not mean the decline of another. They say that poor-paid labour means a poor nation, and that better-paid labour means greater markets and greater scope for industry and manufacture. And others say that this is a danger, for better-paid labour will not only buy more but will also read more, think more, ask more, and will not be content to be forever voiceless and inferior.

Who knows how we shall fashion such a land? For we fear not only the loss of our possessions, but the loss of our superiority and the loss of our whiteness. Some say it is true that crime is bad, but would this not be worse? Is it not better to hold what we have, and to pay the price of it with fear? And others say, can such fear be endured? For is it not this fear that drives men to ponder these things at all?

We do not know, we do not know. We shall live from day to day, and put more locks on the doors, and get a fine fierce dog when the fine fierce bitch next door has pups, and hold on to our handbags more tenaciously; and the beauty of the trees by night, and the raptures of lovers under the stars, these things we shall forego. We shall forego the coming home drunken through the midnight streets, and the evening walk over the star-lit veld. We shall be careful, and knock this off our lives, and knock that off our lives, and hedge ourselves about with safety and precaution. And our lives will shrink, but they shall be the lives of superior beings; and we shall live with fear, but at least it will not be a fear of the unknown. And the conscience shall be thrust down; the light of life shall not be extinguished, but be put under a bushel, to be preserved for a generation that will live by it again, in some day not yet come; and how it will come, and when it will come, we shall not think about at all.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

*

The last passage I share with you inspired me, gave me a little push in terms of my own service in South Africa. I have often wondered what brought me here. What brought me to this place that I couldn’t understand with all its problems, problems that don’t just linger in the air but effect every movement you make, every word you speak, every person you meet, every place you go. In everything that is South Africa there is Apartheid. It’s name may be gone, it’s laws and regulations and the power they took from one person and gave to another, these may no longer be but the memory of it is embedded into everything that is South Africa. This country needs service, it needs leaders, it needs change. I don’t know if I can give it these things that it needs, I don’t know if I am any help at all but I am here and I will keep trying..

“Therefore I shall devote myself, my time, my energy, my talents, to the service of South Africa. I shall no longer ask myself if this or that is expedient, but only if it is right. I shall do this, not because I am noble or unselfish, but because life slips away, and because I need for the rest of my journey a star that will not play false to me, a compass that will not lie. I shall do this, not because I am a negrophile and a hater of my own, but because I cannot find it in me to do anything else. I am lost when I balance this against that, I am lost when I ask if this is safe, I am lost when I ask if men, white men or black men, Englishmen or Afrikaners, Gentiles or Jews, will approve. Therefore I shall try to do what is right, and to speak what is true. I do this not because I am courageous and honest, but because it is the only way to end the conflict of my deepest soul. I do it because I am no longer able to aspire to the highest with one part of myself, and to deny it with another. I do not wish to live like that, I would rather die than live like that. I understand better those who have died for their convictions, and have not thought it was wonderful or brave or noble to die. They died rather than live, that was all.”

Spiritualise

I would like to dedicate this post to all of those wonderful people who have decided to dedicate themselves to the education of children. It is such a noble station and the work of an educator can never be paralleled by any other. Teachers build the foundation of our future societies. In the field of academic education most teachers spend more time with children than their own parents do. It is amazing how a good teacher can help transform a child and it is something that I know personally. To this very day I credit so much of myself to my kindergarten and grade 2 teacher Mrs Edwards. To think that a woman who last taught me when I was 7 could have contributed so much to the person I am today is really saying something about the power of an educator.

Teachers are in no way given the credit they deserve, they should be the most respected members of our communities because they work with our most precious resource but unfortunately we have a misguided society and that credit is rarely paid.

In the Baha’i Faith we believe there are 3 types of education and the dedication to children to foster any of these 3 types of education is equal in station. These 3 are mental, physical and spiritual education. The Baha’i Faith has in place systematic means of offering spiritual education which is education directed to the development of morals, the understanding of prayer and meditation, virtues and spiritual qualities and the building of capacity within oneself. As I have spoken about it before we have the Junior Youth Group Program. This is a socio economic program which is targeted towards kids aged between 11 and 15. Its purpose is to create an open environment where these kids can find more noble goals to work towards and find a place where they can be inspired by positive examples to help them be able to stand on their own two feet during those turbulent years of adolescence. The group works through a book, each lesson is aimed at helping with reading and comprehension thus advancing literary skills as well as bringing up concepts that require elevated conversations on different themes. The first book “Breezes of Confirmation” brings up the theme of confirmation. It stimulates discussions based on the idea of knowing what you’re doing is the right thing to do. It brings up this topic in terms of deciding what you want to do with your future and what steps you have to take to get there. For example if what you want is to study at university the book challenges you to look at what you are doing to make that happen but it also creates the understanding that if you want to achieve something and it is right for you then God will help you, doors will open and opportunities arise you just have to be able to see those opportunities and take advantage of them.

So why am I bringing this up again and why the sudden desire to praise our educators? Well today, after a few weeks of strikes and deportation from the country, I went back to Kuyga school to re-establish our Junior Youth Group. For those who want to know what happened the first time refer to my post Kuyga’s Finest. The first time was just me and Sibakheh and those 44 kids and it was amazing. The Afrikaans and Xhosa kids all getting along and happy to come together to be part of one group. It was so amazing but, but, but, but... it was a fun lesson. We went there purely to introduce the Junior Youth Group to the kids. We did an art activity and we talked for a bit and played sport and took photos. It didn’t need much in terms of coordination, it doesn’t take much to get kids to draw and play sports so it was easy.

YOH YOH YOH!!!! Today, today I realised how difficult, how straining, how exhausting the work of a teacher is. Today it was me, Bayan, Ponthi, Sibakheh, Zintle and Nthabisang and 40 kids. I was like 6 of us 40 of them too easy. YOH YOH YOH!!! Wow the things you don’t think of, the effort it takes, the logistics, the coordination. Man oh man that was some seriously insane stuff, eternally rewarding and wonderfully inspiring, but seriously insane stuff.

So here I will share our experiences running a JY group with 40 kids, how it went, what we learnt and what our plan is for the future so that perhaps if anyone else has the opportunity to do something like this they can get a little understanding from here.

School has been on strike for 3+ weeks. I asked Sibakheh and Zintle, sisters who attend the school, to keep me informed of when the strike would end so that we could start our jy group again. Monday I get the call, Tuesday it’s on. My plan is to get to the school half an hour before school ends so that I can go to the grade 5 classrooms and remind the kids. Unfortunately when you have to rely on taxis for transport time is completely out of your control. So I get to the school within minutes of bell time and I’ll just tell you something funny, when they ‘ring the bell’ for the end of school they actually ring the bell. A kid is sent around the school with a thing that makes a ‘clank clank dong dong’ sound and he walks around donging and clanking to signify the end of school. Hilarious and slightly disappointing as the school doesn’t even have the means to ring a real bell.

So schools out, I am trying to get in touch with Sibakheh to tell her to race to the grade 5 classrooms and make sure the kids don’t go home. Her phone is busy. I see a group of kids “What grade are you in?” “Grade 5” “ok go back and tell all the grade 5 kids we have class today.” Yay for the plan. Now as I am kinda considered a ‘white person’ I tend to draw a lot of attention in the townships especially in the school. Within a few seconds I have a heard of kids surrounding me, just staring at me, waiting to see what I’ll do next. Bayan is with me and she laughs “Everyone is saying come and see the white girl.” I mean really there are white people all over this country I don’t see how I can be that big of a deal, and I’m olive not white.

So me and my heard head towards the grade 5 rooms to gather our posse and start our class. There are a lot of kids here but something’s wrong. Where are all the Afrikaans students? I assume we are going to be using the same classroom we used the week before which was an Afrikaans room. I’ve already seen the Afrikaans teacher and he says its fine to use his room, then one of the Xhosa teachers tells me we should use her room instead. I ask her where the Afrikaans students are, she says they don’t really like to participate in this sort of thing and we should use her room because people might talk if we use an Afrikaans room with all these Xhosa kids. I’m so confused, so, so confused. Last time the Afrikaans kids were fine, they were happy and excited and they all said they wanted to come back and be part of it. The whole group was happy and now instead I get this and I feel hopeless and sad because I really thought we could change that whole us and them mentality and break through the cultural barrier. I guess we need to just keep trying.

40 kids manage to squish themselves into this classroom. There are a bunch of kids here that weren’t the first time so we start with a recap and a re-introduction to the jy group. Now it is time for the girls to take over the group, me and Bayan are just here to help them out but it is supposed to be their group. I ask them to start off by working with the kids to create some rules for the group. These 4 girls stand in front of the class and silence. They don’t talk, the kids don’t talk. They look at each other, they look at me. The kids look at them, the kids look at me. Oh dear. So I push things along and eventually we have our group rules, my rule is always the best; have fun or I will give you a beating. Now we distribute the books to each kid and open up to start the first lesson. We have decided that since it’s the first lesson we will conduct it as one big group so that the kids can get a feel for how things go. Ponthi volunteers to lead this section and everything starts out smoothly. We read the story a few times different kids in the class getting a turn to read then we move on to the exercise. This section asks questions about the story and you write down the answer. Usually takes a maximum of 10min. Half an hour later and we are onto question 5. Here we notice a problem. There are some kids in the class who need things to go slowly so that they can keep up and there are kids in the class who have raced ahead and have already finished the entire activity. Everything in this book is supposed to be done as a group so we read out the questions, the kids tell us what they think the answer is and when we agree on an answer we write it down together so the fact that some kids have finished everything shows us that they are getting bored because it’s too easy for them. Now what do we do with them? Bored kids means distractions, you can’t expect them to sit there and do nothing. At first I ask a few of them to walk around and help the others with their answers or with passing around the eraser or sharpener which are both in high demand. After a few minutes I see that this isn’t working and there are more kids who have finished the activity. I decide that I will take them outside and move on with the next activity giving the other kids the time they need to complete it and with less kids inside it would be easier to manage. So we go outside and it’s working or so I think. Turns out that the kids inside now feel like they are being left behind because they want to be in the outside group and so they start rushing ahead so that they can be part of the ‘other group’.

Two groups have emerged, the inside group and the outside group. I can’t think of what else we could have done. The inside group are painfully slow at completing the first activity but soon we realise why. There are two 8 year olds sitting in the class. We have 40 kids with an age range from 8 to 17. Some kids in the room aren’t even in grade 5, they just wanted to be part of whatever it was we were doing so they decided to come too. We decide the best thing to do is to have a ‘help your neighbour’ policy so anyone that finishes a question should help anyone around them who hasn’t finished yet. This speed things up especially when we ask the outside kids to come back inside and help too. Finally it’s time to move on to the next activity but not before allowing the group to stand up and do something fun so Bayan plays a little game with us all which is actually hilarious and I can’t wait to play it with everyone in the world. Then we move on.

We spend around 15min on the next exercise, this one isn’t as tedious and I change it around to make it more fun by getting kids to draw instead of write things so it doesn’t take as much assistance either. We decide that it would be better to leave the book part of the class at that as it’s been over an hour that we’ve been sitting at desks. I read out a list of names I have of kids that came to the first class to see who’s new and who dropped out and I have a lot of fun trying to pronounce the names. We take down all the kids birthdays so we can get a better understanding of the age group we are dealing with before pulling out the soccer ball and netball which makes the kids go crazy. Everything in a jy group has purpose even sport so I ask the girls who understand netball to facilitate that and me and Bayan try to organise the soccer game. The point of sport is about unity, you work together with your team mates to achieve something.

So as the kids play me and Bayan step back and evaluate the chaos that just occurred. First of all 40 kids is way too much to achieve the purpose of each exercise and to ensure that all kids are taken care of. First things first we have to find a way to divide the group. We decide to do it by age and allocate a different animator to each age group so 10-11 in one group 12-13 in another group and 14+ in another group. I’m not sure what we’ll do with the 8 year olds just yet who are way too young to understand the content of the book. Next is ensuring that these girls can stand on their own two feet even if me and Bayan aren’t there. Now in all fairness to the girls they are new at this and it is a lot of kids. Especially for Sibakheh who is only 13 herself. So we will give them time to develop their confidence and we decided that next week me and Bayan are really going to take a backseat and let the kids see that the other girls are in charge. Another issue is food. School ends at 1pm and our class today went till 3.30pm. That’s a long time without food especially for this age group. We have to think about providing something for the kids but it has to be small otherwise they will expect too much from us and it could interfere with why you come to the class. Next is establishing a structure. We need to ensure that there’s a pattern that is followed. You come inside, we take a register of who’s here, we recap on the week before...etc Another thing that I need to do is find a way to inform the parents. We don’t want kids to misuse the jy group saying that they are attending after school and then doing something else instead, with a smaller group we would accompany them home but I think the best thing we can do is guarantee a finishing time every week so that parents expect their kids home at a certain time. Unfortunately in the townships parents aren’t really concerned with where their kids are, I mean this is the second time that I’ve run a class at the school without letting the parents know. Their kids haven’t turned up at home in over 2 hours since school ended and not one parent came to the school to inquire about their child.

So basically what we learnt from this experience is that a group this large should be divided into smaller groups when doing the activities because you can’t offer each child the attention that they need when the group is so big. Also with such a vast age group kids are going to work at different paces so we have to ensure that no one gets bored waiting for someone else to finish. Have lots of short games on hand for when the class gets restless to give them a quick break so that you can carry on with a bit more energy. It’s hard to learn everyone’s names and to identify different personalities in such a large group. This makes it much more difficult to try and remember which kids needed more help and which were self sufficient. These kinds of observations are really important for the smooth running of the group in the future so maybe take notes on the child’s appearance or take a photo which is what I’m planning on doing and be willing to make fun of yourself in order to break the ice.

Today was so hectic that although I brought my camera I didn’t get a single chance to bring it out, there was just too much going on. It was a whole lot of fun though, as always I loved every minute of it. At one point a did dust angels on the floor to try and show the kids there’s nothing wrong with sitting on the ground. They still refused and just told me it made me dirty... which it did but that’s not the point.

I’m still really excited, I can’t wait for Tuesdays. I literally have to dedicate the entire day to this group, I spend the morning preparing, the afternoon conducting and the evening resting. I can’t wait to see how this group progresses and see if by having almost an entire grade going through this program it changes the atmosphere of the school and the community.

At the end of the class I again reminded the kids to come up with a name for our group, one boy said Spiritualise. I don’t think it’ll stick but I thought that was nice.

Townships

Remember when I said that South Africa can continue to shock you no matter how long you’ve been here for, well today I felt it. Another shock and I’ve been here almost 4 months now.

I’ve spoken about Kuyga, it is the township that the Baha’is in P.E are currently focusing on. Well Kuyga and townships in general shocked me. That the governments solution for the poor was to build them a crummy little shoebox where sometimes 10 people were living inside was very shocking to me. Seeing the way people lived in this township, driving around on a Saturday morning and in ever front yard was people sitting around getting drunk, the fact that there are more liquor shops than grocery stores, that children wander the streets completely unsupervised sometimes even carrying their younger siblings around. In my experience of life whenever a child wants to hold a little baby parents are so protective of the baby. “Sit down and I’ll put baby in your lap, careful of her head, put this arm like that and your other arm there, very good. Awww look how cute, now give baby back.” Here if you are old enough to walk you are old enough to care for your younger siblings. I guess you could look at it as a sign of maturity that a 7 year old knows how to take care of a baby but I’m not so sure. So Kuyga is bad according to my standards of how people should be living. The streets are dirty and by the way all made of mud, there are no tar roads in Kuyga, there are dogs everywhere and I mean everywhere as well as the random cow or goat walking the streets and with stray animals means animal doo doo, you have to wear closed shoes walking around otherwise you will end up with a thorn or glass in your foot. It’s just not that nice a place.

Yesterday I was talking to someone about the difference between government housing in Aus and in Kuyga and I was explaining how if anyone were to attempt to raise children in a house like a township home in Australia they would have their children taken away from them for child neglect. He looked at me with surprise and then said something I most definitely did not believe ‘Kuyga is one of the good townships’.

Well at the time like I said I didn’t believe it, not that I didn’t think it could get worse, this is Africa it can always get worse, but more so that I couldn’t conceive what could be worse than Kuyga. More mud? More dogs? More drunk people? Today I saw it, I saw what worse looks like and it shocked me.

I don’t even know how to describe what worse looks like, a township is a concept that I don’t think you can fully comprehend when you’ve been raised in a country like Australia. I could explain to you what it looks like I could even show you photos and videos but you can never really understand until you’ve seen it. What I saw today was disheartening, it made me feel hopeless and upset and confused. I saw people stealing electricity, they would get a chair and 2 men would stand on it, one pushing the other up, to reach the power lines. They would pull a line down and then attach another line to connect to their homes. Mr Fudu who works for the council said that the council is powerless to stop this because most of the councillors stand up for these people. I mean they don’t have electricity what are they supposed to do light a candle? These people are living in shacks, these shacks are small and filled with people and there are way too many stories of them burning down with entire families trapped inside. I was shocked.

Now let me explain something about the shack houses. In a township your house is given to you for free and you don’t pay for your water. The only thing you have to pay for is your electricity. Sounds like a fair deal, a free home with minimal costs it sounds like the government is doing a great job to help tackle poverty and homelessness. Here’s the flaw. There are no restrictions on who can get a free house, there are no regulations, there are no checks. Anyone can own a house in a township all you have to do is build a shack somewhere in the township and within maybe a year the government will build you a brick house. You don’t have to be poor to live in a township and unfortunately people are abusing the system. I own a home, I want another home, I build a shack, I get a free home. It is taxpayers that are covering all these costs and with no regulations people are taking advantage of the offer.

Don’t get me wrong it’s not like these townships homes are luxury living but it’s land and a house and anyone can cash in on the offer. Sometimes you go into a township and see huge houses with nice gardens and a fancy car parked in front. People are definitely abusing the system. So why not regulate the townships and then you realise it’s all about politics. People need votes to get power, regulating townships isn’t going to make you Mr. Popularity. And so it continues, more shacks are set up surrounding the brick homes and eventually some family gets a place to live. A corrupt system is better than no system at all, at least people will have a roof over their heads. I still don’t like the idea of it, the whole system is in need of a renovation. When you continually hand out freebies there’s no incentive to work for what you have. There’s so much alcohol and crime in the townships, without even stereotyping or making an unfair judgement township lifestyle is based around alcohol. When you grow up in this world it ends up being all you know, there is this cycle that continues around and around, each generation starting earlier than the last.

So today I was shocked again. Another interesting lesson learnt. I wonder what the next will be.