Goings on about town.

September is drawing to a close and time seems to be speeding up as it often does when- well, when you are having fun!  Feeling settled and acclimatizing to my new Atlantic Ocean scenery the possibilities seem as wide as the sliver of ocean that I can see as I peer between 2 tall apartment buildings.  So this is what it is like to live in the city…

 

1. The Promenade.  Out the gate, to the left, and 20 steps to the coastal walkway that parallels the rocky coast of the Atlantic.  The promenade, as it is know, winds its way through Sea Point, Green Point, all the way to the Waterfront.  People of all shapes and sizes, dogs, boot camp, families, couples, and a slew of characters dart along at all speeds. Waddles, sprints, hops, jogs, and saunters dabble down the bricked path as waves crash and sea spray coats your skin.  The sunsets are stunning and I often find that I am called to the walkway as the sky changes and melts into the sea. 

      

2. Heritage Day.  One of the perks of living abroad is the opportunity to celebrate new holidays.  One of the bummers of living abroad is not getting to celebrate those holidays that you are used to at home.  One of the perks of living abroad is meeting an amazing group of ex-pats that want to celebrate the holidays of your homeland with you.  Saturday September 24^th was Heritage Day or as it has now been coined National Braii Day.  A braii for those of you who don’t know is a barbeque.  On Friday, the GRS office shared our heritage in honor of this communal “hang out, eat a lot, drink and be merry, play in the sun day!”  Such a nonsequitor to learn about people’s lives and families in a professional setting; refreshing.

3. Table Mountain.  This past Saturday a few GRS colleges, my roommate, and I decided that we would climb Table Mountain.  A step and rapid ascent and descent on a beautiful sunny day; felt like summer.  On such a beautiful day there were bound to be numbers of people making there way up the hour and a half stair stepper.  Determination, heat, views, and a ‘don’t stop moving’ attitude willed us up the mountain as we dabbled in the quintessential trail chats.  What is it about the air on the trail (pure) and the meditation of putting one foot in front of the other that lends you to meaningful and significant conversation? I am convinced that this is at least a portion of the reason that I am in love with nature- because it brings me closer to people.  Irony.  An hour and a half or so up, and you stand victoriously overlooking Cape Town.  An hour down and you are suddenly submerged by the land that you had seemingly conquered.  What a city…

4. HAART and the TAC.  Cape Town is infinite in culture.  With book fairs, boat shows, semester at sea in town, and film festivals there is so much to do that I feel spoiled.  On Tuesday night I went to go and see a film that highlighted the Truth Action Campaign and the fight for and initiation of Highly-Active Antiretroviral Therapy Treatment in South Africa.  For many years in South Africa there was ambiguity, uncertainty, and denial about the roots of HIV, it’s connection to AIDS, and the means to prevent it from spreading as well as how to best support people living with HIV.  I watched recent image after image of South African politicians and citizens look Science in the face and say “No!”  “No” to the existence of the virus, “No” to the fact that it lead to AIDS, “No” to the fact that as many as 600,000 people were suffering from HIV and none of them with treatment.  A humbling and contemporary story; contemporary and astonishing.  I think that we forget that denial, ignorance, and the need to educate and the need to provide wholesome information escapes us because we are in 2011…but ignorance is ever living, ever present, and something I definitely obtain-even in my own field of work.

5. Bike!

I may have found a bike.  Now onto the scoooooooter, yippee!

tied over.

My endeavor to post once a week has been a bit sloppy at best, please forgive me.  To tie everyone, including myself, over till I manage to sit down and reflect on the past few days...eeks, weeks.  Here are some photo highlights and links that provide a bit of a window into what's been happening before breakfast.

1.  View from the roof of my apartment...taken by roommate extraordinaire Charlie Shoemaker (you all should check out his website too:

2.  Grassroot Soccer, the AMAZING organization that I work for, is being featured in Sports Illustrated!!  Check out this article (pg. 3)

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1190627/3/index.htm

http://www.grassrootsoccer.org/2011/09/21/grassroot-soccer-makes-commitment-to-girls-at-clinton-global-initiative/

3.  If you happen to be in Albuquerque this week (Friday September 23rd) there will be some Zambian Kings that you could meet.  Small Small small World.

Anthropology Department Welcomes African Kings from Zambia

September 20, 2011 | By Karen Wentworth

The UNM com­mu­nity is invited to meet three African Kings from Zam­bia on Wednes­day, Sept. 28, at 3 p.m. in Hibben 105. His Majesty Nza­mane will speak on “The Expe­ri­ence of the Ngoni,” His Majesty Mukini will speak on “The Expe­ri­ence of the Toka Leva” and His Majesty Mwamba will speak on “The Expe­ri­ence of the Bemba.” This Tribal Cul­tural Exchange Mis­sion is to uncover and con­nect the tribal sim­i­lar­i­ties of both Native Amer­ica and Zambia.
Tribal Cul­tural Exchange fos­ters learn­ing, preser­va­tion of cul­tural tra­di­tions and pro­mot­ing eco­nomic devel­op­ment by work­ing with tribal groups and edu­ca­tors to cre­ate a healthy, advanced and edu­ca­tion­ally enriched com­mu­nity in iso­lated vil­lages, thereby, allow­ing for a break­through in future com­mu­nity and eco­nomic devel­op­ment. The edu­ca­tional goal is to cre­ate stu­dent exchange pro­grams with the Uni­ver­sity of New Mexico.”
Fac­ulty and stu­dents are invited to meet ear­lier from 2:15–2:45 with The African Kings in rm. 238 in Anthro­pol­ogy Build­ing 11.
For more infor­ma­tion, con­tact the Anthro­pol­ogy Depart­ment at (505) 277‑4524.


Maybe this man will be there...

4.   New friends and a Saturday in the sun.



5.  Go Springboks!  South Africa plays in their 3rd World Cup Rugby Match today...bring that trophy home!

Miss you all!

Snapshots.

Snaps for (meaning I agree) and from (meaning I or someone took a photo) weekend moments in Cape Town (and surrounding areas).

1.  Birthday.  24.  Ah, I am really 24.  I think that this means something significant.  Most likely it will take me much of the next year to figure out what that means.  Signing contracts, getting health insurance, making friends, having a business card…

The luckiest girl in the worlds, I was able to celebrate my 24^th birthday in Cape Town, the day I arrived, with some of the coolest people I will ever meet!!

2.  Llandudno.  The beach that everyone dreams of, silky sand, crystal for water, and houses that make your jaw hurt.  Beauty on the beach, in winter.  We took a mid-day brunch to the beach to celebrate Sara’s final days in Cape Town.  It was a warm day with a brisk breeze.  One of those days that makes you feel like you are on a movie set it is so perfect.  Tossing a disk, eating Nutella, and laughing with friends colored the day and paralleled the radiance of the sun.

3.  Flowers and Flamingos.  As spring has sprung so have the flowers found in Namaqualand (say it 10 times fast) and in the West Coast National Park.  South Africa is peppered with pristine wilderness and the WCNP, as it is called in these parts, is a vast and memorable piece of wilderness.  Settled along the western coast of the country (Atlantic Ocean side…brrrrr) there is a small peninsula that is covered in rolling hills of colored wild flowers and a diverse animal population that left me and some friends questioning whether animals were real or figments of our imagination.  It is so diverse that the least likely animal was found in the “lagoon” that settles calmly in between the peninsula and the mainland.  Can you guess? I guess I already gave it away…a pink flamingo.  One solo flyer sifting through the salt and teal water amidst burst of wild color. 

The WCNP is modest but bursts with pockets of beauty.  Pulling over every 5 minutes to soak in the kaleidoscope of flowers that follow the pattern of the sun, exposing their liveliness as the day progressed, and pausing to admire the dirty zebra, the pink flamingo, and a slew of birds and antelope we made our way around the lagoon to the beach and fishing town of Langeraan.  Mainly Afrikaans is spoken in these parts, so street names, shop names, and even saying “hello” and “thank you” had my mouth in knots and me tripping over words.  Continuing inland the color of the flowers was replaced by altitude and oranges.

 

 4.  Cedarbergs and Oranges.

The Cedarbergs are a jugged mountain range that is a 2 hour jaunt north of Cape Town on the N7.  So close and so vastly different, the magnificence of the ocean is replaced by jugged rock and deep valleys that house a citrus supply that had my skin turning orange due to lack of self discipline.  Oranges and lemons are found dotting the road and I don’t think that a farm has ever looked more inviting.  Neatly dressed orange trees in rows dominate the valley which then juts into mountains (my favorite!)

We rolled into Cirtusberg (aptly named) and happened upon an tourist information sign.  With local recommendation we ventured down a road to some “baths.”  Having no idea what we were in for, we were greeted by a teenage boy who promptly sold us the largest bag of oranges for 5 Rand (about 75-80 cents).  Amazing!!!!  Tart and juicy, these oranges could have fed me for a lifetime.  Then we kept going and found ourselves in camping paradise. Natural hot springs, hiking, and camping amnesties all found in one spot.  Watching the sun set, fighting with fire, and soaking in a hot bath were the events of the evening…and the morning brought a hike to look out onto the orange conquered valley.  Take that Sunny-D.

5.  New home and mini-buses.

Now that I am 24 and some form of adult, the venture for housing is a constant thought and concern.  I seem to be getting very lucky and learning a lot the more places I rent and the more people that I live with. Eventually I assume that this luck will run out, but for now I will take it while I have it. And as luck would have it, my criteria were price, furnished, and hopefully a washing machine.  Guess what I got?  All that and SO MUCH MORE.  I got poker chips, sea gulls, Jewish grandmothers, promenade and beach access, a television (haven’t lived with one of these in a while), and instant hot water.  Basically I live in a quiet apartment building in Sea Point (you’ll just have to look that one up).  I can walk to the beach, hear sea gulls in the morning, ride a min-bus to work, and have a grocery store super close by.  I love it. It has a bit of a grungy feel, a bit of a grown up feel, and a bit of a lost somewhere in time feel.  Home.

Brief notes and thoughts about mini-buses.  I adore public transportation, while often my experience in Zambia and South Africa shows that mini-bus drivers can be the worst, they are also the most protective of their vehicles because, well, it is their livelihood.  As a social phenomenon they teach you vast amounts about the world you are entering. 

A brief history:  hoped into a mini-bus with 3 women, strangers as I later found out, ranting and raving about men and how they are useless and the do’s and do not’s for when it comes to men. Mind you there were men on this mini-bus… I had watched this mini-bus approach from a block away.  It had stopped at the corner where a couple attempted to get onto the bus.  An apparent struggle ensued.  Now these buses are not formal; no official stops, no set time schedule, no rules, except for the fee paid (R5).  Next thing I see is the driver, a burly woman (also not something that you often see), who looked Romanian with missing front teeth and an quintessential wrestlers gate, pop out of the car yelling only in the way that an Italian grandmother who had raised boys would know how to, and kicking this couple off the bus.  Does this really happen?  I debated whether or not it was a good idea to get on the bus and decided that if she was willing to kick people out of her bus that she didn’t like than that was DEFINITELY the bus that I wanted to be on.  And man was it incredible, sad, humbling, and eye-opening.  These 3 women gabbed and gabbed, compared notes on men, showed each other stabbing scars, vowed to defend each other and Women, laughed, expressed condolences, and all of this within the 12 minutes that it takes to get from where I got on to where I got off.  Intensity of life when relationships are run in starts and stops and robots (street lights) are your only options for break-time.  The lives of these women were encapsulated within the mini-bus and that simple form of transit enabled a group therapy which we all needed.

I hoped off feeling dazed and confused but oddly satisfied; unexpected adventure on an unassuming afternoon.    

In other news

…the Springboks (The Republic of South Africa’s Rugby Team) beat Wales yesterday 17-16 in their first showing in the Rugby World Cup. 

…I saw 2 whales (not sure what kind) in the Atlantic Ocean yesterday as I was walking to watch the match.

…and I found out that there is a Swiss and Austrian Social Club, hmmm.

Chapters.

One month exactly; eleven to go?  Where does time escape to?  Two months ago I touched down in the US of A for the first time in 11 months.  One month ago I touched down in Cape Town, South Africa, my new home.  Mountains, wine, water, sun, rain, left-sided drivers, apartments, Jewish neighborhoods, and Grassroot Soccer await me in.  For those of you who are just tuning into the run around that has been my life, welcome.  For the next year I will be based out of Cape Town, South Africa.  Yes, the Spanish major is STILL in Southern Africa…hmmmm.  I just couldn’t say no to the opportunity to continue my love affair with Grassroot Soccer, and get paid to do it.

Life in a word is stunning.  

I have managed to settle in relatively smoothly.  Found an apartment in the predominately Jewish neighborhood of Sea Point.  I’ve sampled the happenings around Cape Town with some all-you-can-eat sushi endeavors and the wonders of The Engen (yes capital ‘T’), a 24-hour gas station that has anything and everything you could ever want.  The Engen was also 2 blocks from the place I was staying for my first 2 weeks in Cape Town…danger, good thing I moved over the mountain and away towards the ocean.  My apartment sits on a quiet block.  Exit the building and you have a ½ a block walk to the promenade, a pathway that parallels the coast line of the Atlantic Ocean. I smell ocean when I walk out my door and hear sea gulls at all hours of the morning (a change from the roosters from last year). 

The weekends have been filled with recovering from jet leg, the beach, visiting the wine lands, venturing up the western cape, and settling into my new home.  I hope to fill this blog with stories, hilarity, thoughts, moments, recipes and the adventures of my all too blessed life. 

Five impossible things a week.  Happy reading.  [photo of me on top of table mountain]

Tizoanana

At the end of every day as I walk out of the office cross the 10 foot walkway to my back door I hear the words “Tizaonana Milo” (see you later, tomorrow). Tomorrow it will simply be “Tizaonana.” Tomorrow I am leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again…la la la. But it isn’t all la de da. It is a profound goodbye. One that I never anticipated to be as humbling and appreciative as it is. I knew coming to Zambia would be an “experience” but as I have toiled with the drama, the landscape, the work, the language, and keeping my feet clean I have found more than any experience has given me...I’ve found a piece of my life, part of me. It is difficult to put into words and I will never pretend to do it justice but I will try by saying a few final thank yous to encompass the vastness of my appreciation for this place, people, and all that this adventure has been.

Thank you to the house that welcomed us in with all of its quirks. From the jenga-like floor to the standard house inhabitants (mice, cockroaches, maggots, wall spiders, geckos, etc.) I have loved your charm, your sounds, the projector screen and most of all the fact that you were never ever more than 10 steps from the office.

Thank you to the yard that evolved from dirt to grass and a garden in a short year. To the avocado, mango, lemon, papaya, and banana tress…without you, I am not sure how I would have eaten. Thank you to the hammock that provided hours of countless thought, solace, and appreciation for then web of nature that exists right behind my home. Thank you for the countless braais and events that brought many people together and provided space for shenanigans.

To Kamba. Dog, I love love love you and if I could I would cart you all the way back to the states. I love waking up to you and am so glad that you did not kill yourself in the first few months here. Be good, try not to bark so much at night, and keep working on your tricks.

To Ping…well, you’ve grown on me and I hope that one of the new interns has a deep appreciation and love for cats. Be well, keep killing mice, and please learn to run away from Kamba.

Thank you to the office. While half of my time was spent outside the walls, the walls provided rounds of laughter, space for conversation, and a desk in a back room that I could call my own.

Thank you to the incredible team of individuals who I’ve worked AND played with. I don’t think I have ever met a more impassioned group of people. To each of you, thank you for teaching me what caring means, for always asking difficult questions, for laughing and dancing often, and for including me in your lives…it has been a rare privilege to be welcomed into your homes and your lives. Thank you!

To the coaches, thank you for humoring my Nyanja, for including me in energizers, for listening to what I had to say, for 3a.m. phone calls, for setting up tents, for eating the meat pies, and for committing to your communities and to kids. Your impact is astounding and why it was worth while to wake up.

To the interns (Marissa, Mike, and Max). Gosh, what to say. North, South, East, AND West. We did it guys…the perfect balance, the perfect crew. I think that this place has left it’s mark on us but YOU ALL have left your marks on me. Thank you for the support, conversation, meals, movies, enthusiasm, and willingness to try new things. I will miss you all terribly- but I’ll see you all soon J

I love my ZAMFAM (Marissa, Spiak, Zales, Tommy, Max, Lena). You all are amazing! You inspire me to work harder and I definitely would not understand or appreciate this place as much if it hadn’t been for all of you. Your advice, love of life, and work ethic is contagious. Can’t wait to run into you all again.

To my friends, you ALL should know who you are. Memories are insane and incredible and bring swells of laughter and tears when I think about all the adventures, conversations, and fun that we’ve had. I cannot wait to see where each of your lives take you…I know they are going amazing places. Thanks for including me in your lives, you have made a lasting impression and I don’t think that I would have survived the wildlife, the vacations, or crossing the street with out you. So much love…miss you all!

To the Tuesday vegetable market, my favorite space in all of Lusaka. Thank you for the color, the energy, and the fresh food. I hope that all the mama’s stay safe, the guard boys out of trouble, and that the land continues to produce, and the people continue to purchase. I found peace and inspiration each time I stepped through the threshold so, thank you.

Vegas, Alpha, R&G events, and Polo…thank you for teaching me to dance. I now believe that muzungus can dance too!

To Wednesday afternoon and weekend frisbee...go big or go home. I've never felt so alive in my life! Hours of conversation, intense games, and quirky cuts and throws pepper my memories of the Polo fields, the American school, and in it's final days the horse arena under the lights. Cannot wait to see you all soon...keep playing, t-rex points, and Mr. Jones....go long!

To all those who helped to support me whether through funding, prayers, thoughts, notes, or simply by talking about Grassroot Soccer. I need you all to know that my life is changed because of you and I cannot thank you enough!

To Grassroot Soccer, for not only giving me the opportunity to come here and to continue! My life will never be the same because of this.

For those of you who do not know…I will be back in the US for about a month. After that month I will be moving to Cape Town, South Africa to continue working for Grassroot Soccer in our Global Office. I will be helping out with the monitoring and evaluation side of all of our programs and a little bit of curriculum development. I am thrilled, excited, nervous, and all around blessed.

Tizaonana Zambia…not Milo (tomorrow) but maybe sometime soon.

Hello. Hello.

April is a month of preparation in the GRS office. Which, oddly enough, means that for most of this month I will not be living at the GRS office nor in the field but rather at Barclays Sports Complex. I live here. It is a complex that we often use for trainings because of the field, the inside space, the staff, and the bar. The road to Barclays is a minefield. Crater after crater jostles me awake each morning so by the time I reach here I am ready to face 25+ energetic peer-educators. Each week we have a new group. Names to learn, personalities to collaborate, and time to be kept.

We’ve been saying “Hello” the past 2 weeks to a slew of potential peer educators. Thirty-five names to learn each of the weeks and 35 sets of facilitations skills to sift through. Admissions is a rough process. Each morning we start the day with tons of energy and nervousness. By the end of the day we are a family, teasing eachother and perfecting the balance between work and play.
GRS trains coaches (peer educators) in what we call ToCs (Training of Coaches), six days of intensive information. We teach them the entire 10 session curriculum, explain to them what their role is as a coach, and cover all manner of facilitation skills. Not to mention the fact that we have to train them in how to do home-visits, referrals, and explain how our office supports their activity.Just to briefly list and elaborate on what exactly it is that our coaches do; they implement a 10 hour curriculum (sometimes they do it 2 times a week, other times every day), they conduct home-visits to each one of their 40 participants homes in order to encourage parents to sign a consent form allowing their child to be tested for HIV, they attend and assist graduations making sure that their kids are shuffled through the testing process with a caring adult figure at hand, they also deliver results to parents, conducting a second home-visit that ensures that the testing information gets back into the hands of the guardian. If they are a coach-counselor then they accompany any HIV positive youth to their appointments at a pediatric clinic. In summary, they care more than any individuals that I have ever met!

Coaches (peer educators) are the roots of this organization and finding charismatic, adaptable, and caring coaches is a task that I am learning takes time, experience, and thoughtfulness. So after two weeks of six day trainings I had a few days in the office to re-group, say hello to faces that I haven’t seen in a bit, and prepare for three weeks of three day trainings for our current coaches.

Currently I am in the midst of DC (Development of Coaches) number one. A different vibe of confidence comes from these coaches and I really feel pushed to be on my toes and to challenge the norm of GRS. They push the envelope, which includes pushing me.

With a new crew of stellar individuals we, GRS, say hello to a new year of ambition, trails, and successes.

Thanksgiving and tranquility.

.

A few weeks ago on a lazy Sunday we decided to take a drive. It is not often that you are able to jet out of the city in a 4x4 and explore the roads. Spiak, Jamie, Max, and myself encountered a village, an endless road, and a priceless sunset. It was one of those haphazardous encounters that epitomized the beauty of the sun and left you feeling grateful for its provision and for friends; romanticized in a way. Photos are a sad attempt at justice because it would take the wind blowing through your hair and chickens running across the street to complete the ambiance surrounding the 3x5.

Driving briefly outside of the city suddenly you are in the bush. There is a field and trees and brush and no sign of the life that you know is sunken behind the fascade. A sense of freedom is paired with the perspective of distance and I have to say it is a comforting feeling. I miss the ability to see for great distances, to get up high and marvel at all that you can’t see on a normal basis. Lusaka, although at a decent altitude, lacks vertical dimension. A few hills and skyscrapers are an attempt at relief. Although I would trek warily up the skyscrapers, they are old and barbaric looking- reminiscent of an uncreative time.

The weather is changing. Fall is here, making the light all the more powerful and my spirits a bit melancholy. I have woken up on multiple mornings thinking that it is time to get up for school, time to walk on a campus, time to study. Maybe this means I am craving a classroom? (food for thought). More than anything I find that the shift to crisp morning air and an encouraging sun has given clarity to so many things in my life.

A clear thankfulness for friends has cleansed my impatience and centered me on small joys. The brief emails received, a hug, a longing memory, they all compile into a sentiment of being the luckiest girl in the world. So to all you reading, thank you for that. Similarly the purity of the season has allowed me to reach a new level of curiosity towards Zambia. As time passes I feel that we become stagnant and complacent and for whatever reason I feel jolted back into wonderment.

I wonder about what I have missed and what I will not have chance to learn about Zambia. When you live somewhere you often forget to sink your teeth into things and ask questions because habits are the way they are. But often that is how you gauge what you know- by asking questions. This year has taught me that. To ask questions of what you already know and pursue deeper understanding. I’ve tried to initiate curiosity in all pieces of my life…what do I want to do next, what do I think about this, that, and the other. Perhaps it is a sign of maturity and growth but really what I appreciate most about this self-realization is the fact that I am on a path and I have no idea what each moment will bring to that path…what the next brick I lay down will be, not even I know.