Tuesday in Gugulethu

This morning, I left the comfort of University of Cape Town to venture to Gugulethu for the rest of the week. For the record, a township by definition “refers to the (often underdeveloped) urban living areas that, under Apartheid, were reserved for non-whites (principally black Africans and Coloureds, but also working class Indians). Townships were usually built on the periphery of towns and cities” (from our good friends at Wikipedia… yes, I realize that this isn’t the most credible source that I could have used. However, it is a good definition based on my experience and previous knowledge on the topic). I left with an abundance of emotions. I was apprehensive mostly about my homestay life. I know that I am proud to have been selected by my host father, Zukile. But I pull a turtle move (retreating into my shell) when ever I am in the slightest “strange” situation. I guess at that point in the week I still did not know what to expect.

I feel that it is important to mention the “formal” education portion of my experience because it gives context to my overall knowledge of South African culture. Our first speaker was Yvonne, the director of ministries and outreach at the JL Zwane. I gather that she has one of the most difficult, yet rewarding jobs at the community center. She provides material and emotional support for those in poverty [and living in shacks] in Gugulethu. It involves collecting donations [medical supplies, clothes, socks, underwear, toys, hygiene products, etc.]. While it is not productive to be jealous, I am jealous of her strength. To go to from shack to shack (on foot) on a daily basis, facing poverty head on, is extremely challenging. She deals with people who are unbelievably grateful for a new pair of socks to those who always ask for more. It is from her talk that the reality of AIDS surfaced. By 2003, every household in Gugulethu had someone or knew someone who had AIDS; it is said by 2010, the numbers of people with AIDS will triple. We are still talking about just South Africa here. Can you believe it? At first, I couldn’t. But unfortunately, with everything that I have heard regarding attitudes towards the ways in which people can become infected with the virus, I am not surprised.

The poverty is so extreme in Gugulethu. For example, Yvonne told a story about a home visit she once did where she noticed a 13 year old girl sitting in a corner of a shack. She asked another person staying with her what she was doing in the corner. The person replied that she hadn’t eaten in two days and therefore resorted to eating her own feces because she was hungry.

Our second speaker, Nombeko, is one of the most beautiful people I have had the privilege of meeting. On the 16^th of August in 1997, she was gang raped in Gugulethu. Clearly, it would take anyone a significant amount of time to move on from an act as serious as this. To top it all off, she decided to be responsible and get tested for HIV only to be informed that she is HIV positive. Now, being gang raped and left with the HI virus could crush any will to live. But not Nombeko. She told us that she made the choice to live… “I’m HIV positive; so what?” She deals with the virus and takes her medication and is living a healthy lifestyle. Her smile is positively radiant, almost as if she is emitting a beam of hope to others who are HIV positive. Her candidness about the issue left the group with a new outlook on life applicable to all of our lives. Food for thought from her talk includes:

- “When you cannot do, you cannot do.”

- “If I don’t stigmatize myself, then others cannot stigmatize me.”

- “You can’t changed what has happened; you can only deal with it.”

- “You are messing up if you don’t utilize your resources.”

We spent part of the day traveling with Yvonne to different houses to donate some items. One woman that we decided to work with a couple of times during the week is named Pricilla. She is taking care of eleven children in a small three bedroom house situated on one floor. Some of them are her own while most of the others are orphans that she took in to provide a home. While her home is well-kept for what it is, it is still small. Cement is crumbling from the ceiling. Paint is chipped on the walls. The kitchen size is nothing short of what you would see in a studio apartment in Minneapolis. She relies mainly on help from the church. How does she do this? Another home that we visited was in better shape than Pricilla’s. Yvonne donated two rain coats for the younger boys that live there. The grandmother couldn’t believe it and responded with, “Wow… this is expensive.” Her gratitude was beautiful and genuine, so much so that it caused my eyes to swim with tears as I climbed back into our transport.

After the end of our school day, the group went to a host family’s home for a group dinner. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in, especially when surrounding the home were shacks. But you would never know this because her home was completely charming. Yes, it might not have been big enough to accommodate 30 people (all of the host parents came over as well). But the love and conversation shared over a delicious South African meal was great. From lamb curry to potatoes, the food was mouth-watering. This gathering reminded me of the family gatherings that I used to hate going to when I was growing up. From the table with the food in the corner, to chairs crammed in one after the other, to laughter from the soul… everything was there. The feeling of community was something to be cherished. Also, one of our main coordinators of the week, Paul, showed us the “Chicken” dance. Seriously, everyone in the township knows this dance. And people really do look like chickens while doing it.

The nerve-racking part of the evening was upon me—going “home.” When Zukile walked in, Nichole and I greeted him with warm hearts. However, I noticed that he was accompanied by a woman. On our walk home, I learned that this woman was his girlfriend, Loretta. So not only do I have a host papa but a host mama too! Let me tell you, she is an amazing woman. [Also, the next couple of sentences will come off as offensive. However, I do know that it can be a general consensus and there is a reason for me pointing it out]. Townships are generally associated with poverty. And after taking a class through the leadership minor at the UMTC, I know that a generalization of what poverty looks like in America can be degrading. You think that poverty means messy homes and uneducated people. This is so far from the truth that it makes me sick to think that the stereotype still exists. My host mama, Loretta, is a student on scholarship at the University of the Western Cape. She just finished writing her exams in Anthropology and Sociology and plans to continue her work for the government in a correctional facility. She really loves her job even when she has to question rapists. However, she made it clear that she can empathize with inmates but not sympathize with them. She is such a strong woman. She is still living in the same house that she was born in Gugulethu but has dreams of moving to Cape Town. On a student to student level, I can relate to her very well. We have similar personalities in that we don’t party often but when we do, it’s all out. Or, that things that have to be done for school are always running in the back of our minds, even when we are trying to relax. It was so nice to have a mother figure in my life in South Africa. C’mon, who doesn’t enjoy being pampered by their mothers every once and a while right?

Zukile also has a college degree in social sciences. He has a son around the age of ten that works as a child model. We had heard about his story at church on Sunday but learned on this night that he works as a speaker about HIV/AIDS to different organizations in the area as well. AIDS affects all, from the person who has it, to the people who know others with it.

What was one of the most interesting things of the evening is how ready my host parents were to hear about our lives. It was kind of refreshing to share my story and passions within a loving home. After two hours of talking, Nichole and I got ready for bed. Now, I cannot lie in that I was worried about being cold… so much so that I packed way more clothes than necessary for three nights. But our room was wonderfully warm! The house was warm in general because they have a fabulous space heater, which Mama moved into our room. For the first time since I have been in Cape Town, I was hot! Being warm is something that I will not take for granted back home. It was one of the most comfortable night’s sleep I have had in a while. It just goes to show that preconceived notions are meant to be challenged for a reason; you will be exposed to new things and have your perceptions changed. I am so glad that Tuesday was only just the beginning.