I like dreaming big … I don’t want to miss anything. And when I’m visioning for my life, just in case my imagination might be limited, I often ask for my request to be fulfilled “beyond my wildest dreams.”
Africa was just that … all that I anticipated and so much more!
I had imagined the experience of “foreign teacher.” But being completely immersed in the Zulu culture and isolated from all things familiar brought a wealth of experience that I am still unpacking, waiting to see just how it will inform my life and work.
During the six weeks I spent in KwaZulu-Natal, I experienced:
• A tribal elder’s death and funeral rites
• Three separate occasions of young women begging me to bring them to the US
• Bird songs in the air night & day that kept me from feeling lonely
• A 15 year old girl’s self-induced abortion of a 5 month fetus
• Intentional starvation of children as a means of controlling their behavior
• The most incredible red dirt on earth
• The tragic death of a 7 year old boy struck by a car as he walked to school
• How 60% unemployment kills hope
• Using music to alter behavior in a heartbeat
• A village in terror when their school is struck by lightning
• Wild monkeys invading my living space
• Superstitions of the witchdoctors taking precedence over well established medical data
• Making a speech at a teacher’s conference on HIV/AIDS in rural schools
• Amazing hugs from hundreds of kids who are so hungry for love
• A proud 12 year old boy holding his new toothbrush over his head like a prized treasure
• Being asked to speak at a government workshop on child literacy
• The best and the worst of race relations
• 1st & 2nd graders voluntarily staying late after school to practice their letters & numbers
• Running for my life with tears in my eyes
I took in a LOT in six short weeks. Much of it I don’t even have words for yet.
I haven’t given up my passion for working with women and children. In fact, I understand the need to help in a much deeper way. And I am convinced that I got exactly what I asked for: an experience beyond my wildest dreams.
The journey home was long and exhausting, and it took a couple days for my luggage to catch up with me. Many thanks for your incredible support over the past two months … especially the last few days when my experience became frightening.
In the few short days I’ve been home I have already talked for endless hours, just spilling all the stories that I couldn’t share in my blogs. Not knowing exactly who may have been reading my journal, I was careful not to write anything that could have been perceived as culturally insensitive. Not how I would have intended it, but it was challenging to truly understand the cultural sensitivities.
What I notice most so far is that the experience is much broader than I was able to take in ‘in the moment.’ Teaching the children was the dangling carrot that lured me to Africa, but the bulk of my learning comes from being completely immersed in the Zulu culture. Isolated from all things familiar and without the freedom of movement and distraction, I sense that I have come home a changed woman. I expect to be unpacking the new me for quite some time.
I looked at all my photos last night, for the first time, and just cried at seeing those little faces that say so much without any words. I miss them terribly. I also miss going to sleep at night to the sounds of the animals … the hadidas, bullfrogs, roosters and monkeys. It’s so quiet here in Walnut Creek.
My experience is deep and profound, and will no doubt continue to unfold in me for quite some time. And in the belief that all human connections in life are for mutual growth, I trust that the there is equally profound learning left behind in Africa.
It’s Saturday afternoon here and I’m happy to report that I am safely in a hotel in Johannesburg for the evening. The past couple days have been rough.
Thank you for all your emails of support … you warmed my heart. I’ve picked myself up out of the dark hole of ‘failure’ and feel relatively certain that whatever led to my expulsion is not personal … other than the fact that I am white.
After receiving the news that I was leaving at the end of the school day on Thursday, I was shunned in the same way that I witnessed them treating others – and it hurt. They gradually quit speaking to me, stole my food, and gave me “non-existent” status. The same people who were so kind and protective six weeks ago turned on me in a heartbeat. It’s been incredible to experience.
I’ve learned a lot from this adventure … not the least of which is that cultural barriers are so hard to dismantle. I’m sure there will be more understanding of all the events, pleasant and unpleasant, as time goes on and the purposes of it all makes its way into my consciousness.
It seemed pretty clear before I left home that this journey was meant to be … there were very few obstacles to overcome, and my night dreams kept pointing me to the next step. It seems equally obvious that it’s time to come home. About a week ago I started having dreams of being back at home, grieving with my friends. And … contrary to typical airline practices, my airline rearranged my travel plans without any charges. I feel held closely in grace.
I will be back in San Francisco on Monday, just in time for St. Patrick’s Day and Easter. I can’t wait to collect all the hugs you’ve promised !!
This is a hard blog to write … my heart is breaking. There has been something in the wind here for the last week or so, but it’s so hard to know what’s happening when I don’t speak the language, and they are masters at avoiding direct questions.
Then this afternoon the principal and my host teacher sat down with me after school and told me that there is some political unrest happening here in the village and surrounding area as a direct result of my presence.
Their communication style is indirect, at best, but the bottom line is this: they will not let me come to school for one more day and my host teacher is not willing to house me any longer. I still feel safe at the moment, but fear that my well-being could be in jeopardy if I stay on.
So … I will be leaving on the first available plane out and will be home in time for Easter. My heart hurts so bad though … I didn’t get to say goodbye to the kids. I am so sad, I can barely see through my tears.
Thank you all for your support and encouragement. I’m trying my best to know that this doesn’t mean that I’ve failed … but please continue to hold good thoughts for me as I make my way back home.
Literally! We arrived at school the other morning to discover that lightning had struck the fence during the night and melted the padlock on the gate. We were all locked out and it took the men quite a while to break us in.
Out of curiosity, we had all examined the padlock before the event was over. And because we had touched the place where lightning struck, before going to our classrooms we had a cleansing ritual to wash away any evil spirits that may have been lingering on our bodies.
The elders found a big bucket, collected some wild herbs from the hillside to add to the water, and one-by-one we filed past the bucket to wash our hands and faces. And with our spirits cleansed … school was on!
