Nothing can quite make you feel worthwhile like a colorful card with atrocious grammar from a nine year old.
The classroom is chaos, like usual before break time, and Nadine sneaks over to my table at the back of the room, pigtails swinging down her back. She brings out her hand from behind her to show a bright blue card, handing it to me while looking up with a shy grin. Across the top is scrawled “Well come to Cape Town!” and there’s a blonde princess demurely grinning in front of some palm trees.
“Aw, Nadine is this for me?” I ask, getting an overdose of warm fuzzies from head to toe. She nods and gives me a hug before rushing off again to head out for break. After telling her how good of an artist she was my first day at school there’s been a constant stream of new pictures and cards from her each week. With each new drawing she looks up at me with proud eyes while receiving praise for her latest work.
I’ve been volunteering a few days each week at a local elementary school for the past month or so and have been loving (almost) every moment of it. Ms Tziavasi’s 3rd grade class has an overwhelming 38 kids and there is rarely a moment of quiet and order at any point in the day. Many come from rough backgrounds such as druggie parents, neglect, no food at home, or live in an area of high gang violence. They are a mix of coloured, Indian, black, and Muslim. But the labels mean nothing, they’re just a bunch of loud, normal kids.
Each day after lunch the kids gather on the mat in front and I read out loud from a chapter book called “Cool!” The kids have gotten really into it and argue together about whether the lead character will ever come out of his coma. My favorite part of the day though is when I call them back one by one to read to me. Their faces light up when they hear their names called and all too often they crowd around asking “when is it my turn?!” or ask to stay in during lunch to read. More than anything I use the time to encourage them as much as possible. They absolutely love the individual attention and usually come away glowing, proudly displaying a smiley sticker.
It seems like such a simple thing, telling each of them “good job!” or admiring how well they’re doing. But the impact of encouragement is something I’m learning to admire. I once heard the quote “people most often become what they’re told.” Tell someone they’re worthless enough times, soon enough they’ll believe it. Tell a kid they’re smart and special, they start having more confidence. Working at the school I’m constantly blown away by how much words of encouragement and small acts of love really make a difference in how people see themselves. I’m so incredibly grateful for my background with loving, encouraging parents because now I’m starting to realize how much that is a privilege and sadly not always the norm for kids. While I come home each day from school feeling pretty exhausted, it’s all worth it getting to spend time with such incredible kids. It’s funny, they’re the students but sometimes it feels like I’m learning more from them than they are from me.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
"Are You Lucky Here?"
It’s just past four and the outline of Table Mountain can be seen just outside the sunny window. Elsa and I are standing next to each other at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil for the ritual afternoon tea. She asks about my parents and if I miss them, inquires about if I’ll be around for Christmas. The Afrikaans/English/charades conversation continues in its own funny, heartfelt way with laughter filling in the silences. Pausing, Elsa looks at me with all sincerity and asks, “Are you lucky here?” I can tell she means “are you happy here?” but the language barrier brings a new side to the question.
Through the open door to my bedroom I can see the note one of the third graders wrote for me this afternoon sitting on the nightstand. I’d listened to her read and helped her understand some of the words, all the while encouraging her to keep up the incredible work. A little later she slipped a note to me with a shy grin. Written in what I could tell was her neatest handwriting it said:
“You only liveing once
Dear Jen thanks for help my teacher I no you come from America or South Amrica.
Rene Williams
I love you very much like a sweet and a lollypop.”
Commence acute attack of the warm fuzzies.
It’s been a month now in Cape Town with ups and downs, too many cups of tea (or maybe not enough), meeting more people than names I can remember, being adopted by my host family, Afrikaans lessons while playing cards with Elsa, and volunteering at both the church and local underprivileged elementary school. But the most important things to happen so far were the small moments connecting with people whose culture and language are a world away from my own. Accepting love isn’t always easy for me but here I feel completely surrounded by it. Every step of the way God has shown that He’s taking care of me, even miles and miles and miles away from home.
Am I lucky here? Lucky, happy, loved, full of hope, and blessed to serve.
I smile to Elsa with all my heart, “Yes, more that I can say.”
Through the open door to my bedroom I can see the note one of the third graders wrote for me this afternoon sitting on the nightstand. I’d listened to her read and helped her understand some of the words, all the while encouraging her to keep up the incredible work. A little later she slipped a note to me with a shy grin. Written in what I could tell was her neatest handwriting it said:
“You only liveing once
Dear Jen thanks for help my teacher I no you come from America or South Amrica.
Rene Williams
I love you very much like a sweet and a lollypop.”
Commence acute attack of the warm fuzzies.
It’s been a month now in Cape Town with ups and downs, too many cups of tea (or maybe not enough), meeting more people than names I can remember, being adopted by my host family, Afrikaans lessons while playing cards with Elsa, and volunteering at both the church and local underprivileged elementary school. But the most important things to happen so far were the small moments connecting with people whose culture and language are a world away from my own. Accepting love isn’t always easy for me but here I feel completely surrounded by it. Every step of the way God has shown that He’s taking care of me, even miles and miles and miles away from home.
Am I lucky here? Lucky, happy, loved, full of hope, and blessed to serve.
I smile to Elsa with all my heart, “Yes, more that I can say.”
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
How to Cure Hiccups, South African Style
Every culture seems to have it’s own “magic solution” to hiccups. My grandma told me if you held your breath and dramatically touched your pointer fingers together juuust right they’d automatically go away. As an elementary schooler I remember leaning upside down against a wall with a friend as we tried to turn our heads to look at each other to see if the hiccups had gone. No dice.
Some South African methods:
1. stick a match in your hair, close to your forehead so you look quite like a unicorn
2. put paper on your forehead. This works especially well if it is toilet paper, wet it (they didn’t say with what) if that fails to work.
Today I had an obnoxiously loud bout of hiccups. Anna looks over at me while driving us home from work/volunteering at the elementary school and just laughs.
“You know, you should try putting paper on your forehead.”
Blank stare.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, no, no! That’s how South Africans do it.”
…tentatively I reach down and put the cute picture one of the students drew for me on my forehead, skepticism running high.
Hiccups, instantly gone.
Call me crazy, but I’m a believer. (though juries still out if this newfound belief will ever lead to sticking wet toilet paper on my forehead)
Some South African methods:
1. stick a match in your hair, close to your forehead so you look quite like a unicorn
2. put paper on your forehead. This works especially well if it is toilet paper, wet it (they didn’t say with what) if that fails to work.
Today I had an obnoxiously loud bout of hiccups. Anna looks over at me while driving us home from work/volunteering at the elementary school and just laughs.
“You know, you should try putting paper on your forehead.”
Blank stare.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, no, no! That’s how South Africans do it.”
…tentatively I reach down and put the cute picture one of the students drew for me on my forehead, skepticism running high.
Hiccups, instantly gone.
Call me crazy, but I’m a believer. (though juries still out if this newfound belief will ever lead to sticking wet toilet paper on my forehead)
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Mina's Story
Apartheid, legalized racism to the extreme, tore apart South Africa for decades and only recently ended in 1994. The stories that survivors have to tell are powerful examples of the strength of the human spirit and fight for justice.
While drinking tea together after dinner my host mom Mina shared this story with me about her friend Anne:
*note: this is paraphrased as close as possible to her exact words
“Anne was always the most outspoken of us. She was gentle and kind and loving but she could not stand for injustice. As a teacher she would talk against [Apartheid] in her classrooms and was outspoken at school meetings. I was in the marches but she was a leader. They went after the leaders.
Anne lived alone; they came in the middle of the night. It was ten days after she was in my wedding, 1985. They took her to prison and put her in a tiny cell to break her spirit. Anna and I would sew short messages on paper into the hems of t-shirts and send them to her. She knew to find them; they helped to keep her strong. We were never allowed to see her so instead we asked a Swedish pastor serving at the prison where her cell was and would stand outside and shout to her from the street side. When police came by to ask what we were doing we pretended that we were waiting for a komvi (van) to come.
While she was there I found out that I was pregnant and wanted to tell her. I stood at the street and shouted the message to her, tears running down my face. Anna was beside me, telling me not to let the police see my tears and yelled encouragements to Anne to not let them break her spirit. We asked the Swedish pastor what we could do to help and he encouraged us to keep fighting, marching, and signing petitions.
They had no official charges against her and Anne was released after six months. She returned home in the middle of the night and we immediately drove the 2 hours to go see her and celebrate. Anne was so skinny it looked unhealthy. But they hadn’t crushed her spirit.”
While drinking tea together after dinner my host mom Mina shared this story with me about her friend Anne:
*note: this is paraphrased as close as possible to her exact words
“Anne was always the most outspoken of us. She was gentle and kind and loving but she could not stand for injustice. As a teacher she would talk against [Apartheid] in her classrooms and was outspoken at school meetings. I was in the marches but she was a leader. They went after the leaders.
Anne lived alone; they came in the middle of the night. It was ten days after she was in my wedding, 1985. They took her to prison and put her in a tiny cell to break her spirit. Anna and I would sew short messages on paper into the hems of t-shirts and send them to her. She knew to find them; they helped to keep her strong. We were never allowed to see her so instead we asked a Swedish pastor serving at the prison where her cell was and would stand outside and shout to her from the street side. When police came by to ask what we were doing we pretended that we were waiting for a komvi (van) to come.
While she was there I found out that I was pregnant and wanted to tell her. I stood at the street and shouted the message to her, tears running down my face. Anna was beside me, telling me not to let the police see my tears and yelled encouragements to Anne to not let them break her spirit. We asked the Swedish pastor what we could do to help and he encouraged us to keep fighting, marching, and signing petitions.
They had no official charges against her and Anne was released after six months. She returned home in the middle of the night and we immediately drove the 2 hours to go see her and celebrate. Anne was so skinny it looked unhealthy. But they hadn’t crushed her spirit.”
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
A Long Overdue Life Update
Hello everyone!
I think it’s just about time for a life update. Sorry it’s taken so long, I’ve been putting it off until things have officially come together. Nothing is still fully set but by now I have my bearings much more than when I arrived super tired, sick, and full of anticipation 3 weeks ago. The delay in part has to do with the switch in placement from Kimberley to Cape Town but is also quite to do with South African Time. As one person put it: if you expect to do more than one thing in a day you’re in too much of a hurry.
Life update: Mina and Mesheck, members of my host church, have graciously invited me into their home to live for my first month here. Along with Mina’s elderly mother and her caretaker, Elsa, we are constantly laughing, cooking, talking, and drinking tea together. Mina had two sons and is so excited to finally have a daughter that she told my parents she’s not giving me back. Elsa, who speaks only Afrikaans plus a smidgen of English, and I play cards together regularly and she teaches me Afrikaans as we play. We’re becoming friends despite the language barrier and she showed me yesterday that she had set a picture of me as the backdrop to her phone. Love has no language :)
While volunteer placements have been coming together I’ve been helping out at church and will be re-starting the youth group with Shane, a guy my age from a nearby town that is also at the church for a year. It’s completely dead now so we have a challenge in front of us but I’m excited for it. I’ve also spent some time at a local elementary school that’s unfortunately in a rough neighborhood. My next door neighbor is a teacher there and the kids are incredible. When I visited the kids’ jaws dropped after I pointed how far away I was from on the globe. But the opportunity I’m SUPER EXCITED about is a chance to volunteer at a Red Cross as a kid cuddler. Some kids there have families that can’t visit often so they ask volunteers to come in to show them lots of love on a regular basis. Am I excited? YES YES YES. Hopefully I can work that out!
Life is a constant adventure and I never know what will happen the next day. I’m learning to take each day as it comes and savor it for the beautiful moments that come along unexpectedly and make it all worthwhile.
Now that I’ve finally gotten internet sorted out(after hearing the sales rep tell me buying internet online was “a bit dodgy, man” I took matters into my own hands and now have limited but reliable access) I’ll be posting here more regularly. So many stories to tell!
Love from South Africa,
Jen
I think it’s just about time for a life update. Sorry it’s taken so long, I’ve been putting it off until things have officially come together. Nothing is still fully set but by now I have my bearings much more than when I arrived super tired, sick, and full of anticipation 3 weeks ago. The delay in part has to do with the switch in placement from Kimberley to Cape Town but is also quite to do with South African Time. As one person put it: if you expect to do more than one thing in a day you’re in too much of a hurry.
Life update: Mina and Mesheck, members of my host church, have graciously invited me into their home to live for my first month here. Along with Mina’s elderly mother and her caretaker, Elsa, we are constantly laughing, cooking, talking, and drinking tea together. Mina had two sons and is so excited to finally have a daughter that she told my parents she’s not giving me back. Elsa, who speaks only Afrikaans plus a smidgen of English, and I play cards together regularly and she teaches me Afrikaans as we play. We’re becoming friends despite the language barrier and she showed me yesterday that she had set a picture of me as the backdrop to her phone. Love has no language :)
While volunteer placements have been coming together I’ve been helping out at church and will be re-starting the youth group with Shane, a guy my age from a nearby town that is also at the church for a year. It’s completely dead now so we have a challenge in front of us but I’m excited for it. I’ve also spent some time at a local elementary school that’s unfortunately in a rough neighborhood. My next door neighbor is a teacher there and the kids are incredible. When I visited the kids’ jaws dropped after I pointed how far away I was from on the globe. But the opportunity I’m SUPER EXCITED about is a chance to volunteer at a Red Cross as a kid cuddler. Some kids there have families that can’t visit often so they ask volunteers to come in to show them lots of love on a regular basis. Am I excited? YES YES YES. Hopefully I can work that out!
Life is a constant adventure and I never know what will happen the next day. I’m learning to take each day as it comes and savor it for the beautiful moments that come along unexpectedly and make it all worthwhile.
Now that I’ve finally gotten internet sorted out(after hearing the sales rep tell me buying internet online was “a bit dodgy, man” I took matters into my own hands and now have limited but reliable access) I’ll be posting here more regularly. So many stories to tell!
Love from South Africa,
Jen
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