Marimba Lessons

On Monday, our South African Music class took a field trip.  We went to St. Dominic's Priory - and were treated to a marimba concert by their high school students.

In music class, we had previously learned that marimbas were brought into South Africa from Zimbabwe in the late 70's, as an initiative of Father David Dargie.  He had been charged with the task of making Roman Catholic music more accessible to African worshippers.  Marimbas are tuned to notes similar to original instruments of the Xhosa people.  (With some minor key notes, the marimba scale is also closely linked with American blues!)

This girl could really play the bass line!

The St. Dominic's students started with a concert for us.  Having all auditioned in 5th grade, they had been making music together for at least 4 years.  They were not playing liturgical music, however, but the most recent of pop tunes!

Then, our students were given a lesson.  The beauty of the marimba is that with only a brief lesson, anyone can play it.

Joe played bass...

Meggan & Molly played tenor..

Adding in the background percussion..

Anyone could play!

Another fun lesson and day.  I want to go back to college full-time!

The "Lesser" Animals

Everyone, including me, was really excited about seeing some of the Big 7 animals on our recent trip to Addo and Schotia.  One lion group I didn't mention before had these two almost grown sons and a lioness.   I think 'the boys' look just like Simba and Scar, while the mom just looks exhausted!

I'm Simba: Future King

I'm just lying!

I'm Scar - and lying in wait

But, I wanted to also post some pictures of what are sometimes called here "the lesser animals."  These were still absolutely stunning.

Wildebeest
Doesn't his back half look like a horse?

Springbok -
South Africa's National Animal

Nyala

Port Elizabeth - Musings

Poverty is concentrated in the townships of South Africa, the inverse of what we see in the US where central city areas are often poorer.  Here, the central cities hold the wealth.  For example, in Port Elizabeth - a city of one million - approximately 150,000 people live in the first class tourist town we experience.

Port Elizabeth seascape

And. Port Elizabeth is gorgeous.  With beautiful beaches and weather, it offers a natural playground.  The area we live in, called Summerstrand, is in the heart of the tourist area.

Recently, a tourism development called the Boardwalk opened nearby.  I haven't visited, but it's advertised as offering "Western appeal" --- it has a casino, arcade, candy shop, mini-donuts.  This makes me sad.  I wish that eco-tourism, and visits to township homes, and opportunities to make cross-cultural friendships would as readily be considered to hold Western appeal.  (I know many Americans who would be interested.  Maybe I should go and talk to the tourism board...)

An aspect of Port Elizabeth that seems striking to me is that virtually every private home is surrounded by a cement wall.  And, the high wall is the least of it.  On top are often metal spikes, or barb wire, or an electric fence, or a combination.  Signs on the wall announce which security company watches the house.

Electric fencing and armed guard

One of the authors I've been reading here is South African Nobel Literature Laureate Nadine Gordimer.  While not a light read, she's a good read.  One of her short stories called Once Upon a Time speaks of these fences:  "When the man and wife and little boy took the pet dog for its walk round the neighborhood streets they no longer paused to admire this show of roses or that perfect lawn; these were hidden behind an array of security fences, walls, and devices.  The man, wife, little boy and dog passed the remarkable choices: there was the low-cost option of pieces of broken glass embedded in cement along the top of the wall, the iron grilles ending in lance-points, the attempts at reconciling the aesthetics of prison architecture with Spanish Villa facades (spikes painted pink) or with neoclassical facades (spikes finned like zigzags of lightning and painted white)."   

Sharp stars atop tall wall

This is not purely fiction; I have seen each wall-top she describes.  Because of fear, the people with money literally lock themselves up.  Gated communities in America feel the same to me.   Surely, there's a better way to achieve security for all...

How to Speak South African

Everyone speaks English here, but the English contains a mix of languages and some invented words. Here are a few of the words that we commonly encounter:

•  A traffic light is called a robot; a sidewalk is called a pavement.
•  Some car parts are referred to by their British english names, e.g. "boot" for trunk and "bonnet" for engine.  However, a pickup truck is called a bakkie.  This word, pronounced like "lucky," is Afrikaans, I think.   Many people own bakkies in South Africa, particularly in the more rural areas.
• "Ag" is a multi-purpose word; it can stand alone or is used for emphasis, like "ach" in German.  "Ag, I don't know."
•  "Just now."  While seemingly clear, this phrase is actually used to mean "eventually."  If someone says he will do it "just now,"  be warned that it might be in 10 minutes, 10 hours, or never.
•  One that we run into often is "diary," used for a personal calendar.  Diary can also become a verb, so someone will say about a meeting you're scheduling, "I will diarize that." 

One phrase I love to hear: whenever I say "thank you" to someone, the response is very often "pleasure."  Shortened from "my pleasure," it has a lyrical sound.  I hope you can imagine it.

Finally, I am learning a few Xhosa sentences.  Xhosa speakers use "clicks" in their language for three of the letters:  x, c, and q.  Jim found us this great website for learning Xhosa.  Take a moment to go there and hear it spoken.  Consider it your first Xhosa lesson!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZlp-croVYw 

Braai and Bridge

Saturday, Jim and I were invited to a local couple's home for a barbeque, which is called a braai here.  We sat next to their daughter on the plane when we came to Port Elizabeth, and her Mom and I had met for morning tea once before.  Their names are Peter and Shelley Owen.  They are our age - and very nice.

When Shelley and I met earlier in the week, we started with a walk along the beach.  She turned to me and asked if I had brought along my costume.  Thankfully, I was able to tell from the context that she was referring to a swimsuit, so I didn't make a fool of myself in my answer.

A braai (pronounced as in "high") is a very popular way to entertain in South Africa.  People often bring their own meat selection, and then eat and visit late into the evening.  Some guide books state that South Africa introduced the barbeque to the world.  Surprisingly, there are very few restaurants that serve barbequed meat, but you'll see many people setting up grates between bricks or over metal drums in the parks.

The Owens' lovely home has two braais built in:  one braai is in their large garden patio room;  the second smaller one is built in right off their kitchen.   We were served a delicious meal in the patio room.  We brought wine (South African, of course) and fresh fruit.  On their braai, Peter grilled kudu sausages, Boerewors sausage, lamb chops, chicken skewers, and portabella mushrooms stuffed with feta cheese.  They also had broasted potatoes, a tomato salad, cooked pumpkin, and several other items.  (I'll be embarrassed if they ever come to visit and I serve them soup and a salad!)

After supper, we played some bridge - men against the women.  Shelley and I squeaked by the guys by thirty points.  All in all, a great evening.

Schotia Safari

Schotia Private Game Preserve abuts Addo, so we took the opportunity to go on our first safari.   The 32 of us were divided into land rovers, and each rover took off on a different path for an afternoon/ evening safari. 

Schotia safari!

Eating, not eaten - yet!

 Schotia is thirty years old as a game preserve, but the land has been in the Bean family for six generations.  For many centuries, it was a large cattle farm.  I don’t know how many acres they have, but the land they own stretches as far as my eye could see.   Now they have the land “stocked” with native African animals.  But it is not a zoo; they don’t feed (or cage) the animals.  The animals live “naturally” – and the effects of a recent giraffe kill by lions were evident, with bones, hair, and sinew strewn about in one area.

The afternoon and evening were perfect.  We were able to spot many of the 40 species that inhabit their lands --- and, not far off in the distance either.  Because these animals are used to the land rovers, we were able to drive very close.  

We stopped for this rhino, for example, which grazed right by and in front of our rover.  Seeing them this close, I can easily appreciate what I've always heard - that they date to the dinosaur age.  If you cover the horn with your hand, its face looks exactly like a dinosaur's.  They have very poor eyesight, but great hearing.  I was intrigued by the almost eyelash-looking hairs on the edges of their ears.

Note the ear-lashes!

That one looks like a tasty treat!

There seemed to be only one animal the animals were afraid of; most had posted sentries watching for the lions.  And, they should be afraid.  This guy seems to be saying, "Come just a little closer."

Sentries

 One of the highlights of our time concerned the lions.  As we were driving along, someone spotted two lionesses coming out of the bush quite far away, but headed in our direction.  Our driver simply stopped and turned off the jeep.  We waited to see what they would do.    They kept coming, and then they called -- “Meoorr.”   Suddenly, five lion cubs came out of the grass ahead of us, bounded down the road we were on, and ran to their mothers.  Our guide explained that the lionesses had hidden the cubs because they had to go out hunting.  The female lionesses didn’t bring any meat back, but the cubs did nurse upon their return.  We sat and watched that, too.   It was quite the sequence of touching scenes – one the ranger said he hadn’t seen enacted in his years as a ranger there.  

Yum!

Addo National Elephant Park

Yesterday we all went to Addo, the third largest national park in South Africa.  Very near Port Elizabeth, it took us less than one hour to get there.  Addo has become very popular for European tourists, as it is malaria-free (while Kruger National Park is not).

Two elephant skulls and two numb-skulls

Addo is known for its elephants, and is a great story of animal renewal.   Because of ivory poaching and loss of habitat, the number of free-roaming African elephants in the region had by 1985 dwindled to eleven!   After setting aside a protected elephant section of the park, now there are nearly 500, making Addo one of the densest elephant populations in the world.  

Still, because it is a park and not a game preserve, they caution you that you may not see any when you visit.  But, we lucked out!  It was a hot day in Addo – in the high 90’s, and I think every elephant around decided to come to the water holes to cool off.  Jim estimates that we saw over 200 throughout the day.

My foot in the footprint of an elephant.

Elephants are the largest mammals on land.  The males can weigh 7.5 tons; the females 2-3 tons.

"Baby Elephant Walk"

Elephant herds are female-dominated.  The herds are usually comprised of females, babies, and sexually immature male elephants.  When the male elephant reaches sexual maturity, his mother has the job of chasing him away from the group.  It is nature's way of preventing inbreeding.  Our guide says that it is very sad to watch, as the young male often doesn't want to leave.   Elephants are very social animals, and enjoy physical contact.  But, if the mother is unsuccessful in chasing him away, the other females do so, only using harsher methods.

Elephants are very social animals!

This last picture is not of a malformed elephant with five legs.  Because it was so hot, this elephant was cooling off by extending his penis.  We learned that the elephant penis itself weighs 150 pounds.  I was naughty, and told our male students they should post a picture with the caption "Second largest penis in the world" - and just not mention that the whale has the first largest!

Anatomically correct young male

Addo is also one of the only places in the world with flightless dung beetles.  Their job is to break down the elephant poop; it is a natural "composter."  It is illegal in the park to drive over a dung beetle, or even drive over elephant poop as it might contain dung beetles.  I guess with all the elephants in the park, the rangers feel the dung beetles have a lot of work to do…

Two Happy Birthdays!

Today (February 21st) is the birthday of two of our five grandchildren.  Madelyn Rae turns FOUR today, and Serenity Ann turns TWO.   We hope they know how often we think of them.  Today, Jim and I couldn't find cupcakes, so we bought "hot cross buns," put candles in them, and blew them out in Teddy and Maddie's honor.

For those of you who don't know, we left five wonderful grandchildren behind when we left for South Africa (with Nick and Destini's little one on the way).  The weekend right before we left in January, we held "cousin camp" at our house.  All five grandchildren stayed overnight.  We dressed up in costumes, rode the new horse that John Mallo made us for Christmas, watched the movie Dolphin Tale (with popcorn!), and giggled late into the night.  Papa Jim and I often look at these pictures to remind us of the fun:

Happy Birthday, Teddy!

Happy Birthday, Maddie!

Sweet Music and Loud Soccer

Jim and I spent Sunday, February 18, outside.  (Eat your hearts out, Minnesotans!)  At 10 a.m., we went to music in the park.   Spreading our blanket on the grass, we sat and listened to the East Cape orchestra.  They played an eclectic mix of music - from Queen to a Disney medley.  My favorite part was their featured vocalist.  Her name was Zolani, and she had a wonderful voice.  She sang some original music that set the crowd to hopping.   The song I smiled at the most had these lyrics, "Fat thighs, flabby arms, and a potbelly make for sweet loving."

  

After the music, we had brunch with friends - again, outside.  We finished just in time to get to my first soccer game here.  (Jim went last Wednesday night, too.)  As one of the principals we work with observed, "South Africans love their sports."  Almost every conversation you have with someone gets around to sports at some point.  On Sunday, we watched the Orlando Pirates, a South African team, take on a team from Angola.  The crowd really got into the game; unfortunately, the Pirates didn't.  They lost 3-1.  But, it was really fun to be part of a crowd that exuded so much energy - from their horns to their hats.

The Windy City

Forgive me, Paul and Connie, but I'll never again be able to call Chicago the windy city.   I just don't know if it can rival Port Elizabeth.  PE is known as The Windy City here - and when the winds whip up, they are something to behold.   They send fine beach sand up into your rooms, your eyes, your hair.

Last weekend, Jim and I saw the wind's effects in two separate ways.  We decided to take a drive, traveling west along the shore.   At one point where we stopped to walk, the wind and wave action had churned the water up into a real froth.  Foam was flying everywhere; it was the closest to snow that we seen for some time.  As we walked along the beach, we'd become covered in suds.  My grandchildren would have liked all bubbles (if they could have stayed on their two feet).

Then, on Sunday, Jim and I went golfing at the Humewood golf course with two friends.  Against that wind, I pooped out after 11 holes, but Jim walked all 18.   One hole, Jim chipped onto the green and the ball ended up about 25 feet from the hole.  Jim was looking at the lie, but before he walked up and addressed the ball, it started moving again.  The wind pushed it nearly 15 feet closer to the pin!   Jim just smiled and sunk the putt.

Red Location Valentine's Day

Valentines' eve, we got "dressed up" and went back to the Mamas' backpackers location for a party.

We were welcomed with big smiles, and some hugs.  We watched native Xhosa dancers.  I can't describe the drumming, the feet moving, the singing, the joy.  Maybe these pictures can show you...

Meanwhile, the Mamas cooked up a meal.  It was fun watching the reactions of the students as they tasted: pumpkin (familiar), samp and beans (less so), millet and cabbage, and stomach lining of the ox.  Only the bravest of the brave tried the last item.  Even I left mine on my plate after one bite!

Tucker Gets in the Act

It was their first-ever event held for international guests, and several local dignitaries were there.  One man said to the students, "I hope that you will come back in 10 years or 20 years, and see a much-used neighborhood center filled with people from around the world.  And, you'll be able to say, "I was here at their first event."  I hope that too!

Missionvale Care Center & School

Tomorrow, February 13th, we all start volunteering.  (See my postings on Pendla Primary School and House of Resurrection Haven for the first two locations to which the CSB/SJU students will disperse.)

The third service option is located in Missionvale, one of the poorest townships around PE.  As described to us, Missionvale residents are still waiting for the newer (promised) government supplied housing. While they wait, they continue to live in corrugated iron or particleboard cottages and shacks.  For water, sixteen communal taps serve approximately 50,000 people.  Most children must first haul water before their school day starts.  One piece of good news is that the tap-provided water is clean, safe drinking water.

Our students will be volunteering at Missionvale Care Center.  The center is actually a complex, with several service areas through which our students will rotate:  nutrition feeding, home health visiting, a used clothing distribution, and an R-4 primary school.  This center looks really efficient.  It is run by an Irish nun named Sister Ethel who came to Missionvale Township in1988.  She started what today is Missionvale under a tree, by offering 'school' for the street children nearby.  From that beginning, this care center has grown.  Wondrous, really.

Nutrition packet for one.

That's not to say that they are lavish.  The center is is totally dependent on donations.  Few services are given out "for free."  For example for the nutrition program, each person served is to bring a glass, tin, or cardboard item to recycle in exchange.  After waiting in the sun (on benches) for possibly hours, they are given their daily portion - a half-loaf of bread, and a soup base that is reputably very nutritious.  (Sister Ethel thinks that it is better to give food that can be made and eaten at home as a family, than simply provide cooked food.)  The sight of a person's amount seems paltry to us, but they give thanks for what they receive.

Our students look like naturals...

Britt and New Friend

What is your name?

"We're Out of Warthog"

Well, I tried.  I have been fascinated by the prospect of eating warthog.  Friday night I ordered it, only to be told that "the kitchen was out of warthog!"  It's probably just as well.  With the re-release of The Lion King, I would have had some grandkids upset that I ate Pumbaa.  I ordered springbok instead - excellent.  Tonight, Jim cooked us some ostrich.  It was really good - and no, it didn't taste like chicken.  It actually was closer to beef.

I love trying foods that are unique to an area.  One restaurant that all of us here have become addicted to is Nando's.  It is a worldwide chain (I know it's in D.C., Jean!) that started here in Port Elizabeth.  The original place was opened by a Portuguese family, and was called Fernando's.  It is a fast food restaurant, but everything is cooked fresh.  Great, spicy sauces.

I also enjoy noticing a few differences in food packaging.  My favorite so far in South Africa is found on the corner or flap you use to open a container.  Here, it is clearly labeled:  "Lift thingy"

Red Location Museum & "The Mamas"

On Thursday, we visited The Red Location Museum. The museum is named after the corrugated iron barracks and shacks that the majority of Port Elizabeth's "Blacks, Coloured, Indians and Chinese" were forcefully moved to in the early 1900s. The shacks eventually rusted a bright red.

Also called "The Anti-Apartheid Museum," it is hard to take it all in. One series of photographs shows the shooting of unarmed protestors by the state police, including a chilling arial view of their caskets being carried down the street. The accompanying songs - and sounds of crying - leave you feeling haunted. Another room has replicas of the actual case files the police had open on people. The files reach from floor to ceiling.

After that museum, we needed some lighter fare. Bradley took us to a small township cafe which several older "mamas" run to earn some money for their families. In the townships, the term "mama" is reserved for older women, and is used as a greeting of respect. Bradley asked the Mamas to tell some of their life stories.

As students listened intently, one woman told of her dad who was shot, another of a child who didn't come home one day. Another spoke of being imprisoned - at Christmas - for not carrying her "pass" saying she could be in a certain area of town. How could they not carry a belly of bitterness???

Here are all the Mamas, plus one.

Route 67

Port Elizabeth is situated within the Nelson Mandela Bay Area, and is the only area of South Africa given the privilege of using his name.  When reading his autobiography, A Long Walk to Freedom (highly recommended), I was struck by how often the Port Elizabeth area was an epicenter of resistance to apartheid.  One reason people here give is that most of the black people of this area are Xhosa - of only one ethnic descent - so it was easier to communicate and unite.

Yesterday, we walked the newly opened Route 67.  Route 67 aims to celebrate Nelson Mandela's 67- year role in South African public life; its vision is to create a walking trail with 67 works of public art.   Ten are finished currently.

We walked from the historical city center of Port Elizabeth - where you can easily see the British and Dutch influence in the architecture - up a hill toward the area's original lighthouse.  This is the group of us under the South African flag.

My favorite work of art was at the top of the hill.  As you wound your way up the last incline, there is an artistic rendering of all the people waiting in line to vote in the first democratic election of 1994.  (Not that long ago.)  There were silhouettes of people being brought to the polls in wheelbarrows; kids playing in the dirt while their parents waited, and - based on dress - people of all different economic classes.

People of all hues

Everyone votes!

Brought in wheelbarrows

   I hope these pictures do the artist some justice...

It was very moving to me - as we often take our freedoms for granted, like the air we breathe.

Seals, Shells, Seashore

On Saturday,  Jim and I drove to Cape St. Francis, a rocky point guarded by a large old Lighthouse.   We took a walk out to Seal Point, and - yes, indeed - we did see one.  Jim tried to walk too close, and it lunged, barked (like a dog), then flipped into the sea.

I felt that Jim and I were living the old tongue twister, "She sells seashells by the seashore."
The beach was filled with shells - whole shells, broken shells, shells of all kinds.  Some shells had not yet stopped being someone's house...

We went to the nearby Penguin Rescue and Rehab Center.   This is a center that provides temporary care to African Penguins that are injured, displaced, or affected by oil spills.  The Center's work is all aimed at releasing them back to sea.  As such, the public is not allowed inside.  But, we could watch them through a window, at a pool that was called - with a great deal of humor - The Penguin Hilton.

(This guy must be the lifeguard..)

African Penguins are endangered; we have gone from 4 million in the world in early 1900's to fewer than 55,000 in 2010.  One "good news" story told at the Center was about a great rescue effort in 2000.  In June of 2000, the MV Treasure sank between Robben and Dassen Islands near Cape Town, releasing over a thousand tons of fuel oil at the epicenter of their breeding areas.  Thousands of oiled birds were brought to a warehouse in Cape Town for cleaning.  Nineteen thousand un-oiled birds were trucked to Port Elizabeth where they were immediately placed back into the sea.  Their homing instinct kicked in, and they swam 500 miles back to the two islands.  It took them 3 weeks, by which time the oil had been cleaned up or dissipated.  This is called the largest animal rescue in history-- and 91% of the birds made it!

The Answer

On Friday, Jim and I went to visit a St. Benedict's graduate ('81) who lives in nearby Jeffry's Bay.  Jeffry's Bay is known primarily for its surfing - especially the "super-tube"effect the waves make there.  It's a small beautiful resort town that is, again, surrounded by very poor "townships" of primarily Xhosa people.

Jill

The alumna's name is Jill Thompson, and she has had quite the history since she left St. Joseph, Minnesota. She has been a Peace Corp volunteer in two different African countries before becoming Associate Country Director for both Mali and Botswana.  (Jim and she could trade Peace Corps stories!)  For the last five years, she's lived in Jeffry's Bay, starting up a micro-savings non-profit.

Quite often these days we read about the promise of micro-loans - small loans to set someone up in small-scale business ventures.  They are the rage in economic development.  So, what are micro-savings plans?  They are actually a cousin, but they flip the equation.  Instead of leading with debt (even small debt), this program encourages people to save first.  Once group savings have accrued, the savers make loans to one another.  No outside money is needed; no money is repaid to anyone outside the group.

Her program, called Mpendulo Savings, helps people in the townships form savings and lending groups.  Saving in the township is hard, as 50% of the residents are already in debt to money lenders called skoppers, or credit card companies.  If they do have some money to save, their small deposits in traditional savings accounts get quickly eaten up with bank fees.  Jill's group helps them work towards the elimination of their debt and/or the building of assets.

Savings "kit"

Each savings circle must agree to meet for a year.  They set their own ground-rules: how often they will meet, where, and the required savings target from each member/ each month.  Jill's staff (3 trainers) supports the groups by providing advice, some financial literacy training, and - most importantly - a unique savings "kit."  Since trust of one another is crucial (so you can trust that no one is tempted to run off with all the group's funds),  the kit comes with a unique "strongbox."   This simple metal box is locked on three sides; each side requires a unique key to open it.  To safeguard the money, three different people in the circle hold the keys, and a fourth person keeps the metal box.  All four must be present for any money to be withdrawn.

Show me the money!

Once savings have started accruing, they make loans to one another at a rate of 10%.  Jill's group now supports over 130 savings/lending circles.  We had the opportunity to visit one on Friday.  Held in a person's home, each member brought their savings target:  250 Rand.  The money is counted publicly and placed in the lockbox.

Counting the money

Savings group member

Before we left, I asked, "What does Mpendulo mean?"  Jill smiled self-consciously and said that the members came up with the name.  "In Xhosa, Mpendulo means 'the answer'."  While Mpendulo may not be the only answer to getting people out of poverty, it is proving to be one answer that works.  I liked the fact that it builds on the concept of "we have assets" rather than "please help us."