I’ve been re-reading these blog posts and I’ve realized a number of things:
1. My English is terrible. *cringe*
2. My post content is heavy in terms of my own observation that is not balanced with the locals observations, which would have somewhat skewered your interpretation of “The African Life” and “The African People”…
3. I really do have a terrible memory and I’m glad that I’ve noted some of the incidents on this blog…
4. I am a flawed person. There are aspects of my character & personality that I dislike. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate myself. You love me too much for me to feel that! =P Some aspects have been noted and some I’ve only recently realized. I’m sure I’ll discover yet some more. Hahaha. No, really, I am serious. Not sure about “how” but I want to be more self-aware and pro-active in changing my behaviour and attitudes. It’s not about perfecting for perfection as it is a matter of growing and maturing. So continue to be a friend, be honest with me in the future. We’ll survive. (I promise I will not karate chop you in my defence. hehe)
I’m going to try and remedy point no.2 now but, please understand, it is not possible to make one sweeping post to balance out the previous 40+ posts. That would just be another mistake for me.
Here goes, testing, testing- testing my memory that is…
I have established that people here, in the rural communities in Eastern Cape, are more than not curious about me and my presence. I’m considered an “umlungu” (white person) or, more specifically, I’m assumed a “Chinese”. They look, smile and, if they’re close (and not shy enough), they’d talk to me and touch my hair. So what do they ask me about? What is it that they reveal through what they tell or ask me? What are their assumptions?
The popular question is: “What do you eat?” On par would be “Can you teach me kung-fu (or karate)?” Believe it or not, when it comes to learning about other cultures, people are very curious about what one eats. Cindy, from Limpopo, has suffered her share of “food chats”. The youth and the mamas are often in awe when they find out that I eat Xhosa food as well, or that I would eat with a “black” person (e.g. Nosiphiwo, Cindy or the children). To their understanding, Australians and “Chinese” must be eating something completely different.
Similarly, they find it surprising (then, later, amusing) that I empty my own pee bucket, that I do my own washing, that I can cook and bake them delicious muffins, that I can learn a little Xhosa language etc. So when I mentioned before that I feel like “a freak” here, that is because in my daily encounters, I tend to surprise people more than not…
Where conversations can move to the next level, they refuse to believe me that the average age of women giving birth in Australia in around 30 years old. Remember, a third of all girls give birth to their firstborn by the time they turn 19. Teenage pregnancy here is so much of an issue that it is a norm. Or that we don’t travel around in “minibus taxis” or “bakkies”. That we have utility bills and not have to line up in a queue to buy electricity on a account card that you then have a pin to punch onto the meter box that every house has. Even more, we don’t lug the huge gas tank to town to buy gas when we run out. That the bus doesn’t run just once a day. That it’s normal and necessary to wear seatbelts; unlike here where spotting a (visible/accessible & usable) seatbelt is rare, like spotting a McDonald in the rural communities. That most of the shoe stores sell leather shoes; again, the frequency of finding leather shoes here is akin to seeing a café (it’s all instant coffee here). That corruption isn’t so blatant and “natural”. That we live in suburbs. That townships are non-existent. That we don’t live in mud huts. That we all have flushing toilets. That rape isn’t so common and that support is needed and given to them (it’s not uncommon to hear of rape victims getting raped again by the police when they go to the police station to report the crime, or that clinics shrug them off when they seek medical aid). At the same time, they don’t understand how I don’t know or talk to my neighbours. They are shocked that I’m 25 and not married or have babies already, as much as the fact that I don’t live at home with my family. They are semi-in-awe about my travelling alone but they wouldn’t do it because they can’t imagine surviving being away from their families- “I’m only living and working (or studying) in Joburg and I already miss my family so much! I wouldn’t want to travel overseas!”
It is very much a “grass in greener on the other side” kind of exchange in our evaluations. Nine out of 10 people here have life goals such as “buying a car and building my own house”. When I tried to explain to them that there is little sense of community where I come from, that people don’t sing or dance like them, that we are more selfish and less inclined to give or share, they simply couldn’t understand. Here, when you go onto a crowded taxi or train with heavy & big bags, even if the ride is over an hour long, some strangers will be holding your bags on their laps for the extent of their trip. Similarly, people pitch in to help you on the streets, in the shops, at the clinic, anywhere. As soon as they recognize that an extra hand can help or is required, they naturally extend to you their spare. Some of us (I’d say “most”), from our individualistic societies, will think “aww... that’s sweet and nice of them” but would think twice when we ourselves are in that situation. This is because we have adapted our mentality to “thinking” and “evaluating” in terms of “self” and “others”. We prioritize according to what is our gain or loss. “Should we bother to waste out time?” or “It’s not our responsibility. They can look after themselves.” We live in bubbles and, constantly, there is the invisible layer of separation between us.
I’ll admit. I’m guilty of that mentality. Thus, I have become more conscious to burst my own bubble and throw logics to the wind. It may feel like you’re being reckless and “foolish” at first but, nutty that I am, I feel more free. I guess this is what I meant when I wrote in the last post about giving and you’ll gain more in return. What we may see as “money loss” will bring us riches that may not be visible to others (i.e. such as a flashy car or a beautiful house) but they’re riches you can feel with every fibre of your being. Happiness soaks you up. I’m not preaching for you to shed all your materialistic wrappings. I am still too vain for that. Hahaha. But, guys, relax some, and stress less on creating a gold sheath for yourself/your family/your children. To be so weighed down is not worth it, gold or not. I know the common argument about having a successful career to enable you the freedom and access to all that leisure and pleasure that “only money” can bring. But, don’t forget, happiness is happiness. No more, no less. A person who is poorer does not mean their smile is less bright and joyful than one who is richer. You’d disagree by imagining them “dirt poor”. No, I mean you. How many people are content with what they earn or have in life? How many think that they can be richer (or, in other words, “less poor”)?
I was just thinking… Being a stressed and burnt-out cynic of a wealthy member of the upper crust of society is not that different to the “scums” who reek of alcohol. Both seek wealth to find happiness. The difference is that while one achieves, only to find empty joy, the other fails and loses their focus and faith in life altogether.
Like I said, I don’t suggest for you to give away what you “own”. I am only suggesting that you should just take a step back, from time to time, to appreciate the world around you, to feel proud of your own quiet achievements, to appreciate the people around you for who they are, and, more importantly, appreciate and love the person you are for who you are (not who you will be or can become).
Hahaha. I wonder if this “wisdom” derives from getting used to stripping bare to bathe in front of my partners (that is, female peer educator partner, you dirty freaks). LOL. We have come to associate our nakedness with something very personal, very private. That’s why it took close to a month into the partnership before I started washing in my partner’s presence. It took another 2 months for me to be slightly more comfortable. Hahaha. Oh, I’m completely comfortable now =P The point is, strip us of our clothes, our wallets, of everything, we are essentially the same as everyone else. No more. No less. Errr… well, I do feel a little “less” coz these “African chics” are better endowed. Hehehehe. You know what I mean.
SHEEEESSHHHHH
I really went off tangent there!
Back to remedying point no.2
There is a deep sense of history here. As natural as the innate rhythm that they express through singing and dancing, people have “roots”. Even when they think I’m Chinese, they’d ask to know my “clan name”. That is the root of identity. Having a clan name is as important as your surname. By history, I do not mean it in the “high school history book” sense that states dates & explained facts. History here is “tradition”, it is “the way of life”, the stuff that we’d scoff at and dismiss as myths & legends. I used to be very frustrated with Nosiphiwo when she could not rationalize or explain her arguments to me. Her infamous reply “I just know” drove me up the wall. Now, I can feel an inkling of understanding for her reply. I was just so adamant that I knew better, that I knew best. (One of my flaws… this smart-ass know-it-all flaw)
Xhosa people- and Africans in general, I’d say- are social animals. Please don’t have your imagination conjure up images of them clubbing or sipping wine in bars or shopping with their friends on their free time. That is the little world we live in, which narrows socializing or “having a social life” down to a handful of creative/fancy/alcohol-related activities. I only meant the basic definition of “social”, which means to interact with one another. While we place heavy emphasis on “privacy”, Xhosa people finds being alone “unnatural” because it’s normal to always be in the company of others, if not someone. I’m the only one I know who can easily spend a day in my own company. To them, I’m weird. Actually, I had to explain that I was sick or had to be busy with studying when I learnt that they were also offended by closing the bedroom door to separate our presence.
Absolute equality does not exist. The communities here would agree with you on rallying against child abuse or rape. However, you’d lose them if you want to march for absolute equality, particularly gender equality. Again, “human rights” or “rights” are mostly the product of Western thinking and often not understood to be embraced. There are many old societies that were built on hierarchy. Asian cultures that have evolved from Confucian philosophies, for example. It worked for them. For many years. Rome was not built in a day. Neither will a “free and democratic” South Africa. Power equates with hierarchy, and corruption happily manifests in both… People feel a dent in their pockets/wallet when they give bribery, not a pain to their “principles”.
I will stop here. Did say I will not try to amend my shortcomings within one sweeping post??? This has been more of a wordy, sprawling epic of a post than a sweeping one. Hehehe. As usual. ;)
It’s been a while.
Love, love, love
