Learning Overload.

Today was chock full of learning. Learning about the history and politics of South Africa; learning about the challenges facing South African NGOs. And learning about myself.

Lee Anne arrived last night (yay!); Ben, Marita, and I picked her up from the airport around 22:00 (I'm trying to force myself to get used to the 24-hour clock; John LaBella would be proud). After some cheese and crackers, and wine, we hit the hay around 1.

This morning we were up and out by 8 to catch the Jammie (shuttle) to the University of Cape Town (UCT) campus for a day of classes. On the shuttle ride, I got the morning headlines. They (the powers that be) post the days' headlines on lamp posts in English and Afrikaans. So in the one short ride I learned that a mother strangled her nine year old, Zuma said he'll remain president, there was a fire on the R44, and some soccer player got a multi-million ZAR deal. I like the avenue of which they deliver the headlines.

Anyways. The campus is breathtaking. It looks like one of those college campuses that is only in movies, it's not an educational institution that students actually learn at - it's a movie set. This one is for real, though. It sits on the side of Table Mountain and it offers the most surreal views. And the students! So many languages, so many races and ethnicities, so much energy. So much excitement about education and something fresh; you get the sense that nothing is taken for granted - UCT was only desegregated in '96.

We met all the UConn students that are in the program. I was able to make some connections with some students: Stephanie, who I'll be going to volunteer with on Tuesday (at Saartjie Baartman) and Michelle, who is my age and very warm. She offered to take us to the beach, townships, and Table Mountain. We were also able to talk a bit about jobs and getting into the world of non-profits, as she's about the graduate.

The first class was History and Politics of South Africa with Vincent. I learned so much! I know I've been saying that quite a bit, but it's true. I gained knowledge about the negotiations between the ANC and NP that led to Mandela's release from prison. I learned about the role the arms deals had in South Africa reaching their first democratic election. I also learned that although 1994 was considered a miracle and a success, it was only relevant to the outcome of the new political structure. There are still major challenges when it comes to the country's social and economic transformation (ie., the redistribution of wealth and land). It was a three hour class; I took notes (and enjoyed it!). And I look forward to reading the paper summarizing 300 years of South African history that Vincent just emailed me.

During lunch at a small restaurant serving traditional African food, I saw yet another Obama bumper sticker. It was stuck on the cooler not far from the painting of continental Africa on the wall.

The three hour afternoon class was taught by Vernon, who spoke about the challenges that NGOs have faced within the new democracy (loss of funding; "Cinderella causes"; the governance; etc). He also checked in with the students about their experiences thus far in Cape Town. What have the students' best experiences been? What have been their most challenging moments? What makes an authentic Cape Townean experience (a resounding "ride the minibus" response was heard)? How do you deal with the contradictions and disparities in Cape Town without becoming overwhelmed? Why does he use the term "so-called coloured" instead of "coloured"?

...that was an interesting conversation that he and I actually had during the break. And it was interesting to witness the class discussion.

[Aside: history and definitions follow. Historically, "coloured" is a socially constructed label assigned by the white apartheid regime that classifies the offspring of white and indigenous relations (often, not consensual). There used to be arbitrary tests (like the pencil test) to determine race. Today, a person classified as coloured in South Africa, in the U.S. may be known as someone of mixed race. Coloured folks are considered inferior to white people and superior to Africans (black). Divide and conquer was part of the white apartheid regime - tension was systematically created between classified as coloured people and classified Africans. Since apartheid ended, some people (including Vernon) classified as coloured have denounced that label and self-identified as, and embraced, black. (Thus, identifying with their Khoisan ancestors.) However, some people classified as coloured still identify themselves as such, distancing themselves from black Africans. A critique of this is that they are subscribing to the white apartheid way of thinking, are denouncing their African ancestors, and showing passive indifference to the rape of said ancestors.]

Sorry for the rant. But, anyways, it was really interesting to be in a classroom setting (umm, the grad school bug had me a bit itchy), but not be directly involved. I was very aware of being an observer. I didn't want to take away from the students' experiences and discussions. So I sat in the back, quietly taking notes... and biting my tongue! There were several times when I wanted to speak up, answer a question, challenge a person's statements, offer my thoughts, etc. It was an interesting experience to want to, but consciously choose not to.

After class we headed into town and grabbed a bite to eat before heading over to the Book Lounge for a reading and discussion of AIDS, Sex, and Culture: Global Politics and Survival in Southern Africa. Parts of it were very powerful. I probably would have enjoyed it more though, if I wasn't exhausted and nodding off to sleep. Oops!

I had a significant self-revelation today, as well. As truly incredible as these five days have been, I've been noticing something shift. I appreciate every single, solitary moment of this trip, but the last day or two I have noticed that I've been a bit cranky. Then I get mad at myself that I'm in a less than delightful mood while in Cape Town. I think I discovered the culprit today: since I arrived here on Saturday night, I have not spent one moment by myself. Aside from sleep and showers, nothing. Everyone I'm spending my time with is truly amazing and I'm honored to know them. That being said, I absolutely value my alone time. When at home, I have a good amount of Greta time and I genuinely treasure it. I leave work and go to the gym by myself, cook and eat dinner by myself, read my book alone in bed. I enjoy going to the movies by myself. On a Saturday afternoon, I'll spend a few hours at my favorite coffee shop. Sometime it's in quiet, sometime I'm writing or reading or listening to music. But it's alone. I make it a point to do things by myself, and thus, for myself. Sometimes I get lonely, but I value the independence and solo time. I consider it self-care. It allows me to process things and enjoy silence and just be. Since in Cape Town, that has been missing. Everyday we are going and doing and seeing and talking and learning and experiencing amazement. I wouldn't change it for anything, but now that I know my way around a bit I'm more comfortable going off on a solo adventure. Tomorrow afternoon I may go for a run around the Rondebosch commons or walk into town to find a coffee shop or something by myself. I think if I have that I'll appreciate my time here more. And it's kind of awesome to learn how much I love my independence; it makes me feel strong.