Where is the HIV/AIDS Love?

Based off this:

Came this from a little help and creativity of my girls at Robanyane Toto II:

Where’s the Love on WORLD AIDS DAYS

By Robanyane Girls

Parent please support your children by fighting HIV and AIDS with love

Give them counseling

And guidance about

Unprotected sex

Children don’t mess

With your lyf

Handle it with care

Don’t date a stranger

And have unprotected sex

AIDS kills

You are the future of our country

And the leaders of

Tomorrow

[Chorus]

People killing, people dying

Children hurtin', hear them crying

Can you practice what you preach

Or would you turn the other cheek

Father father father father

Send some guidance from above

'Cause people got me, got me questioning

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love, the love, the love

Be who you are and say

What U feel because those who

Mind don’t matter

And those that matter

Don’t mind!!!

Trust nobody but God

And the world is not

My home, I’m a visitor

Best friends are

Hard 2 find

Harder 2 leave and impossible

2 4get!!!

People killing, people dying

Children hurtin', hear them crying

Can you practice what you preach

Or would you turn the other cheek

Father father father father

Send some guidance from above

'Cause people got me, got me questioning

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love, the love, the love

I promise to luv, ‘n compliment

Appreciate U

I promise 2 honour

Ur thoughts ‘n feelings

I promise 2 tell U de truth

In a loving way

I promise 2 accept ur

Uniqueness

I promise 2 evaluate de way we

Complement each day

I promise 2 spend de

Tym with U

I promise 2 express mi luv in

Many ways

I promise 2 luv u,

My unconditional

I promise 2 cheris U with

All my heart today on World AIDS Day!!!

People killing, people dying

Children hurtin', hear them crying

Can you practice what you preach

Or would you turn the other cheek

Father father father father

Send some guidance from above

'Cause people got me, got me questioning

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love

Where is the love, the love, the love

This will be performed tomorrow and I was told that part of it I'd solo....haha but we'll see. This week has been completely crazzzy with literally pulling an event out of my ass, which no one wanted to help me with. It included the making of 1000+ red ribbons with the help of students, pulling out of my ass again random-ass songs for us to all sing and writing songs with the girls. Drawing a few posters with, again, a little help of my students.

Then the day ended with the principal pulling me aside to say that I'd have to help him compile the rest of the School Development Plan, none of which was done and is due on Friday (!!in 2 days!!). Two items on the development plan will be assigned to me, so at least it's exciting to know that they totally trust me and are willing to lean on my leadership (a little too much, given I have no education background), but I just give in too much. That African smile that accompanies every request for help. I'm worried I'm pulling out a whole bunch of UN-SUSTAINABLE work here, yes from the rear again. But I worry that all their smiles will turn to frowns when I leave. So, I will from now on be making sure that every item I'm assigned to that there's got to be someone else working with me. It's all about TOTs (Training of Trainers ) in development, no? But anyways, LOTS of fun for World AIDS Day! Tomorrow will be fabulous and I'll have my camera to document it all :)

PS - a nice little speech by Hillary here, I was just thinking how nice it would be in be standing in her place doing a similar speech 30 years in the future saying you had been part of creating an AIDS FREE Generation. Wow. I need to work on my resume.

"My boy is failing because of the cabbage!!"

Woman throwing a fit at school since her grandson is failing Grade 4.

Today all the guardians and parents are coming to the school to refute or accept their child being held back in their class. Most come to deny their child be held back another year. The teachers here had to hold the pen of this woman who didn't want to hold back her grandson. Yelling and yelling about how the cabbage and pap served at the school wasn't enough and that's why he was failing. The teachers yelled back at her that "this is harassment" and laughing.

Hmmm...another day at school. Ha!

La preparación continua...Día Mundial del SIDA

Se acerca el Día Mundial del SIDA y todavía estoy trabajando en las preparaciones en la escuela para la celebración de este primero de diciembre.

Tenía un poco de ayuda de mis pequeños amigos en mi pueblo. Y despues de todo hicimos, empezaron a buscar mis fotos de la familia y amigos en mi computadora.

Estoy aqui, creo. Y esto es Peace Corps?

After a fabulous Thanksgiving meal yesterday, taking in a day of reading up on some education material and putting in some pool time at my cute hotel. And tonight's plans are TBD...maybe some more club dance action. I was called a "groover" the other day by a friend since I like going out to dance.

Peace Corps Thanksgiving @ Kuru Kuru

The food was good, but the Dinsmore house food is ALWAYS the best :)

Miss you!

1 week countdown till WORLD AIDS DAY, but first a goodbye

Above is a Grade R (Kindergarten) learner who just celebrated his graduation just weeks ago. We had an emergency staff meeting where his passing was mentioned to all of us, some teachers burst into tears. 5 Years old....wow. I think of all the U.N. Millennium Goals, one being to work on lowering infantile death rates in developing countries. He is the second learner in my just under 3 months at the school to pass away from the "sickness." People here often disclose the cause of death with the fear of being stigmatized by the rest of the community. This little one is remember, may he rest in peace.

Today we made 450+ red ribbons. We still need 300 more. I asked these girls if the school had done anything the year before, their answer: "Nyaa mma."

So this year I am determined to do something. I have so many ideas. Maybe my "Sad Mandy" play, drawing activities, bring in the home-based care groups to do a talk, lessons on myths on HIV/AIDS, a condom demos... the list goes on.

I'm so excited to do something for Worlds AIDS Day on December 1st here in South Africa a country that has fought for help on battling this disease back in the 1990s in its fight for affordable ARVs and access to services. I want to raise awareness to the children and make them realize the dangers and reality of this disease and that fortunately it is no longer a death sentence and we all need to provide support to the HIV/AIDS community and not stigmatize them and let them know their presence to us is valued too.

I recommend this article: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/22/health/unaids-says-new-worldwide-infections-have-hit-a-plateau.html

When you give a South African child a "jumpa"...

I didn't want to play today but sometimes the kids can be just too darn cute!

These kids will get you outside.

When you give a child a jump rope, they will ask you to watch. Once you watch they will then ask you for an "apole." When you tell them "Ga ke ne le apole," they will ask you for "disweeti." When you say, "ga ke ne la disweeti," they will use the "jumpa" till they are "lapile." And then they give up and say "danke Fifi!" And go on their merry lil way off into the African sunset.

Wise words on a Sunday (NOT from me)

Tutu, Desmond, and Douglas Abrams. God Has a Dream : A Vision of Hope for Our Time. 1st ed. New York: Doubleday, 2004.

Chapter: God loves you as you are.

"The West has paid a high price for its disdain for human frailty. I have seen a great deal of poverty and squalor in my time, having traveled to a few places on the globe. I have seen people, rags of humanity, scavenging on rubbish dumps in Calcutta. And yet I was never more shocked by poverty as when I saw someone searching for food in an overflowing dustbin in New York. Perhaps I was naive. But the spectacle staggered me more than anything I had seen elsewhere. The United States has the largest economy. It is the superpower par excellence, and somehow one did not expect this sort of thing in quite this way. Western capitalism has produced a great deal of wealth and prosperity but have we computed the cost?" (p. 37).

So today is Sunday and I didn't make it to church today but I'm finishing this book by Desmond Tutu that is due to the library this coming week. I was shocked by his above statement. In a country like his that holds such immensity of diversity of color and rags to riches, why wouldn't he have even considered that it wouldn't be the same in a country like the United States? The fact that I was able to always know that poverty of all types exists in different places all the over the world and in different contexts as well, makes me feel good. I don't think many people ever really learn this lesson EVER.

One thing we can all learn about from the South African's this what Desmond Tutu talks about in the beginning of his book, it is called UBUNTU. This concept of sharing with others and the ability to step away from thinking about yourself and validate someone else self worth and humanity.

Chapter: God's Dream

"A person with ubuntu is welcoming, hospitable, warm and generous, willing to share. Such people are open and available to others, willing to be vulnerable, affirming of others, do not feel threatened that others are able and good, for they have a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that they belong in a greater whole. They know that they are diminished when others are humiliated, diminished when others are oppressed, diminished when others are treated as if they were less than they are. The quality of ubuntu gives people resilience, enabling them to survive and emerge still human despite all efforts to dehumanize them" (p. 26).

Nelson Mandela once said:

"A traveller through a country would stop at a village and he didn't have to ask for food or for water. Once he stops, the people give him food, entertain him. That is one aspect of Ubuntu, but it will have various aspects. Ubuntu does not mean that people should not enrich themselves. The question therefore is: Are you going to do so in order to enable the community around you to be able to improve?"

Ubuntu is that my host family has offered to put me in their house and presented to my village like their own child. Why if there is no meat to serve with dinner we will have just BONES and pap, but serve the food with a smile and I thank them. Why they worry about me when I run alone - that is Ubuntu. Ubuntu has something slightly mystical and extremely African about it. It's a fabulous philosophy that we all part of one and owe it to each other to be kind to one another.

I will close out of this Sunday's post with my images from last Sunday's services. This little one was fascinated like I by this unique drum. Unfortunately he was the one, not I, who got the front row seat at investigating it's rhythms and sounds that it added to our morning songs. I'm starting to really enjoy going to church, if to only sing and meditate in my own thoughts of the moment.

A typical Friday afternoon :)

Jump rope with my best girlfriends my grade 5 girls. Porque no?

Ya a preparar por una mini-maraton y despues a la casa de una amiga mia para una barbacoa y un cumple :)

My 1st love letter in Africa

Haha here all my grade 4 learners hand over their "love letter" to me. It was so sweet and more or less a thank you for your presence sort of colorful letter :)

I've been teaching them English and Life Orientation.

Los pies de vaca!! COW FEET!

I remember one summer night going out for cuchifrito (the BEST Puerto Rican food) una noche in SpaHa (Spanish Harlem) with my fav Rican . We sat at the counter and waited for our food as this big Boriqua woman told us her tips for staying cool in her barrio during the hot New Yorican summer. One way was to sleep naked on her fire escape. Hmmm...to each his (or her) own.

Either way this man suddenly ran into the little shop and right up to the counter and said: "Dame una LENGUA!" (Translation: Get me 1 TONGUE right away!). This middle aged man was instantly served on a bare plate this long "Lengua" which he chopped up into several sections and munched up right away and then headed back out into the summer night.

I thought of that memory instantly as my host mom served to me on a plate just a huge pile of pap (just like really thick cream of wheat) and 2 COW FEET, or hoof if you will in the TV room tonight (where we always eat dinner). The outside of the foot reminded me of elephant skin, grey and it looked thick. All my mind could think of was how gelatin used to come from horses hooves, or didn't it?

I took my fork and slivered off a 10 cm x 10 cm piece and then brought the fork to my mouth. The piece of foot slipped off my fork back onto my plate and just gave a little jiggle. Oy! I picked it up again and just stuffed it in my mouth and closed my eyes as if that one action would turn off all my senses, especially that of taste. It didn't work.

Bottom line: try new foods, I just wouldn't recommend a cow foot.

Born to move! And sometimes NOT listen (oops) but always safe!

So I’m just back from the police station and fuming. I didn’t really think much of all the comments of the teachers today in the staff room about my running, since they always gossip about how I work out (I run probably 5 times a week, maybe 6 times at most for 40 minutes at most). Like they’ve never seen someone who wanted to stay fit or who lives for the feeling of being out alone in nature with the wind blowing through her hair…free…free from the noise and sounds of everyday life. No of course they haven’t since they’re not from the culture I’m from. Us American in our mid to late 20s who enjoy going to the gym every day and enjoy our athleticism our body offers.

I remember when I started going to the gym almost every day when I was younger, my mom used to think I was crazy, and I’d bark back at her, “well I see the same people in the gym every day too they must ALL be crazy too!” That’s what today felt like, an attack.

If you know me well, you know that I used to spend my life locked up in my gymnastics gym as a young girl, and for some reason ever since I left that sport (where 8-hour workouts were not out of the norm), I’ve never been able to shake out the intense athlete in me that was created all those years ago in the gym. The thrill of my body flying through the air weightless, twisting and turn… and then WAAam! Head up, chin up, big smile, both arms pushed up behind my head, feet and legs glued together – Finish!

I live for that rush of making your mind and body flow as one. All this flashed before my eyes while the teacher’s bickers buzzed in my ears.

Meanwhile all the teachers just continued this morning to throw out every rape case they had heard of even ( though NONE of them included a lone young ADULT woman being raped while out on a run), all of them were about young, like really young girls. At the same time thinking of all the late night runs I used to make by myself around Central Park, the Charles River waterfront, or any real sketchy places and my well-above average 6^th sense to watch for people around me and even from behind.

Then the Principal even pulled me into his office saying that he had NO idea I was running each day and that he had this great idea that he was going to make a track team and make me the coach (as to make up for the fact that I “should” no longer run). That was really nice! I would love to do that, I said. This is a fabulous idea I thought, but I really HATE HATE HATE running with other people. I don’t like to talk to anyone, I like to just be, and go. But nonetheless this gives me a lot of idea to really work with the kids more and incorporate life skills and health education into something like this.

So I went home cooled down. Water off a ducks back…then my host mother approaches me as soon as I get home and says that we’re going to head over to the police station soon and to get ready. I jumped into the car with my host brother and mom and we all drove off to the police station. We arrived at the police station and I went in with my host mother while Bokamoso remained in the car. I got introduced to all the police staff who were on duty, very fine, very nice. And then I begin to hear it again. My Setswana isn’t the best but I hear “taboga” this and “taboga” that coming out of my host mother’s mouth and police chief nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Taboga” is the Setswana verb “to run.” Omigod, are you kidding me, I thought. I was then preached on the do and don’t, mainly DON’T RUN it’s not safe. PS- I have never felt safer running.

I took a deep breath and breathed out….woooweee! I was boiling….excuse me, still boiling with anger. As if all the comments from people that I was never going to have children because running too much makes you infertile. I’ve been told these by a number of people. There was some soap star or something who had even “DANCED too much” and when she tried to have kids, she couldn’t conceive. So if I’m running I will for sure NOT be able to have children. My reply to that is usually, “that’s ridiculous” (thinking of my Nutrition 101 teacher, who made a point of telling us about the benefit of physical exercise to help the health of your child, even while pregnant, she herself who had climbed her Stair Master up to just days before she delivered). My other reply is: “well fabulous, that way I’ll assure that I don’t go home early since if you become preg-o while in Peace Corps, you get a free ticket right back home OR to DC to ‘choose’ termination of that pregnancy.” And clearly I wouldn’t want either of those two things to happen. That’s why I’ve got my chastity belt strapped right on now.

Anyways, the sun is finally becoming bearable to run and today I’m going to make sure my running partner goes with me (maybe she’s not picking up her phone). Her name is Ethel and she’s great! Did I cave to all their reasons as to why I should not run, NO! Catch me if you can, but I’ll at least not be alone (I hope –Ethel pick up)!

Sad Mandy (or my version from the Grade 4 English book)

Sad Mandy

Character list:

Mrs. Ndongana

Mr. Mofolo,

Mandy Thola

Thola’s mother

Thola’s dog

Mrs. Rametse

Act 1, Scene 1
Characters: Mrs. Ndongana, Mr. Mofolo, Mandy, Thola
Setting: It’s a Monday, the beginning of a new school week at a South African primary school, a pretty 10-year old girl with sad eyes walks up to an English class with the school principal.

Mrs. Ndongana: Knock, Knock! Mr. Mofolo, can we come in?
Thola (struggling to read and standing up): “One day a bear met a fox who came slinking along…” (Fade out voice and sits down)
Mr. Mofolo: Please, please do come in Principal Ndongana.
Mrs. Ndongana: Good morning class! I have a new student to introduce to you all. This is Mandy, class. She is from Polokwane, but she will be part of this class now.
(Mandy looks scared)
Mr. Mofolo: Welcome to the class Mandy! Please sit right in front of this young gentleman, Thola.
Mrs. Ndongana: Thank you Mr. Mofolo! Please continue with your class. (She exits)
Mr. Mofolo: Thola, please continue where you left off in the text.
Thola (Stands up): “One day a bear met a fox who came slinking along…”
(School bells rings)
Mr. Mofolo: Saved by the bell, Thola! Have a good afternoon students!

(Everyone exits from the scene)

Act 1, Scene 2
Characters: Thola’s mother, Thola, Thola’s dog
Setting: It’s a Monday afternoon. School has let out and we are now at Thola’s house, where his mom has 22 chickens, which lay eggs every day.

Thola (enters from the front door): Hi mom!
Thola’s Mother: Hello sweetheart - how was school today?
Thola: School was just okay, but my class got a new girl added today.
Thola’s Mother: Oh really?
Thola: Her name is Mandy.
Thola’s Mother (reaches for basket of eggs and hands it to her son): Well, can you take these 6 eggs to Mrs. Rametse? She tells me that her granddaughter from Polokwane is staying with her now. Her mom and dad have both died, poor girl, and she has nobody else to take care of her.

(Everyone exits from the scene)

Act 1, Scene 3
Characters: Thola, Thola’s dog, Mandy, Mrs. Rametse
Setting: Thola has his basket filled with eggs and heads to Mrs. Rametse’s home with his dog.

Thola: Knock, knock! Is anyone home?
Mandy (shyly she opens the front door): Hello. Can I help you?
Thola (almost dropping his basket of eggs): Yes. I am looking for Mrs. Rametse. I have 6 eggs for her from my mother.
Mandy (she takes the basket of eggs): One moment please. Granny! Granny! Someone is here with eggs and their dog!
Mrs. Rametse (gives Thola the money): Oh hello Thola! Here’s your mother’s money. Thank you for delivering these!
Thola: You’re welcome! I didn’t know that Mandy was living here with you.
Mrs. Rametse: Yes, this young one is my granddaughter.
Thola: Oh well then tomorrow I will come and walk with her to school.
Mandy (smiles): Thank you. That would be nice of you.

(Everyone exits from the scene)

Act 1, Scene 4
Characters: Thola, Mandy
Scene: It’s morning and Thola has come like usual to pick up Mandy and walk with her to school.

Thola: So tell me, Mandy. What happened to your mom and dad?
Mandy: My mom and dad had AIDS. They used to be healthy and my dad even had a small tuck shop where he sold fruit and vegetables. It was only in the last few years that my parents became so sick. They became thinner and thinner. Last year they told me that they would die soon. My mom died first this year, and then my dad died. I miss them very much.
Thola (looks shocked and sad): Wow. I’m very sorry for your loss, Mandy. Thank you for sharing with me. I can’t imagine what life would be like without my mother.

(Everyone exits from the scene)

The End.

ZAHARA....to this I sing.

Every morning without fail, the music begins to blast from my host brother's room at 6 AM. Usually it's gospel music (Sunday's are like a church rival here), house, old school 90's American hip hop (Tupac since that's what they love here - West Siiiide!), Akon, Neyo, Chris Brown, Beyonce or Rihanna. So when Bokamoso, started to play this woman my ears sparked up to Zahara. She has a beautiful voice with very soothing rhythms.

South Africa has 11 official languages, of which most people speak at least two. Most South Africans speak their "home language" and English. Home Language is whatever language was spoken in their homes when they were growing up. Often it will be the case that they have two home languages if they have parents from two different regions of the country, like say Eastern Cape where they speak Xhosa (when you see "X" it calls for a click of the tongue) and then Northern Cape where they speak mainly Afrikaans and Setswana (or simply "Tswana" which comes down from Botswana).

The Tswana and Xhosa mixture is what my host family is here. My host father, Papa Mokwena ("kwena" means "crocodile" in English, so we are people of the crocodile here), came down like many Botswana people to South Africa to find work in the mines. Papa Mokwena can speak fluently 3 languages: English, Afrikaans, and Tswana. My host mother's family comes from Eastern Cape and some people of her side of the family still speak Xhosa.

The diversity of language here is truly incredible. Zahara sings in Xhosa and English. Listen to one of her non-English songs and maybe you can hear the light but hard sounding clicks of her tongue. She has a radiant voice, enjoy!

This one really reminds me of Adele: LOLIWE


This one I love to dance to: LENGOMA

...and is very typical South African music, they are into the house music here.

This one make me want to feel sad and think of Tracy Chapman:


And this song I can truly sing along to: DESTINY

My village library

I was here yesterday and filled out all the paper work of promising my 1st child to the lead librarian etc. but managed to leave with 3 books:

• God Has a Dream: Vision of hope for our time - Desmond Tutu (you gotta read that Tutu while you are living in South Africa)
• Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus - John Gray (I have been dying to read this ever since I saw Clueless when I was a pre-teen in 1995, if you can remember that scene where Cher brings Ty home for a makeover and tells her that they are going to work on improving their vocabulary and add 1 new non-school book a week to their reading...this is one of those books!)
• Human Development - Grace J. Craig (from UMass oddly of all places going over brain development and behavior and language - all that good scientific stuff, but I think this could have me entertained for weeks! And I swear my PHD psych buddy has this book haha but of course my copy is waaaaay old)

I was not only impressed by whoever the gardener is of this library because it's so well kept (I wasn't able to get a picture of the incredible bright magenta flowers in the front of the building) but once I stepped inside I was blown away by how it looked inside. There were books on the shelves, they had some Duey Decimal System or whatever that library system is called (sorry Mom and yes i have no idea how things are organized in your place of work) stickers placed on the spine on each book. Their non-fiction section was filled with history books from Europe, Asia, and Africa. Biographies of Martin Luther King and Ghandi. That copy of Eat Pray Love I've been meaning to read for the last few years. They also had a play area and all school text books for the kids to come and use.

Either way it was great to make this discovery and see how incredible this resource could be to the community if they only used it.

How does your gender affect your life?

So I recently started a project in my English class on how to document our lives through an autobiography. Here are some of the answers that I loved that came from my Grade 5 girls on how does your gender affect your life?

"Sometime boy are DOM."

"Because I grow up and I learn everythings."

"By completeing my studies so that I can have a bright future."

"Everything was hectic and different. My body have been developed and been challenged in life."

"When boys are playing I must do laundry."

All of these things are all so true and the way some of them stated this was right on point to how real like is here in rural South Africa as a 10-year old girl.

More later! When I sat down with some of these kids and allowed them to be in a safe place and to let the stories roll out, they did just that. It felt like group therapy - this could be a new calling!