Observations

We live in Pretoria Central. Under apartheid this was a white city surrounded by various townships or “locations” where Black, Coloured and Indian people lived in their own designated communities. Since the official end of apartheid fifteen years ago there have been many changes, probably the most visible being the shift in demographics. Pretoria Central is now roughly 85% black. Indian and East Asians own many shops in the area, but rarely live here. Most whites who live here are junkies and homeless people. You’ll see white government and business people walking around, but I doubt many of them live in town. This means that Robin, myself and the other volunteers largely stick out like palm trees in the snow. Before we got here I once wondered out loud to Robin if many of the staff at TLF would be black. I believe the staff is something like 72 black to 24 white and 74 women to 22 men. More on why TLF is awesome to come.

Race still matters. Things are getting better, but of course there is still a ways to go. We citizens of the U.S. shouldn’t be surprised since we are still battling the long lasting effects of slavery and institutional racism. Some of my more realistic coworkers use the diversity at TLF for their advantage. More than once I’ve been asked to make a phone call or accompany someone to a meeting because my presence as a white person might shift the power dynamic in our direction (and sadly, it works). I don’t like how this works, but I don’t know what to do about it. I’m thinking through how my power as a white person might be used to give power to others, rather than perpetuate the system. Let me know if you have any ideas.

There is always music. There’s one flat between my home and work I can usually count on providing me with my daily dose of Bob Marley. Our flat is transformed into a club several nights a week. Sometimes there are guests to enjoy it, and sometimes its just Stephens lounging in his room blaring Seal, Boyz II Men, Mozart or Celine Dionne. On the rare occasions there isn’t a speaker providing the back drop, someone is bound to be singing, humming or whistling their own melody. And wherever people get together there is more singing in Zulu, English, Tswana, Afrikaans and other languages I have yet to be able to distinguish. I would like to dispel one common myth about “Africa” (which according to some of my friends is not where we are). Not everyone sings well. And its not so uncommon for singing to be off key. Sometimes one person will lead off and then the keyboard will join in with a different key and then half the people follow the leader and half follow the keyboard until everyone eventually gives up and starts over. Africans are not musically infallible.

Eleven official languages. And that’s not counting the languages brought in by various refugees and immigrants. And its not counting German, which is the most common language spoken among the volunteers at Museum Park. Sometimes I’ll ask people what language they’re speaking and invariably the answer will be something like “Sotho and Tswana” or “Zulu and Xhosa.” I’m trying to learn Zulu, but sometimes my tutors aren’t sure which word is Zulu and which work is Xhosa. At least the languages come in families. So once you’ve mastered one, you’ve got a good chance of understanding a couple more.

There are currently fifteen international volunteers working at TLF. One is from Colombia (her husband has a paying gig with TLF), two are from the U.S. (That’s Robin and me) and the rest are German. I’m trying to break the habit of referring to them as “Ze Germans” (think Snatch). Germany has an interesting relationship with South Africa. They pay for students to come here and volunteer for six months or a year. Everyone here is shocked that the U.S. isn’t paying for us to do this. Most people assume Robin and I are German, if they’ve already figured out that we’re not Afrikaans. And people do try to speak Afrikaans and German to us. Stupid Americans. You only speak one language? I’ve met one other American so far. He’s from the Bakke Graduate Institute in Seattle. In two minutes both Robin and I discovered different mutual friends with him. We told our South African friends that’s just how small the U.S. is. We can find mutual friends with any American we meet. I think I heard an American talking in a workshop. I didn’t figure out till she was already gone why she sounded so funny. Our American accents are so exotic.

And finally, a few notes for those whose knowledge of Africa has come largely from National Geographic:
• Most of my younger black African friends either have a college education or are in the process of getting one.
• I’ve seen no big bugs yet.
• I don’t live in the jungle.
• I am not at risk for malaria