discharge.

WARNING:  This one’s a bit dark.  Just bear with my discharge of negativity.

“It is the realization that the most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.” - Steve Biko

The powerful keep their power by making the powerless feel like they’re crazy for wanting the power they deserve.  Any time I’m made to feel like I’m crazy for seeing injustice and speaking out against it, I remind myself that people actually thought it was okay to take away a person’s (a CHILD’s) freedom - human rights violations all across the board - simply because of a physical trait designed for sun adaptation.  And that’s how the powerful kept their power, by psychologically torturing the powerless. 

I stood in front of a mock solitary confinement room at the Apartheid Museum.  They’d put a bucket in there for human waste and empty it once a week.  

There were like 8 showers for 2,000 people in the prison we toured.  The bathrooms were right next to where the prisoners ate, no cover provided.  

Human dignity didn’t exist.  

How can you not hate your body when you’re ridiculed for it’s functions?  When you’re forced to sit in its waste, which  makes you ill?  How can you not kill yourself?  

Most of the time they’d do the deed for you, covering it up like you did it yourself. 

How do these people who did these things live with themselves every day?  They’re likely not there, not really living, not really present in the moment to let the destruction of what they did overwhelm their being.  I’d be interested to see how they numb themselves every day and if it’s predictable.

I just kept walking through these museums, one foot in front of the other.  I’d find myself unable to ignore the intensity of the fear I felt in my chest, radiating through my body like a scream stuck in my throat.  Now, I feel a bit numb.

Sometimes I have these moments where I think if anyone is watching the world from above, seeing all these little human beings interacting with one another, this world bird would be filled with despair at the ways in which humans kill one another over such meaningless difference, all based in fear.  I mean, really, I keep having this thought that it really is that simple.  People are afraid of things they don’t understand, they’re afraid a certain person or group of people is going to violate them in some way, take away their human rights, their privilege, etc., so they rob them of their rights first.  Kill or be killed.  

WHY CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

I know, it’s all so much more complex.  But when I’m filled up with despair like a glass that’s half empty and the frustration is brimming and I’m so sad and afraid this is what I go back to.  

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

May the survivors of these museum honors find solace that there are those of us that recognize their agony.  May you find peace in your own way, in your own time.

It’s that damn black hole again.

And I’m grabbing at a hand outstretched above me, not sure who’s it is, but does it matter?  Because we’re all equal, and above all, we all have the capacity to love.

ubuntu.  

We are who we are because we are. 

Okay, on a lighter note: I’m up early in the morning to finally head to see those fabulous animals.  Nothing like a safari to ground me in environmental existence and remember the world’s natural beauty.  

Now for me.

Okay, so I'm in the midst of my JoBurg experiences.  But here's the itinerary for the past/next few days to keep you all up to date with what I'm doing.  More info to come when I get back to Cape Town.

It's been an emotional few days, but inspirational and thought provoking in so many ways. I feel myself just dumbfounded by the amount I'm learning here that directly relates to my community organizing studies/work.

So what's next for me?

I do not know.  But here's now for me:

Thursday March 17

Visit Sharpeville Memorial

Lunch at Nom’s Kitchen in Sharpville

Dinner at Trump’s Grill House in Nelson Mandela Square

Friday March 18

Visit Chris Hani Bharagwana Hospital, Peri-Natal HIV Unit

Dinner at University of Johannesburg with Director of Internationalization

Saturday March 19

Tour of Johannesburg Prison and the Constitutional Court

Lunch at the Gold Reef City Casino

Apartheid Museum

Dinner at the Balalaika Hotel in Sandton

Sunday March 20

Tour of Hector Pieterson Museum

Visit Nelson Mandela Family Home

Lunch at Wandies in Soweto

Visit Rosebank Flea Market

Monday March 21

Arrive at Kruger National Park (SAFARI!)

Leave for evening game drive

Tuesday March 22

Morning game drive at Kruger

Evening game walk

gone exploring.

We leave for Johannesburg in the am.  I'd love to post an itinerary, but alas I do not have such a thing.  I'll find out tomorrow more.

So I'll be documenting and processing this week long vacation within a vacation as we traverse different museums and do fun exciting things in what's been called the New York City of South Africa (I don't know how true this is, but someone said it).  BUT, it's likely the blogging won't happen until my return so you all will just be bombarded with overdue copy and pasted posts.

We're going on safari the beginning of next week and I'm just all too excited to see those crazy wild animals that are much more stereotypical of Africa.  I want to pet one.  Okay, maybe I'll settle for just looking into its eyes from afar, praying it won't eat me.  Giraffes don't eat humans anyway - can you imagine?  A human being all lumpy in the neck of a giraffe like the cartoons we used to watch as kids when ducks swallowed animals too big to go down?  You can bet if I was stuck in the neck of a giraffe I'd be sticking my arms out in protest, maybe even a visible peace sign.  Ha.

You can tell it's late and I've done too much thinking for one day.  I'll be gone for a week but they'll be a bunch to read when I return.

Gone exploring.

Dunes.

Just to prove that I'm really here, not copying and pasting random Cape Town photos from Flikr and claiming to be abroad in South Africa.  I'm here, and existing where the mountains and the sea come together.

Explored Gordon's Bay today, on the way home from attending a braai in Betty's Bay.  Drove on officially the most beautiful road I've ever felt beneath my tires, coasting the coastline.

It's days like this where I wonder if there's a more beautiful place in the world.  And yet I know there is, differently beautiful countries and oceans and all.

I cannot help but think about the meaning behind it all, the symbols of ocean meeting mountain, waves crashing and building, eroding, shifting something beautiful.  And yet the mountain stands firm, only slightly shifted by the gentle, sometimes fierce, touches of the sea.  Like tickles to feet.

There were dunes, mountains of dunes.  Over time, the land took care of the dunes to establish them as mountain-like features of a landscape so dreamy.  Took me a minute to realize they were made of sand, not rock, hidden under bushes.  What would they feel like to walk on?  Would they mold with my feet, shift under my weight?   A mountain of sand shifts little with two footsteps.  A mountain of rock holds me on its shoulders.

Reconnecting to the earth, it's a start.  Thank you synapses, for firing today.

ummm, title anyone???????

So here I am, days passing.  The moon rises each night, clockwork.

Kathy and Scott are here, providing much insight and reconnection to the world of the UCONN SSW.  Oh how I miss my academic family!  So many emotions - one of sadness knowing my time is just about complete.

The question mark haunts my days and evenings.  I try to hug it, pull it close but yet my soul's in a boxing ring, trying to push the question mark hugger down while the question mark pusher reigns high.  Embracing uncertainty can be extraordinary and useful for eternity.  Yet for me, it's one of the most challenging feats.

My work here has expanded as I dig deeper into work with SJC and the semester back home progresses.  These past few weeks have been a struggle to remain focused and productive.  At one point it felt a challenge to form cohesive thoughts.  I felt badly for anyone trying to converse with me, shallow pool.   And when times of dis-focus envelope me, there's always something hidden below the shallowness that blocks me from the deep end.  And behold, there it was, the nature of my avoidance.

Two lessons have ridden with me these past few weeks:
1.  Life is full of more choices, more visions, than I could have ever imagined.
2.  The way I am is just fine.  The way I nurture myself, the things I like, the things that overwhelm me - it's all good.  I'm not crazy, and I don't need to change anything but instead need to give myself more HUGS!

I knew personal growth would happen here, no matter what South Africa brought me.  But there is no prediction.  Continued surprises and revelations.

Tomorrow I finally step by step incline Table Mountain, the image of Mother Earth that has become a permanent vision in my mind.  I need the nurturance mom, see you tomorrow when I stand on your shoulders.

f*ck you black hole!

Read me.  Play close attention to the city health unit's response.

Recognition of yet another privilege - in the US, there are times I choose to "hold it" when I don't feel there's a clean enough bathroom for me to use, not because I'll die.  Think mainly porta-potties at concerts at the Dodge music theatre in Hartford.

Here, kids 1) have no choice but to use some of the nastiest porta-potties I've ever seen, and 2) it's not a matter of just being grossed out about the condition of the toilets - it's a matter of life and death.

The city health unit blames people for not properly washing their hands and maintaining clean households. How do you keep a "clean" household when the tap you get water in is surrounded by stagnant water that won't drain full of bacteria is forever far away and everything you touch is contaminated by people's poop because the town doesn't maintain toilets and they naturally clog and rats make homes in the land near your house and people rape you when you just need to pee in the middle of the night....

One of the guys I work with here at SJC explained that sometimes the problem feels like a "black hole". And yet this past weekend at our Human Rights training we discussed the importance of healing together in "human rights communities", sharing the pain and discouragement, and celebrating the small victories.

I turn my head to the potential, and the passion community members feel here to participate in the movement for safe places to drink, wash, and relieve themselves.  If we don't believe it can improve, the black hole will suck us in and conquer.  The city health units of the world will win in their racist evaluations of how "those people" in those informal settlements live.

still here.

Just wanted to send out a quick post.  I'm still here.  Still learning, still seeing, still feeling.

And in the end, it's all so so good.

More will come, as the busy-ness settles.  I typed business but then realized that's not what I meant.  Maybe it was, as busy-ness can but business.  Maybe that's why they call it business, because it's usually busy?

Quick ramblings.

I feel each and every one of you with me, even if we have not been in touch over these past few months.  Know there are moments when all of you who read this, yes, you, come into my mind as I see, hear, smell, and feel the feelings of world distances.  Sending hellos and hugs into the universe like messages in a bottle.  Did you feel it?