...The Lay of the Land...

…On Tuesday we hiked the waterfall behind the village where we are conducting our research. Downstream of the waterfall is the source where the village gets its water. The little valley it created was lush with vegetation. At the top, we could see for miles/kilometers. Our guide was Styles. He is the head student coordinator for our project and already a good friend. He and two other students, Ellie and Kwathiso, are our main translators and a crucial part of the work. They are also working on a volunteer basis and easily spend 30+ hours a week with us.
Since the cameras have been returned we have been able to develop them and conduct our first interviews with our participants. We mostly ask about how they felt as they were taking pictures, which are their favorites, and why. The prompt they were given when they received the cameras was to take pictures of things that related to health. Already, some of our participants have had some very profound things to say. At night, after 4-10 interviews a day, we go home and sit with our translators as they interpret the 15-30 minute conversations in Tshivenda, the language of the region, into English as Ashleigh and I type everything that was said. It is not an easy job but with the help of copious amounts of Cadbury chocolate and unique flavored chips (such as smoked beef, and Thai sweet chili) we mange to complete the work. Sometimes it takes place by candlelight because the power goes off on a daily basis around dinner time. Eventually the batteries on the computer die and we take everyone home.
We have made many new friends among the other students from UVa here working in the same villages. They come from the medical, engineering, media schools as well as some other universities. We see one another 2-3 times a week and share our experiences as Mukhua (white people) in an unfamiliar place. One such experience was a trip to locate a participant that was reportedly a short ride away but turned out to be about 4 miles of driving, and roughly 2000’ feet of elevation change over a cloud enveloped mountain to a house perched on a cliff face. In my paranoia, I envisioned we were being led into a trap where we were going to get robbed by some masked bandits hiding out in the mountains. Fortunately, this was not the case. Needless to say I tried hard to make friends with our guides in the back seat hoping I would get the “nice guy” treatment when they left me broke. Then I would have to walk back and explain to Ashleigh how I ruined the project, and deal with her wrath. Instead, when we got there, our participant seemed more annoyed than anything else and also spoke a dialect throughout the interview we couldn’t understand very well. Elly, my already-sick translator, had only a t-shirt and the temperature had dropped 15 degrees since we got in the car 20 minutes prior. I gave him my jacket and he wore it for three days.
Basically this cycle has been repeated day after day for a while since beginning our interviews. Today will be more of the same. By Friday, we are going to have a presentation on what we have accomplished thus far. I don’t think the experience will really fit in a powerpoint but I suppose we will try….

First light in the village Tshapasha

....After a 6 hour drive north from Johannesburg we arrived in Thohoyandou. Home of the University of Venda, the partner school to UVa. On the drive I saw what looked lions out in the distance, but might have been termite mounds. We took a route that led us across the tropic of Capricorn and over a pass into a valley that was less arid than where we started the trip. On the north side of the pass we saw about 25 Vervet monkeys with intelligent black faces and grey bodies feasting on what might have been the left-overs of one of the many roadside fruit stands along the way. On a smaller road coming into town, we saw more of what has been described in guidebooks as the “real Africa”, which I guess means rural and with limited resources. Goats in the road, red dirt, heavy pedestrian traffic, and the beauty of the people and surrounding area conjured up images of National Geographic photos. Upon arrival we met our project coordinator and were taken to a guest house of the university. Situated on a mountaintop in an area called Sibasa, we overlook the neighboring valley to the east. Now mornings start with the warm glow of the sunrise in my bedroom window.

It will never be possible to fully recount my experiences in this place. Perhaps the most difficult to relate will be in regards to the people we work with and the interactions we have. I’ll try anyway. Today we met the participants in our project in Tshapasha, the village where we will be conducting our work. The first was an elderly patriarch who was also an artisan. He began by showing us the carved wooden walking canes he had been working on, one of which he used. He was rightfully proud of these as well as some musical instruments he made. He showed us around his property, a one-room house containing three generations of his family, an interesting stone seating area, and a small shop. After about 10 minutes had passed, so that we would never forget him, he gave us two small whistles made from the dried fruit of an Aramba tree. First he played us a melody to show us how good we might eventually be. We thanked him, and as we left we tried to squeeze some notes out with partial success and much laughter. The generosity of this individual combined with a lot of exhaling through the whistles invoked a surreal and euphoric feeling as we walked back to the tree at the foot of the hill that served as the community gathering place.
Our assignment this day was to collect the cameras that had been dispensed and set up interviews with each of the 32 participants in our study. It was a tall order but with 6 people we tracked them all down and managed to complete the work in a very relaxed fashion. We were treated to a ceremonial dance at the end of the day by a group that was practicing nearby. On the way home we listened to a station that played American hit songs from the last 4 decades. Though the passengers in our car were from opposite sides of the world, we all found ourselves singing along to the reggae version of “Have you ever seen the Rain” by CCR. My spine tingled and produced a tear....

Yesterday, and days before,

sun is cold and rain is hard.

I know, been that way for all my time.'

Til forever on it goes

through the circle fast and slow,

I know, and it can't stop, I wonder.
I want to know,

have you ever seen the rain?

I want to know,

have you ever seen the rain

comin' down on a sunny day?- John C. Fogerty

A garden, a sandwich, a story...

...I awoke today to a horn beeping in the drive. I went outside to find our rental car being delivered. We had wheels and a plan. After a coffee and fruit breakfast, we set off for the Botanical gardens. The ride was wonderfully uneventful. Once there, we went for a nice walk and learned some of the local flora. In this arid climate succulents and other water conserving plants seem to flourish. Some of them looked quite bizarre resembling illustrations in a Dr. Seuss book.
Our path meandered through well manicured formal gardens, waterfronts, and open playing fields complete with amateur rugby players and bike riders. We left for the apartheid museum, but never made it. On the way we stopped for lunch and found a lovely cafe in a neighborhood where we were already familiar. That's when it happened, our waiter mistakenly brought me a sandwich that was not what I ordered but perhaps the closest thing to divine intervention I had ever experienced. Ingredients: smoked salmon, ripe avocado, goat cheese, tomato, onion, lettuce, and two kinds of caviar on ciabatta bread, all for the price of a sandwich at Subway. Not sure if words can describe, the ones I know don't suffice.

The moral of the story is that the deprivation I expected to endure in South Africa has been replaced by a feeling of extreme privilege. Though I am not a wealthy individual in the States, by default or perhaps the color of my skin I am in a higher socio-economic class here. Interactions with the individuals on the other side of this disparity are often fleeting and involve exchanges of small amounts of money such as 5 dollars for oranges and avocados sold through the car window at a busy intersection. The same interactions happen in restrooms where cleanliness is maintained by semi-official janitors, and parking lots where cars are overseen by security guards with jovial attitudes who expect a dollar or so for payment. It seems this is an understood part of how society tries to provide for the people from the impoverished areas of Johannesburg. After conversing with our friend who has lived here a year, it is clear the the wounds of apartheid have not healed and the disparities that exist probably wont resolve for quite some time. After our experiences today, Ashleigh and I determined it was our responsibility to provide something towards the livelihood of the less fortunate. The relative affluence that accompanies us now is an awkward position for two nursing students accustomed to scrounging for rent money and memorizing the best beer specials in Charlottesville ....

Upon arrival...

We made it! The fourteen hour flight was only somewhat exhausting but was made better by some extra space we used to sleep. Still when we arrived we were jet lagged and anxious about our new surroundings. We managed to get a taxi into downtown Johannesburg. We went to a place called Mandela Square with a giant sculpture of Nelson himself surrounded by a trendy mall and cafes of various sorts. Most people were well dressed and spoke with various accents. Those who we have interacted with here are very nice and helpful. Ashley and I took it all in over tea and lunch. We found a library and rested there until Ashley's friend was able to pick us up after work as a teacher in what equates to a magnet school for for high schoolers from all of Africa.
Driving around is a hair-raising experience partly because I constantly feel like I am on the wrong side of the road and partly because nobody gives a s@#% about the rules and sometimes they actually are on the wrong side of the road. The house where we are now is quite nice and not at all what I expected. It is a thatched roof cottage with three bedrooms and decorated like a South African art museum.
Tomorrow we are going to the botanical gardens and then the Apartheid Museum. We have made a full recovery and our trip north to start our project begins Saturday. We have been warned many times to stay together, not go out at night, and maintain a low profile. Fortunately these are easy tasks and where we are going is much safer than where we are leaving. In it's defense Johannesburg is a beautiful city with lovely people. Apartheid's political ending fifteen years ago has not exactly wiped the slate clean for racial relations and social justice. Tomorrow, our immersion continues...