A bit of African culture

This weekend was fun. It was a long weekend too, which was nice. The whole weekend wasn't ayoba though, and I'm warning you now that I'm going to get into some pretty offensive stuff in this post.

Just in case you missed that...

****THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO OFFEND YOU! STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAVE DELICATE SENSIBILITIES!****

The weekend didn't start out so nice, though, since Saturday morning Vivian and I went to a funeral. Theo's uncle died, and unlike most places around here, the college didn't really tell anyone or make any kind of plans to attend services. Apparently in many workplaces, the company will arrange transport for staff to go to anybody's funeral who's remotely related to the company. Also, I've been told it reflects poorly on family members who are employed if nobody from their work shows up. Plus, I like Theo, she's nice, and I figured she wouldn't mind the extra company. So, Vivian and I went to the funeral. The burial itself was too early in the morning for us to find transport for, but we showed up at the house afterwards to just greet the family and give our condolences. There were a ton of people there, and also a ton of food. Vivian and I didn't eat much and we didn't stay long. We waited until Theo showed up with the rest of the family and we greeted her and met her aunt and some of her cousins, said our condolences, spent a bit of time chatting with Theo, and left. One thing that they do here that I was surprised by is collect money. Family/friends who show up are expected to contribute something to the deceased, presumably to help pay for the funeral and what-have-you, and some unlucky family member has to spend the funeral gathering money and writing down who gave what in a ledger. I guess it makes sense, but it's just something I'd never seen before. The only thing that bothered me about the whole funeral was how the people who didn't know me acted around me. Specifically, the drunk guy (drunk before noon) hitting on me (a complete stranger), at a flippin' funeral, who had to be told by a family member of the deceased that he was acting like an ass before he left me the fuck alone.

As usual, whenever I go anywhere outside the college, I'm the only white person, and people stare at me. I've gotten used to it at this point. I don't really mind it when the little kids do it, because they don't really know any better, but when adults don't even try to be discreet about it, I get kind of annoyed. The other thing I've gotten used to is black guys hitting on me. It seems every black guy here wants to score a white chick and because I'm actually showing up someplace that's predominantly black instead of hiding myself away in a fenced and guarded community, it must mean that's automatically what I'm looking for. And of course, these guys don't take "no" for an answer the first time. Or the second. Or the third. Or even the fourth or fifth sometimes. I can't politely decline, I can't decline and tell them I have a boyfriend, I can't even just ignore them. No. I have to be rude and tell them to piss off and then glare at them, or physically get up and walk away for them to get the hint. I've even slapped a guy's arm away when he tried to reach out and touch me. This is going to make me sound like a racist, but I completely understand why 90% of the white population is afraid of, or at the very least, uncomfortable with, 90% of the black population here. If this is how you treat someone whose skin is a different color, like some kind of commodity and/or a freak-show, you can't very well blame them for disliking you. And this was not an isolated incident. Any time I've gone somewhere, even just to the super-market, I get stares and comments and whistles and cat-calls. Even in the places I go where there are mixed races, the black guys are the ones being rude to me. It doesn't help matters that even in the middle of the day, half the black guys I encounter on the street or wherever are drunk or well on their way.

Now, clearly not all black people are like this. And also, clearly, there are white people and Asians and Indians and Latinos and whoever-elses who also behave badly. I also realize that there are a number of historical and socio-economic factors that contribute to a culture of people who find it acceptable to behave in such a manner. But, shit, man, just stop. If you want white people to stop treating you like dogs, stop freaking acting like them.

I know that I sound like a racist right now. And I really don't care. Because I know I'm not a racist. I don't judge people by their skin color. But when the vast majority of people who do things to piss me off happen to be of the same skin color, it's hard not to notice.

Now, clearly this is not the entirety of the black population down here, nor anywhere in the world for that matter, but when the vast majority of my experiences involving black people that I don't personally know have been negative in this country, I completely understand why racism still exists. I completely understand why most white people wouldn't go to a black person's funeral, or to a super-market where mostly black people shop, or out to a black-dominated bar or restaurant or wherever, or live in a black neighborhood.

What's actually rather funny is that I've made these types of observations to some of my friends here, who are also black, and they completely agree with me! They're just as annoyed at this type of behavior as I am. And they haven't failed to notice that there seems to be a trend. Shit, even my boyfriend tells me that most black African men are dogs, and he is a black African man! The difference, though, is that he treats me like a human being, not a status symbol. Not a freak. Not an object. I'm not a trophy or a toy to him. I'm a person. I've got a brain and feelings and desires and dreams. And when a woman is clearly not interested in him, he knows enough to respect her wishes. Is it any coincidence that he's also educated? That he's got ambitions in life? That he's got better things to do with his time and money than to get drunk and hit on women who clearly want nothing to do with him? I think not.

Imagine that; the person who treats me like a real person and doesn't try to force himself on me is the one who actually gets my attention. What a concept!

Anyway, enough about evil black people for now. Here's the rest of my weekend.

After the funeral, I went to the store with Vivian to pick up a few things, where there were also ill-mannered black folk, but I'm not talking about that right now. After that, we came home, and since we'd both gotten up at 6 AM on a Saturday, we decided a nap was in order. When I woke up from my nap, I felt worse than when I went to sleep. I had planned on going to the village to hang out with Thabang and his family later that day, but I just felt sick to my stomach and had a huge headache, and so I just went back to bed.

I was fine in the morning, and I spent almost all of Sunday in Welverdiend. Vivian was going there anyway to visit some friends that day, and I was hanging out with Thabang's family that day, so we walked together to the village. We managed to hitch a ride to the bus stop, where we split off. She went off and did her thing, and I waited for Thabang to come pick me up there, because I didn't remember exactly how to get to his house. While I was waiting, these two kids, a boy and a girl, somewhere between 7 and 10 years old, were sitting, playing some kind of game in the dirt. They asked me to come play with them, so I did. I don't know the name of the game, but it was very similar to this board game I used to play back home called Mancala. They dug holes in the ground in two rows per player, and in each hole there were four small stones. We each picked a hole to draw a circle around, and I'm pretty sure the object of the game was to get all our stones into the circle first. You play by picking a hole and taking the stones out of it and placing them one in each hole consecutively counter-clockwise along the board. If your last stone falls in a hole that has stones in it, you pick them up and re-distribute them the same way, and if it lands in an empty hole, your turn is over. After that we played this other game, I think it was called Marababa, involving drawing a square with a plus sign in the middle in the dirt and putting stones at the intersections, taking turns, trying to get three in a row, which allows you to capture one of your opponent's pieces. Whoever takes all the other person's pieces first wins. After that Thabang showed up and we went and visited his family.

I met a few more of his cousins and siblings and aunts and uncles, who all live in the same big family complex in Welverdiend. I also met his grandparents. His grandmother taught me how to make marula beer, which was quite fun.

Later, his aunt braided my hair. Having such long hair, this took the better part of an afternoon. His cousins came over at this time as well and it was fun watching the little ones play this game involving string and patterns of jumping. One of his cousins helped with my hair for a bit, and she and his aunt were chattering back and forth in Sotho the whole time.

My Sotho isn't great, so Thabang did a little bit of translating and I did a lot of zoning out. It's really hard not knowing the languages here. At work, everyone speaks English to me, and either Afrikaans or Shangaan to each other, depending on their skin color. I can greet everyone in their native languages here, but I haven't gotten far beyond that. I started learning Shangaan, and then I started dating a Sotho guy, so then I had to start learning Sotho to try and greet his family properly, and a lot of times they mix languages here and throw in some other ones too, so even if I did know one language fluently, it'd be hard to follow them. But I'm so far from fluent that it all sounds like gibberish to me. Most of the time I just zone out when people start having conversations around me, because I don't know what they're saying anyway, and then when they do talk to me again, they have to repeat themselves to get me to respond, because I'm not actually listening; I'm somewhere else. It's getting really frustrating going anywhere or talking to anyone outside of work, because if I'm with more than one person, the other two people will start talking to each other in Sotho or Shangaan or Afrikaans, and I can't understand it. The people here must think I'm really boring, because I don't talk much when there's a group. Ah, language barriers.

Anyway, I like how my hair came out, and later, back at the college, Vivian taught me how to care for braids. First rule: keep them the fuck away from water. Second rule: wrap/tie them up when you sleep at night. Third rule: use spray-in shampoo on a daily basis. Fourth rule: Re-braid as necessary. Here are a few pictures:

So, after that, Thabang came back to the college with me and slept over until Monday. That day he actually spent helping me clean house, which was a pleasant surprise. However, there was an event leading to an unpleasant interaction at work on Tuesday.

Let's get back to race, shall we? On the other side of things, I work with some pretty two-faced bigoted white people. Case in point:

This weekend, Monday, Thabang and I were waiting for transport to take him back to the gate, and we were sitting on the steps outside of reception together. Monday was a holiday, so nobody had to be at work. However, somebody was. This person, who shall remain nameless, happened to see Thabang and I together, and *gasp* saw us kissing!

That day we got nothing more than a dirty look, but the next day at tea-time, before anyone else got there, this person pulled me aside and felt the need to tell me that my "interactions with [my] comrade there were unbecoming" and against the school's code of conduct. Now, this is complete and utter bullshit. Firstly, I was never given any kind of rule-book when I signed on here. I was made to sign a waiver and an affirmation that I'd read the grievance procedure (which I had to seek out on the server by myself, I might add). Secondly, back when we first started dating, Thabang was still working here, and I'd see him at lunch-time still for my Tsonga lessons, at which I may or may not have kissed him once or twice in public, I looked up whether we even had a code of conduct (which we don't) and whether anything I was doing was against it (which it can't be). Somewhere on the server I found a document detailing all the things a person could be disciplined for, and what actions merited what disciplinary measures and so on. And guess what? There is absolutely NOTHING against public displays of affection ANYWHERE in that document, nor in any document anywhere on the server.

So, beyond there being no actual rules in place, and even if there were, me not being properly made aware of any such rules, if I'm to go by example, I'm still not doing anything wrong. Half the people who work in the offices here are married couples, and as such, there is a certain amount of kissing and nuzzling that go on in the offices, during work hours, on a regular basis. Now, nobody says anything at all whatsoever about that. However, I kiss my boyfriend on my own time, not even in the office, and an administrator who's not even in my department feels the need to suddenly inform me that there are rules against that. What's the freaking difference!? I do realize that dating and married are two different things, but seriously, when it comes to simple kissing, I wasn't doing anything I'd be ashamed of doing in front of my own parents, but somehow it's "unbecoming" and against the rules? But it's okay for other office couples to smooch and cuddle and whatever so much so that it has actually nauseated me, and nobody says anything?

Can anybody tell me why the double standard? What's that boys and girls? Oh, yes, my boyfriend is black. And me kissing my BLACK boyfriend personally offends some people who work here, so people make things up about me breaking some rule that doesn't even exist. I'm willing to bet that if I'd been seen kissing a white guy, nobody would give a damn. Am I jumping to conclusions? Possibly. However, I think it's more likely that racism is still strong in South Africa and the mixing of races is still considered "immoral" to some people. Race is just a color. It doesn't mean anything. It's the person underneath the skin that matters. Good people, and bad people, come in every color, shape, and size. And as soon as people everywhere realize that and stop acting like skin color makes a damn bit of difference, the world will be a better place. At least they had the balls to say it to my face, though. For that I must give them credit. I'm sure more people are talking about me than to me. And it's stupid to think like that anyway, but at least someone finally said something to my face.

Summary of LAST weekend.

Friday at about 2:00 (normal library hours are M-F 8-5) students from one of the field guide courses came in and said that they had a huge project due Monday and could the library stay open late that evening and/or on the weekend. This wasn't just one or two, but the whole class. So, because we're here to serve the students, my boss said yes, and “asked” if I could come back after supper, around 7 o'clock, to open the library for these students, and then work an additional 8 hours over the weekend. I mean, I did have plans, but duty calls. We've done this before, and the students were always really grateful. It worked out that I'm working Saturday morning for 4 hours and Sunel is working on Sunday morning for 4 hours and we're both taking half-days on Monday.

So, I get to the library after supper and open it up. I decided not to do anything library-related because this was after-hours and I'd been at work all day. Instead I put together this first draft of my library journal for my PFE instructor. Nobody showed up. This made me so mad, and I'm contemplating not coming in on Saturday for them. They asked if we could open the library for them tonight, we did, and then they didn't use it. They shouldn't be allowed back at all, nevermind after-hours. I had every intention of sleeping until ten tomorrow and then have company over for brunch. But I changed my plans to late-afternoon and I have to get up at 6 AM on a Saturday, and if they don't show up...well, let's just say that I'm not going to be pleased. I'm sure in the final draft I'll report on the outcome of this situation and reflect on “user services” or something of the like.

What happened on Saturday morning was that I found some of the students at breakfast, hung over from partying on Friday night, and lectured them. The whole crew came in to the library and worked diligently all morning. Some of the students had never used a computer before in their lives, and their teacher expected them to use the internet to research some basic ecology questions, which they could've gotten the answers for from books, but their teacher wanted them to go online, so I got to give a crash course in using the google.

After I got out of work, Thabang came over. We just hung out on campus most of the day, he slept over, and in the morning we went to the village. Tukiso, Thabang's brother, coaches a ladies' soccer team, and he really wanted me to come watch them play. Well, last weekend, they were playing on their home turf, so I came and watched the game. It was the last game of the regular season, and because they won (3-2), they get to go to play-offs. I went and hung out with the team afterwards for a bit, and they were all really excited to have me talk to them, but they were shy about responding, even though they do all know English. They liked me because I was a foreigner and I came to watch them play. Of course they wanted to have their picture taken with me, and they even gave me jersey to wear, making me an honorary member of their team. It was all rather strange, but fun at any rate.

After that I got to finally see where Thabang lives and meet some other members of his family. After that, we met up with Thabang's friend, Thabiso, and just walked around and chatted a bit. Then we got chips (fries) and bread, because they make sandwiches out of them down here, and their fries all have chili on them in the villages. These ones were too hot for me, so I didn't eat much. On the way back to the college the sky just opened up and we got soaked. I somehow had to find dry clothes to fit Thabang and Thabiso, which was really rather amusing. We just hung out and chatted while we waited out the rain storm and by then it was time for the boys to go home. The two of them tried to teach me Sotho, but I'm terrible at it. At least I'm trying.

Nobody tell Thabang that I put this picture up of him and Thabiso drying off in my kitchen. He'll be mad at me. It was just too funny to me at the time how soaked everybody got.

Ah, what a busy week!

Sunel was gone Monday and Tuesday, so I was running the show at the library. It was relatively quiet on the staff-side because everyone knew she was gone until Wednesday so the phone wasn't constantly ringing with people looking for her. I actually got to take my lunch break on time and not plough through my food like a heathen in order to make it to my Tsonga lesson with more than 15 minutes left. I'm sure if Sunel has figured out what I do with my extra lunch time, she'd resent me having more interest in Tsonga than Afrikaans. No offense, but Afrikaans is just too difficult. It's related to English slightly, so you'd think it'd be easier, but it's not. It is easier when I'm reading it, though, because I can see how the word looks similar to an English one, and I can usually figure out the gist of something (which is helpful when I'm cataloging Afrikaans titles). And with Shangaan, it's pure memorization, but the words in Shangaan/Tsonga are so much easier for me to pronounce. If I can't figure out how to say a word, I won't remember it, and the spelling of Afrikaans words compared to how it's said is something I can never figure out.

While Sunel was gone, I basically got a bunch of cataloging done and helped students find/use library materials. Almost like I'm a librarian or something, ne? I was glad when she came back, though, because she brought with her a donation of about 200 books from Middleburg library. There were a lot fewer children's books than I'd hoped for, and of them, more were in Afrikaans than English, which members of the community would appreciate less. The village schools the books are intended for are entirely black schools, and if reading material isn't in their native language (good luck finding free books in Tsonga), English is preferred as it is a common language in South Africa that everyone knows, and it's becoming more and more a world language that will get you more opportunities if you can speak/read/write it fluently. Plus, some black people actually resent Afrikaans because they consider it a relic from Apartheid, and if a kid comes home from school with an Afrikaans book and not also an English one, then some parents might feel that they're being forced to learn it rather than English or their home language.

So, after unloading, unpacking, and sorting the books, I had to assess their content and quality in relation to needs of the intended patrons. In non-library jargon, it means I had to figure out what to keep and what to chuck. For instance, some of the books were in pretty poor shape, but if they were in English and a children's book, I'd keep it anyway. However, if it was in Afrikaans and an adult fiction book, it's also more likely to be kept, because there are a lot more Afrikaaners on staff who come looking for reading material at the library than Shangaanis. After figuring out what we have and what we need, I had to develop a strategy for addressing the gaps in the collection. Which in English means I had to figure out how to get more books. Keep in mind that I have absolutely no money to order things. So, I've expanded my search geographically to include libraries slightly farther away who might be looking to get rid of some discards, and to follow up more directly with the libraries which didn't respond to a written request. Also this week I've drafted a letter to the department of education requesting assistance, and I'm researching community demographics and such to put into my proposal before I send it out.

I didn't actually realize until today that it wasn't just the schools which didn't have books. There's no library whatsoever anywhere near the villages. I mean, the closest public library is in a small town three hours' drive from here, and not many people who live in the villages even own cars. I knew the place was poor, and even after visiting there last week, I realized how poor, but it just never occurred to me that there wouldn't be even an inkling of a library anywhere. Maybe that's just the librarian in me being shocked, but I think even just as a person it's a bit of a culture shock. There we have it, folks, my second real dose of culture shock from South Africa (the first being when I realized that nobody here believes in evolution). I've decided that if I ever win the lottery, I'm coming back here to build a library in Welverdiend. I know nothing's going to happen in the remainder of my semester here, but I feel like eventually I want to have as a professional goal to build a library in rural Africa somewhere. But first I need to finish library school. Some days I feel like that's never going to happen. I've started more classes than I've finished, and anytime it looks like I'm going to get my shit together for a decent semester, I've got some personal crisis to deal with and school sits on the back burner. I was such a good student as an undergrad. In high school, too, and junior high, elementary, even in kindergarten I was ahead of the class. But somehow graduate school has combined forces with the Universe at large to kick my ass. But whatever. I'm going to stop whining about it now.

Looking up pictures of puppies and kittens on the internet was part of my job this week. And that just wins. The 23rd is International Spay Day, and it's my job to create postings to put up on the notice boards, so I got to search for pictures of adorable animals to decorate my informational posters. I like having something creative or fun to do when I get sick of cataloging. I also printed, colored, and cut out little pocket guides to safe and eco-friendly fish choices for people to take away on my biodiversity display (which I actually spied people stopping to look at!). Other things, other things...I'm constantly doing little things for Sunel, whether it's running an invoice down to accounting or faxing something, but I don't mind because it gets me out of my chair. I also researched prices for books that patrons particularly recommended we get, and helped decide which ones were feasible to obtain. I started cataloging the donations we got, and had to figure out a cataloging/labeling scheme for the children's books. That project is ongoing, and I think I'm going to wait until we get more donations before I finalize how it's all going to be.

I'm kind of annoyed that my knee still friggin' hurts. The doctor was supposed to call me today with some test results and a plan of action, but he didn't, and when I called, the receptionist kept insisting that he would get back to me today. I'll be pissed if he doesn't call me tomorrow. In fact, if I don't hear from him by lunch time, I'm going to call the office again and get obnoxious until I get to talk to the doctor.

*Update* Doctor finally got back to me, and sent my prescription to the pharmacy, which I couldn't get to. However, my boss's husband's brother's wife was coming through this weekend, so she went and picked it up for me, and I'll pay her back whenever I next get to the bank for some South African cash. Someone I've never met is picking up drugs for me and taking it on faith that I'll pay her back. Ah, the kindness of strangers. I mean, it's not totally random, but it's kind of out there. I'll be happy when I'm healthy enough to exercise and not need to sleep all weekend.

Slightly improved week

I feel like I probably over-reacted in my last post. Don't get me wrong, it was quite annoying, but I think I was letting my irritation at the situation get the better of me. Plus, my week got better slightly.

The college is getting audited, being a non-profit, it has to happen every so often to keep that status, so it's not a huge, scary thing. I mean, the managers and financial people are kind of going crazy, but I've got no stake in the matter, so I just go about my day as normal. But for me, it means four more people to eat supper with for a week who aren't creepy Africans wanting to marry me or people old enough to be my parents. Pieter, Andrea, Hayley, and something like Sorelda...I don't know...they can't remember my name either, but they know who I am. And three of them who are going have invited me to go with them to Phalaborwa tomorrow on a day-trip, which will be fun.

So, even if I don't go to the muchongolo (I'm sure I'm spelling it wrong) on Sunday, I'll at least have gotten off-campus this weekend. Getting a ride there/back is proving to be difficult. Thabang and Kaas, the ones who invited me, don't have their own transportation (they get to/from the college every day via a taxi which takes them along with a group of other construction guys from Welverdiend in a group), and the guy who drives them said he wouldn't drive me and Vivian, non-workers, to/from the college. Can you say, "lame"? I should ask Thabang what "lame" is in Tsonga. Speaking of which, I learned my first real "click" word today. Before, there were sounds that were almost clicks to my American ears, but they were really just t-l-h said together, but today I actually clicked. "Saturday" in Shangaan is Muqivela, where the q represents the click. This is so darn cool to me. I'm sure I sound like a moron to them when I try to speak their language though. And yet, they all say avuxeni to me every day, so at least they've got a sense of humor.

And back at the library, things are going well. I've been doing a lot of cataloging (over 400 reports so far, plus a bunch of books and magazines). I also had a meeting with the director of community outreach at the college to discuss my involvement with upcoming programs, arranged pick-up of a bunch of library donations, ordered take-away materials about the surrounding areas for students, and played office cupid. Valentine's Day is Sunday, when most people won't be working, so we decided to ask everyone to wear red to celebrate it on Friday at the office. Then Sunel went home and made a bunch of heart-shaped chocolates and I designed and hand-made cards for everyone (from recycled paper, because I'm eco-friendly like that). We went to the office early today to deliver them, and we even made ones for ourselves so that at tea time we could ponder aloud who might have left us all these adorable little Valentines. I think some people figured it out, though. But it was nice to surprise people like that. I loved watching people react to finding cards and candy on their desks. It makes me smile to know that I've brightened someone's day and they don't even know it's me.

::sigh::

Ah, Valentine's Day. How I used to adore thee so.

No longer may I taste the sweet without the bitter in tow.

/sappy poetry about my sad life

I still haven't seen a lion, though. I'm quite upset by this. Even on the bushwalk, we barely saw anything, missed a leopard by about ten minutes (found all the signs of one, but no predator itself). Ah, well. I've still got time. I haven't said no to a game drive yet, and it's only a matter of time before my chances of NOT having seen a predator are higher than having seen one.

Vivian wants to take me to church with her. She goes on Sundays whenever she can get a ride there. To be honest, I lost interest in church a long time ago, and I stopped going completely when my mother died; now I only go for weddings, funerals, and the occasional Christmas or Easter I'll get guilted into attending a service by a family member. I'm still spiritual, but the whole praying-in-a-group thing never really sat well with me. But I might go to church with Vivian sometime, purely because they sing in Tsonga and Zulu. I love music in other languages, and to hear it sung live by its native speakers is not something to miss. I don't care that it'll be all about Jesus or whatever and that I'll likely be the only white person there, because I'm enthusiastic about hearing the music. I think it's pretty much decided. Not sure when, but I think me going to church down here has to happen. Simply for the music.

Progress? Perhaps.

Today went by quickly. I put a few more things on the bulletin board: an article about the college that appeared in a local sponsor's magazine, a flyer about world wetlands day, and a bunch of suggestions about how to go green for Valentine's Day. The newsletter recently was completed, and so soon I'll print that up and post it too. It's nice not to have bare notice boards. It's also nice to do something besides cataloging to break up the day. I helped Sunel move a few things around/clean out a few cabinets and spaces today as well. Because the students are here now, I got sent home for a few hours in the middle of the day and came back after supper to keep the computer lab open into the night. I took a nap, which was nice, and did some cleaning too. It's easier to work at night. I got a lot of cataloging done this evening. I also answered my first real reference questions today. “Is this just a mosquito bite or should I be worried?” “What do you have about the towns nearby?” “Where should we go on our week off?”

I've also gotten a couple of the guys doing the thatching for the roofs to give me Shangaan lessons at lunchtime. I'm terrible at it, but it's still fun. I think I'm too old to learn a new language. They did invite me out with them, though, not this weekend, but next weekend, to a traditional dance in the village, which should be fun. Vivian might come too.

This weekend, though, I've got radio duty on Saturday, but on Sunday Sunel and Gawie are going into the park for the day and are taking me with them, so that should be fun. Tomorrow is Friday! Yay! (Yes, people still get excited about Friday on this part of the globe, heheh) 'Til next time!

Languages and Dead Things

Am I the only one who loves the smell of new library materials? Probably not. We got in some new books and magazines today, which made a nice cataloging break from the hundreds of reports that I've been doing. Seriously. I'm making progress though. Ek maak goeie vordering. (That's “I'm making good progress” in Afrikaans.)

I've decided to pick up as much Afrikaans and Shangaan as possible while I'm here. I don't have much else to do at lunch, and I rarely take the whole hour to eat, so I think starting tomorrow I'm going to show up at the squardavel that the contract workers have been taking their breaks in and ask them to teach me Shangaani. I've been saying “Avusheni” (Good morning) and all the related how-are-yous to them for a couple weeks now on my way to work, but that's really all I know how to say, and I'd like to learn more. They've been super-friendly to me since I started saying hi to them in their language. A couple of the construction guys have tried to speak Shangaani to me in passing, but I never know what they're saying, and when they tell me, it doesn't stick, because I don't use it all the time. Most of my coworkers also speak Afrikaans, and at tea time (yes, we have tea time) I don't know what anybody's talking about. They speak English to me, some better than others, but I'd like to be able to hear what they're saying to each other and understand it, so I've been asking my boss, Sunel, how to say little phrases here and there. Who knows how much will stick? I've never been very good at learning languages. But I'm trying.

So, things rarely actually are dead when I think they are here in Africa, but today two things actually were.

The first was a solifuge, which is related to a spider, but has pinchers instead of fangs and no venom, and looks wicked creepy (this coming from someone who thinks spiders are cool). They're also called red romans, camel spiders, sun spiders, and a host of other names. They can't actually kill you, but they bite when provoked, which can hurt. Anyway, think something like a tarantula, but creepier, and I found it dead in the library today while measuring for posters (we're getting backing and fiberglass to protect some posters that have been put up around campus, because with the heat and humidity, all these nice pieces of paper get gross pretty quickly, so it's my job to figure out a way to protect them and how much it'll cost).

My boss is wicked arachnophobic, which is unfortunate when living in South Africa, because spiders are literally everywhere. I told her, “Don't come back here, I'm going to go get Gawie.” And she was like, “Is it a spider?” To which I responded, “I'm not sure, but I think it's dead.” Sunel, “But what if it crawls?” Me, “Then I guess it's not dead, but it's not moving.” Sunel, “You stay there and make sure it doesn't move. I'll go get Gawie. I don't want to be alone in the same building as a spider.” And so she did, and Gawie came and picked it up and took it away, but not before identifying it and looking it up in one of the library's books so that I could learn more about it. I'm actually curious about these things, because I didn't know what the Hell it was or whether or not it could kill me, so whenever I encounter unknown wildlife, I ask Gawie what it is, and he'll tell me its name and something about it, and I'll go look it up.

The other dead thing was one of the squirrels inhabiting my house. The squirrels have a tendency to mess up the place. They eat anything even remotely resembling food unless you lock it up, poop everywhere, rip up the thatching in the roof for their nests, and leave their children lying around. That's right. Their babies. Just any old where. The babies fall from the ceiling because they're not fully able to scurry and balance properly, and the parents just leave them there, sometimes for days on end, before coming down to get them. The little buggers scream like nobody's business. Practically every day for the last two weeks a baby squirrel or two have fallen in various rooms in the house. I'm surprised every time I go into a room and the thing is still alive. Sometimes they really look dead, until you poke them. Well, today, the baby on the floor didn't move when I poked it. The thing really was dead. Ah, well, nothing to do but sweep it outside and let the snakes have it. Better than attracting snakes inside the house. And unlike the lizard lying on its back last night which started moving when I went to sweep it onto the ground, the baby squirrel stayed dead. I do feel kind of bad for it (the babies are cuter than their parents), but one can only have so much sympathy for a pest, an uncoordinated pest at that, with deadbeat parents who don't care enough to come rescue it. I kind of wish its parents had come to get it instead of letting it die on the floor, though. It's a little bit sad.

Monday, January 4th, 2010

It appears I'm not completely over jet-lag. Every night I've slept here, I've been incredibly tired when I went to bed (anytime between 10 PM and 1 AM), but then I'll wake up in the middle of the night and won't be able to fall back asleep. I'll get tired again when it's time to wake up in the morning, and wind up sleeping most of the day. Although the times I've been falling asleep/waking up/getting tired at have been slowly shifting, I'm not quite on South African time yet. It's been overcast and rainy since I got here, and I haven't spent a heck of a lot of time outside in general, but I'm hoping tomorrow it will be sunny and I'll spend some time outdoors. Natural light and fresh air are the best cures for jet-lag. Your body won't know when it's supposed to sleep if it never sees the sun.

My first hosts were really nice and even though they originally only agreed to keep me for the weekend, they said that after having me there, I could stay the rest of the week if I wanted. I'd already made arrangements with another host family for the next two days, though, so I declined. It's nice to know that I can go back if need be. Henti and Bronwen taught me a lot of things about the political and economic and racial situation here. Plus, they're really friendly and their daughter Victoria is adorable. They introduced me to a few new things, like biltong (literal translation “bull tongue”) which is a lot like beef jerky but not as dry, and this weird malted milkshake whose name I don't remember but it was good and tasted very familiar, and helped me figure out some of the differences in language between here and the U.S.A. Here's a run-down of what I've learned so far:

stroller/baby carriage = pram

period (punctuation) = full stop

traffic light = robot

fries = chips

napkin = serviette

line = queue

not all burgers are ground meat (some are patties/fillets)

five minutes or so into the future = now now

ten minutes or so into the future = just now

hello (telephone greeting) = how's it

languages are very fluid here, and it's not uncommon for English and Afrikaans to borrow words from each other randomly in the middle of a sentence

So, my second host family is another young couple, Thapelo and his wife Porsche, and their baby boy, Tsebo (he's very cute, but seems much more shy around me than Vicky was). I'm probably really spelling their names wrong, for which I'm sorry. Anyway, this morning my hosts had to work, and I wound up sleeping until they came home in the afternoon. Then I spent the rest of the evening just chatting with Thapelo about just about everything. He's traveled a lot, backpacked through a good portion of Africa, and so he told me what it was like visiting other African countries. And he took some amazing pictures on his journeys as well. Porsche cooked us supper, and it was delicious. The food here isn't all that different from traditional American/European food, in general, but there are a few things I've encountered so far that the States doesn't have. Mostly they just have a bunch of different kinds of sauces/gravies to flavor their food than what I'm used to, but they're really good. One thing I tried today was called pap (again I'm probably spelling it wrong). It looks like mashed potatoes but the consistency is a little more solid. It's kind of their staple starch, like rice or bread or potatoes. It was pretty good when eaten with meat and gravy. Later my hosts took me to the casino where, again we didn't gamble, but window-shopped and stopped in a bar for a drink and to chat. Again, I just really enjoyed their company, and comparing things like racism and poverty and education to that in the U.S.A. really makes one think.

I'm writing this on Tuesday at some bizarre hour of the morning, because again I can't sleep through the night, but I'm going to try and get back to sleep now. Because tomorrow (or, rather, later today), Porsche and Thapelo are taking me out into the city where I'll actually be doing some of the tourist-y things and getting to see what being out and about in the city of Jo'burg is like. So, I really ought to be well-rested for that.