leaving so soon

I cannot believe that I will be in the U.S. in just a few days. It is scary and sad and exciting all at the same time. Out of everyone, there are only three of us left. I am the next one to leave on Saturday. When all of us were leaving, so many people were crying. I cried a little, but I was more weirded out than I was sad. Cape Town has become my new home, the people I have formed relationships with: I consider family, and close friends.

Being in the College of Music completely separated by everyone else in the program, I have become extremely close to so many South African and other African students. I have said my goodbyes to most of them already, which has been really hard because unlike the other Americans I have met, I can't just pick up and visit them for a weekend. The reality is that even though I am keeping in contact, I won't see many of these people again. I'm sure that will really hit me once I am home.

My friends. My family in Langa. The kids with whom I work. The patients I see. The professors from whom I've learned so much. All these people who have shaped my experience here, and myself as a young adult, I am leaving behind.

It is true what people tell you about studying abroad: "You'll come back a totally different person...it really changes you and the way you see the world." Having so many of my friends travel before me, I sort of blew this off, but it is true, really. Especially studying in a place like South Africa, living in Cape Town, staying in the townships, visiting other regions and traveling to other African countries.....it's unbelievably true. I can only speak for myself and my experience but I have learned a lot about the world, the United States, other cultures, African countries, poverty, bureaucracy, HIV/AIDS, crime, beauty, appreciation for everything I have, etc. I could go on, but I think you get an idea.

Time and time again I've been asked by South Africans, "Why did you come to South Africa? Why didn't you go to Europe?" People are always puzzled and interested by my choice. For me there are so many reasons: wanting some place new, always aspiring to travel Africa, volunteering, adventure, somewhere outside of my comfort zone..a chance to miss the Chicago February.

I think traveling is one of the best things any human can do for him or herself. You get the opportunity to apply what you've learned while also educating yourself. I'd encourage anyone who reads this to travel as much as you can. Explore the parts of the earth outside the western world. Embrace and be respectful of new cultures while appreciating what and who is at home waiting for your arrival.

musical therapy with kids

So I have been here for six months and swear I have done more than take jump out of planes and dangle over cliffs and waterfalls...For some time now I have been working with British jazz pianist turned musical therapist, Chris Wildman, at the Red Cross Children's Hospital and Brooklyn Chest TB Hospital. I'll describe each place...

At the Red Cross Children's Hospital I work in the burn victim intensive care unit. These kids have been badly burned in accidents, experiencing horrific traumas. These kids spend all day stuck in the hospital with very few visitors. They see the doctors and nurses as agents of pain and suffering, so when musical therapists engage with the kids and the doctors and nurses, the kids see that they are on our side...especially when they laugh and play with us.

I also work at the Brooklyn Chest TB Hospital, the only TB hospital in the Western Cape. Chris prepared me for my experiences here as best as he could, but the first time I walked in Ward B, I felt like there was a 500 lb weight on my chest. I literally felt physically ill when I walked in. The place looks like a compound or prison of some sort, different wards for adults, children, very sick, etc. The rooms are lined with beds and the adult wards have some people that are there, literally waiting to die. It is the most depressing place I have ever been to. The kids I work with there are in two groups: 4-7 years old or so and babies/toddlers.

The whole focus of musical therapy is empowerment. We don't play music for the kids and let them watch, rather we engage with them, bringing all sorts of instruments. Sometime they'll play the guitar (open-tuned) or the tambourine, blocks, or marimba. We work individually and also in small groups, encouraging the kids to lead one another in group. Most of the kids have never had the opportunity to be leaders, so they enjoy this a lot. We also aim to build their confidence through musical expression. With the 4-7 years old group, we also dance around and do (limited) physical activity, though some are so sick they can only watch.

When we work with the babies, we sing and play guitar, and by singing I mean making primitive noises like "goo goo," "ga ga," "la la," "lee lee," etc. and we watch to see what reactions we can get from them. Remember it is all about empowering and engaging. A lot of the kids are orphans and some are HIV positive, so they have abandonment issues. It is important not to get attached to them, pick them up and hold them, because they long for mother figures.

I made this mistake only once in the baby/toddler ward. We are only supposed to pick them up if they are screaming/crying. Otherwise we sit next to them and rub their backs. I picked up this one little boy and I swear, every time I tried to put him down, he would scream and grip me so tightly. Another boy even called me "mommy" once, which is a completely terrifying word when referring to me.

It is tough work and extremely depressing but I also obtain joy when working at these places. It also breaks my heart and sometimes keeps me up at night as I wonder what the kids do when we are not there...

zimbabwe/zambia

I'm back from experiencing my first natural wonder of the world: Victoria Falls. my computer is officially broken until i get back to the United States, so I can't include any pictures or videos. Once again, my attempt at story telling won't do justice to this trip so here's a brief overview of what we did.

Once we flew into Zimbabwe we went straight to the border into Zambia to settle in. It was nearly 3pm so we thought we'd hop on the sunset booze cruise on the Zambezi river. We met people from all over the world, brought to this part of Central Africa by the urge to volunteer and search for adventure. We saw hippos and crocodiles and giraffes and all sorts of animals as we sailed cruised. Afterward we sat around a bonfire at the riverbank and where there was a bar awaiting us. The next morning we went to the falls with two of our new friends who were traveling the world. We hiked all around, getting completely drenched...it was incredible, how enormous the waterfall is. We hiked down to the boiling pot, the biggest whirlpool in the world, which was also incredible. Later in the afternoon we took a helicopter tour to see the falls from above, the way something with such immensity should be seen. It's a shame I can't post my pictures...google image?

The next day Katie went to Botswana for safari, Caroline went white water rafting on the Zambezi and I walked with lions in the morning and did an elephant-back safari in the afternoon. In the morning I learned how Africa has had a 90% population decrease since the late 70s, and wildlife refuges raise cubs, then release them into the wild. So these lions we walked with were not drugged, like some tourist companies do for people to walk with them. They were really cute and I got to walk and hold their tails, pet them, etc. We also were lucky to see one of the lions stalk its prey. After that, I laid out by the pool before leaving for safari. Because everyone else in the group came as a couple, spanish traveler, Juan, and I were paired on elephant. We rode through the bush and spotted several animals, stopped by the Zambezi river to drink, etc. Was a great safari.

Later that night we hung out with all the river and safari guides from all over, because our hostel bar is the hangout. I went out with them to a couple of local bars which was quite the experience. It was strange and exciting and local and - ah. It was cool to be the only American there. The next day we left to abseil down the gorge, then we did the flying fox over the gorge...which is basically like wearing a harnest (sp?) and run toward the cliff. You jump off like a diving board and fly across the gorge via zip line, hands free. After this we did the gorge swing which is comparable to bungee jumping, but no bungee once you've reached the end of your fall, you are caught in a swing. I did this once stepping forward off the cliff and once rolling backward off the cliff.

We then crossed the border back into Zimbabwe and went straight to the hostel where there were dogs, pigs, cats, warthogs, roaming freely. Lots of elephant poop at the gas station so guess we just missed another herd. We went to the market and traded old clothes, pens, lotions, the shirt off my back, the bag from my shoulder, etc. with the village people for wooden bowls, statues, necklaces, etc. That evening I participated in another drum circle around a campfire with some local Zimbabwean musicians. This was, of course, like everything on this trip, incredible. I know I'm not being descriptive, but I'll just be using the same words over and over again...

That night Caroline and I went out to a concert for the local people at a school field which featured local Zim musicians. I would guess a few thousand people were there. During the second act, the power went out, so people were dancing and chanting and singing. The Zim guys are some CRAZY dancers...anyway, then one of the guys we were with grabbed a guitar from stage and started playing Bob Marley's Redemption Song. We all held each other and sang in the dark. This was one of those moments where I wish I had magical glasses that everyone I love could see what I'm doing.

The next  morning we went to the falls from the Zimbabwe side....which was a way better view than from Zambia. We hiked around again and took some pictures for the parents...yatta yatta. The COMESA conference of 19 African countries was taking place in Vic Falls and at the airport we ended up seeing the Presidents/Prime Ministers from several countries like Sudan, Swaziland (king), Kenya. Sure we saw them, but had no idea who was who. It was still pretty cool though, having them on the other side of the glass while we watched them walk the red carpet to their big jets, delaying our flight. 

I met the most outgoing, brilliant and fun people in Zambia and Zimbabwe and have already been in contact with them. I really hope to get back some day to volunteer and spend a lot of time there. I definitely recommend traveling to Vic Falls if you ever get the chance....

rest in peace

I haven't written for a while for two reasons: final exams and performances AND my computer crashed...so it is in some warehouse being repaired, hopefully. This same thing happened to my laptop exactly two years ago during finals week...weird.

SO last Thursday like every other one before it, I went to Makhulu's aftercare in Langa (black township) to help the kids with homework and teach music. When I arrived there was a large tent pitched in the front yard...I assumed we were doing something nice for the kids but then VooVoo came outside with a distressed look on her face. "I'm so sorry, we forgot to call you! There is no aftercare today...Makhulu's son died."

Okay, I thought. I had just watched my ride drive away, not to return for a few hours. She took me to the garage where members of Makhulu's family were preparing hot cakes and coffee. I passed by the house and peeked through the window and saw the living room was full of family and friends, singing beautiful hymns. I felt terribly awkward in my adidas pants and tennis shoes but walked in the garage and introduced myself to her family. Apparently they heard all about me from Makhulu and the work I do for her, and said I was part of their family and even gave me a xhosa name: Thembisa, meaning "promise."

After a while of helping out, VooVoo said "Makhulu wants to see you." I was nervous and had no idea what to say to this woman who just lost her only son in a terrible accident. When I walked in the house, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at this strange white girl who stumbled in the door. I sat on the cough with Makhulu and held her hand as she detailed what happened to Xolilo in Johannesburg. She offered me life advice and introduced me to the rest of her family in the room, including his wife. Talk about not knowing what to say. Anyway, he was killed in a car accident the Friday before, and they explained to me that in their culture, the mourning of a loved one lasts about ten days. I stayed the rest of the evening talking with everyone about the family, Xhosa culture, etc.

Makhulu's nephew, Mluleki, picked me up at my apartment on Saturday afternoon for the memorial service at their 7th Day Adventist Church. We went from her home, to the Church, to the mortuary, back home. I felt like I was part of the family as everyone was glad to see me: "Come baby, come here with us." "Why do you stay in Langa? You want to make a difference in our community? Will you help the people in this community?" "We love you Nicki," and "Thembisa! Baby Thembisa! Come meet more family.." When we arrived at the Church, there was a group of kids outside playing...they looked at me strangely, like everyone else did who hadn't met me yet. Luckily the only things they said to me in Xhosa I knew exactly how to respond. This excited and puzzled them and they laughed so hard at me. "It's a WHITE SISSY!!" They shouted, still roaring with laughter. I went into the Church, which was filled with about 300 people, me sticking out like a lump on a log..is that the saying?

All in all the evening lasted about five and a half hours and I wish I had hours to write about all of the speeches, music, happenings, but I can't. No matter what I try to write it just won't do the experience justice. I can tell you that I sang Xhosa songs, listened to pastors preach in English and Xhosa, heard the MOST beautiful Choir, cried a little, ate delicious food, met incredible people, and became part of a large family here. Xolilo was buried on Sunday, the final day of the 10 day mourning period. I can't imagine what it would be like to bury my child...and let me reiterate if I've never said this before, black South Africans, I feel, are among the most resilient and admirable people I have ever been blessed to meet.

That's all for now, I leave Thursday morning for Zimbabwe and Zambia but will try to update once more before then. I really hope I get my computer back soon so I can add more pictures...

Until then.