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.