Table Mountain Sunrise Farewell

So, this is it. Our last sinrise in Africa. At least for the time being. And, my last blog. At least for the time being. Lots more stories to tell, but they'll have to be face-to-face. Can't wait.

In the mean time, enjoy the sights and sounds of our last Table Mountain sunrise.

See you soon,

Seth./.

p.s. One last story for the road. When we meet, ask me about "passion gap."

"You're just so Not-American"

So, how do you wrap up a year like this, succinctly, with a nice little bow, with no lose ends, having drawn the most acute insights possible from the experience? You don’t really. But going through the goodbyes with colleagues at UWC and UCT, and friends in Cape Town has pushed me to try to capture some of the learning that has taken place over the past year.

It is amazing to me how this one theme kept emerging...

Saying Good-Bye at UCT

My last day at UCT was wonderful. All the work had been wrapped up earlier in the week. I had a great final meeting with Judy, Sonwabo and Frank, some of the leaders from the "Social Responsiveness Committee" that I've worked closely with over the past year. My “Facilitator Training” for the upcoming “students in/and community conference” happened on Tuesday, and went really well. This is a conference that a group of activist students at UCT are organizing, and I've been helping them a bit with the planning. And the community partner lunch with Marlese and the new law and social justice service learning course took place on Wednesday, and resulted in some wonderful exchange between the prof (Marlese) and some very dynamic community organizations. They had done their homework, had read the course outline Marlese had sent them, and were very interested in sharing their ideas about social justice, and the relationship of these theories and concepts to the reality of the work they do (women's rights; farworkers' rights; youth development; housing and homelessness). It was a great meeting of "theory meet practice!" Sweet.

Then on Thursday, I took the day off and we got some boxes shipped off through the US Embassy, and said our goodbyes to the folks there. All that was left was a noon-time party at UCT, with my colleagues from the Center for Higher Education Development, CHED, my home for the past year.

Janice organized a wonderful, groundbreaking lunch. Groundbreaking in so far as they served wine, which was a first for a noontime gathering at CHED! A number of people spoke, including the Dean, the Director of the department where I had been affiliated, a representative from the School of Health Sciences with whom I had worked a lot on the social responsiveness policy working group, a student, and my colleague Janice. They all had wonderful things to say, about the work I had been able to accomplish, and the contributions they felt I’ve made to UCT.

I’ll spare you the self-congratulatory details, but one theme stood out for me that I do want to share, that echoed a theme from the goodbye party at UWC a week earlier. That is: you are a very NOT-American American! Not mincing words, colleagues from both campuses talked about how they were not necessarily looking forward to another “know-it-all professor from the US” coming to share their wisdom, tell them all what is right and wrong, and without any knowledge of the local context, critique their work. Pretty shocking, huh? Now I surely knew about the image of the ugly American tourist. And, I have also had lots of intimate opportunities to get to know the arrogance that comes with academia. BUT, I had never put these two things together. What a powerfully ugly combination: the UGLY AMERICAN ACADEMI! The know-it-all of all know-it-alls! Arrogance supreme.

How Low the Bar!

So, with that as the expectation, it was absolutely wonderful to be complemented as being the NOT-American academic. People really appreciated that I listened, and that I struggled to understand their context and their history. They appreciated how I didn’t try to bring the CSUMB service-learning dogma to them, but was willing to rethink and rework the concepts, so that they made sense for their own context and experience!

I guess when the bar is set so low, it is easy to stand out. The incredibly depressing insight is the realization of how low the bar was actually set. I know we can’t blame it all on the Bush presidency, but the words “American” and “arrogance” sure seem to go together in many people’s minds. Throw the word “academic” on top of that, and you have the very un-holy trinity of the Triple A: ARROGANT AMERICAN ACADEMIC.

Hopefully, I have contributed a little toward replacing the adjective ARROGANT with the words RESPECTFUL, CURIOUS, and CONTEXTUALLY-SENSITIVE (need to come up with a better word for CONTEXTUALLY-SENSITIVE). Amazing the impact that the past eight years, and a couple of wars, has had. Get out there friends. We've got work to do.

Blog ya later,

Seth./.

Catalysing Change in Pharmacy

OK, so perhaps you would have to be a service learning person to truly get excited by this scene: a big long table in the University of the Western Cape School of Pharmacy "Pharmacy Practice Foyer," around which were seated 7 professors (including the new Dean), 7 hospital/Communty Healthcare Center pharmacists, and two Cape Town health department bureaucrats. Rock on! What a party!

This was the party we had pulled together for my grande finale at the UWC School of Pharmacy. It was our "winter" service learning reflection session, where we had invited the 10 partnering hospitals and Community Healthcare Center pharmacist to come and share their insights, talk to professors, and keep on building the "Service Learning in Pharmacy" (SLIP) program, which has been my home for the past year at UWC. The most special guest was the new "Dean" of the school, who had just come a few months ago, and was struggling somewhat to understand what this "service learning" and "social justice" thing was all about. (No offense to my scienctist friends, but he is a laboratory chemist, afterall!) So, this was to be the first time for him to meet the partners, and to hear their perspectives on this program. Another special guest was the Director of Pharmacy services for the Cape Town district of the Department of Health. In other words, the bossman of all the pharmacists sitting around the table, who has been a big supporter of the SLIP program and helping to advance the idea of "patient-centred care."

The REAL VALUE of Service Learning
The previous day I had gone out to lunch with the new Dean, and was trying to help him understand service-learning. Like many new to this work, his undersanding of service learning was pretty literal: students do work in pharmacies, provide help to the way over-stressed staff, and at the same time, strengthen their knowledge about pharmaceutics and pharmacology. He was happy that the program seemed to be doing all those things, but his worry was that the "block" approach (students coming for 2 weeks at a time, 3 times during the academic year), did not give the pharmacies the consistent support that they really needed. He proposed that we change the schedule to have students come 2 times/week, on a regular basis for the entire year. He thought that this kind of consistent "service," would be of greater value to the overstretched pharmacies. Afterall, isn't that what they really need? People to take some of the burden off their huge work load?

In the car on the way to and from lunch the previous day, I had tried to share my perspective on the "real value" of service learning. I had told him that from my experience at CSUMB, and from what I had heard from my interviews with the hospital and CHC pharmacists in my evaluation the previous semester, there was something much richer happening in service-learning partnerships. While the contribution that students can make to reducing the work load was valuable and a real help, the real worth of the program was the emerging conversation that was linking practitioners and academics around the deep issues that they are struggling with: trying to deliver quality healthcare in one of the most unequal societies in the world! Once again, it emerges that even though pratitioners ARE overwhelmed, and even though that supervising students IS extra work, it is all worth it when there is a sense that we are working together to find solutions to the real problems, the structural problems, that we are facing. For pharmacists, this means reconnecting with the original reason they entered the profession, to provide quality healthcare. Unfortunately, with the reality of HIV, TB, hypertension, and diabetes all endemic in the poor South African population that they serve , all pharmacists are able to do is hand-out pills. (80% of South Africans use pubilc healthcare; while 65% of doctors work in the private sector...the Mitchell's Plain Community Healthcare Center serves over 1 million people! That's right, the only hospital in a subur of 1 million people, with very high rates of HIV and TB infection.) Or as they say "pick (the drugs off the shelf), lick (the labels that tell the patient what to do), and stick (the labels on the container)."

So, the real value of service-learning is that we are providing a space where the practitioners can pull their heads above water for a moment, and ask the questions that they walk around with all day long:

• What is the pharmacist's role in primary healthcare delivery?
• In addition to their technical knowledge in pharmaceutics and pharmacology, what other knowledge, skills and values do pharmacists need to sensitvely and effectively help people use medicines wisely?
• How do we inspire the next generation of pharmacists to embrace the challenges affecting the field?

And guess what happened at this meeting? Even though I presented the new Dean's proposal for re-working the schedule, the partner pharmacists themselves said: "We like the intensity of the 2-week blocks. That allows us to really help the students get connected to the site, and get more depth from the experience. And anyway, if it was just to dispense drugs, we would hire part-timers to fill in the gaps."

My Parting Gift: "We Need to Meet More Often."

It was so cool that I didn't have to say it, but that the partners themselves so eloquently expressed this deeper value that has emerged through their work with the university over the past year. Their enthusiasm for this project was so powerful, that it almost scared the new Dean. What a shock: a roomfull of passionate and empowered public sector employees, not the overworked, apathetic healthcare drones that the stereotype leads one to expect! As we were wrapping up, the director of pharmacy services for Cape Town said: "This is great, but getting together 2 times/year is not enough. We need to meet more often to put real energy into this project. We can come up with some pilot efforts that can be implemented with students' support. And we will be able to demonstrate to the Department that there is another way to deliver pharmacy services that is more patient-centred." And everybody around the table nodded in agreement. I'm sure you can feel the energy, no?

What a fabulous good-bye present that was. I couldn't have asked for anything more (even though I did appreciate the pen and the UWC tie that the staff presented me at the end of the meeting). To have a room full of very busy people, from very different walks of life, with lots of paperwork and patients and students waiting for them, look at each other and say, "we need to meet more often," that is real proof that this work is valuable. And even though they said, "Seth, you can come to," the best gift for me as the "external catalyst," was that they were looking at each other, and making this commitment to each other, and not to me.

I usually use the metaphor of "planting seeds." But I think the chemical metaphor is much more appropriate in this pharmacy context. I think I have been a pretty effective catalyst here. The ingredients were here. Afterall, the project had existed and was running for 3 years. But, I definitely inserted some new concepts/ideas into the mix, about values and social justice and confronting inequality. And I also nurtured the partnership, creating space for a meaningful conversation, developing a common agenda. Some kind of chemical reaction definitely has taken place. That room was definitely bubbling and frothing like a magic social justice-oriented service learning potion! Let's hope that they have enough of the right ingredients to keep it cooking. Afterall, the health of millions of people depend on it.

Blog ya later.

Seth./.

Some Rainy Day Thoughts

A month from tomorrow and we'll be getting on the plane to California, saying goodbye to what has been an inspiring year for the Pollacks in Cape Town. It's full-on winter in Cape Town now, which means clouds and wind and rain, and short days and long nights. Good days for rooibus tea (our new favorite, with milk!), and a fire place. Or, a quiet day without any meetings at one's office (as is the case today).


Obama's Speech in Cairo
Yesterday Obama gave his long-awaited speech in Cairo. I've read the speech, and have been reading reactions to it this morning. I so appreciate what he said, putting Israelis and Palestinians on equal footing as human beings deserving of dignity and a home and a viable future. But even more importantly, I love HOW he said it. So many of the articles commented how he included quotes form the Koran. And the New York Times commented how exceptional it was for him to open his speech with "Salaam Aleikum." It seemed that this simple act of greeting people in their own language was a historic first step for an American president in the Arab world.


Wow! Are we that pompous? Are we that dis-connected? Are we that arrogant? I guess we can be. But if you've ever lived in a muslim country, you know how rich life is made by the blessings and prayers that are offered to both G_d and to each other throughout the day. "Bissimilayi" or "welcome," when you arrive somewhere; or sometimes in an animated discussion, it might mean "I can't believe it!" "Allah akbar" or "G_d is great!" or again, it can mean something like "Unbelievable!" "Wallaayi" or "Ain't that the truth!" Amazing that our leaders can be so disconnected, and that we Americans can be so insulated. It really shows us that for those of us who have lived in diverse settings, and come to know the human reality that connects all of us so deeply, we have a responsibility! We have to lead with our truth, and demonstrate our love and understanding in more bold ways. Yes, saying "Salaam aleikum" might just be a radical act of transformation! (By the way, I found Thomas Friedman's piece, though written before the speech was delivered, to be wonderful: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/03/opinion/03friedman.html?em)


A Bicycle Commute in the Rain
So, although I've been a pretty regular road rider on Satudays, and somewhat regular in spin classes in the gym during the week, I've not at all used my bike to commute to campus. Everyday, I sit in traffic for a good 30-45 minutes, taking the girls to school and then making my way to either UCT or UWC. Either way, I spend minutes creeping along at a snail's pace, in a line of cars that seems to go on forever. This is the first time in my life that I have EVER had to go with traffic in a commuting rush. In Monterey, I have a 10 minute drive (45 minute ride on bike paths) against traffic to CSUMB. In Palo Alto, I had a bike, and in Manhattan, it was either bicycle or subway. Now, for the first time, I am sitting with everyone else, listening to talk radio as I snail my way to work in the mornings.


Well, today was going to be my day. We had to bring our car into the shop for a service before we sell it, so I was completely excited to put my bike in the car, and then ride from the repair shop up the hill to UCT. This was going to be my moment of revenge. To go smoothly and quietly along the side, passing sitting motorists along the way, even on an uphill climb. (As you can see from the picture here, UCT is situated at the base of the backside of Table Mountain, just below "Devil's Peak," a nice climb up from the town of Newlands below.) This would be a sweet revenge, even momentary, for the months I had spent sitting in the traffic.


So, I dropped off Maya at school especially early (she had a final, and wanted to get there early anyway), and was at the dealership by 7:30, filling-out the paperwork, saying "see ya later" to our repair-person friend Leslie, putting on my bike shoes, tucking my pant legs into my socks, and then with the glee of a little boy riding his bike to school for the first time, I sped away. The weather was cooperating, as it was dark and grey, but no rain. To avoid the ugliest of the traffic, and the most dangerous of city streets, I snaked my way through the now familiar neighborhoods of Claremont and Newlands, up the hill to Newlands Avenue, which is one of my lest favorite congested stretches of my daily commute. But this time, I was able to fulfill my dream, and I got along the side of the line of cars, and with a silent smirk on my face, cruised by dozens of cars, up the hill to the M3, and then onto the UCT campus. 15 minutes later, I was in my office, sweaty but happy, feeling very fulfilled and proud of myself.


Then, I sat down at looked at my key chain --the car key was still on it! In my enthusiasm to get on my bike and fly by all the traffic jammed cars, I forgot to give Leslie the car key! So, after a searching call to Naomi, who had no interest in leaving the warm confines of our home and driving WITH TRAFFIC up to the shop with the other key, I got back on the bike, this time a little less joyously. Down the hill, past all those cars again, and to the dealership, where I gave a grinning Leslie the key!


My second trip up the hill to UCT was a bit less of a thrill, for two reasons. One is that it was now 8:30, so the worst of the rush hour congestion was over. I only got to speed by a dozen or so cars this time. Secondly, about half way up the hill, the skies opened up, and the rain started. So, by the time I got to campus, I was drenched. Nothing that a cup of rooibus tea can't cure. But at least I can now say that I've cycled to campus, twice!


Blog ya later.

Seth./.

"Our Clinics are Over-Researched. I'm ready to lock the doors!"

I've not written much about my work with the two Universities in service learning. Curriculum development, course evaluations and faculty workshops are not always the most exciting thing to read about. I guess I was waiting for some inspiring gems of wisdom to share. There have been some great moments, some real goose-bumpy, light-bulb illuminating, insight-rich moments. But now that there is only six weeks to go on our year here, I better start sharing a few. Let me start with yesterday, Friday.

4th Year Pharmacy Students and Day Hospitals
I went with two colleagues from the UWC School of Pharmacy to meet a community partner and continue the planning of a new 3rd year service learning program for the School of Pharmacy. I've done a lot of work with their 4th year program, helping it more clearly address issues of social responsibility and social justice, and providing a richer framework for reflection and learning. In their 4th year program, the students spend 6 weeks in pharmacies in both tertiary teaching hospitals and local "day hospitals." The "tertiary hospitals" include Groote Schuur Hospital, which is famous for being the place where Dr. Christian Barnard did the first heart transplant, and are generally modern and well-equipped. On the other hand, the "day hospitals" are the government hospitals that serve the majority of the population. Only 20% of the S.A. population have health care, and they use private hospitals. The other 80% get virtually free health care at these public facilities, and the "day hospitals," are the first point of access for many people. They have a reputation for being overcrowded and underserved, which is pretty true (fact: the Mitchell's Plain day hospital serves a catchment area of about 1 million people. It is the only hospital in that area!). These hospitals also have a reputation for having poorly trained doctors and nurses, which is VERY UN-TRUE! However, patients often wait for hours before seeing a doctor, and then additional hours in order to get their medicines from the pharmacy. You can imagine how crowded these hospitals and pharmacies are in the context of AIDS and TB, both of which are endemic in many of these communities. You now hae thousands of people coming in regularly for their anti-retral virals, and their TB medicines, which makes for even more stress on the pharmacies! Not a pretty picture.

New 3rd Year Service Learning Program
Working in the pharmacies in these "day hospitals," the pharmacy students get great insight into the pharmacy/drug side of health care, and the realities of the difficulties of the public health program in South Africa. BUT, given the workload, they get very little time to actually talk with patients, or to get to know the communities that their patients come from, and their social context. So for example, you give someone medicines which need to be refrigerated, and they have no electricity where they live. Or, if they have electricity, they don't have a fridge. What do you do? Or, you give someone a medicine that has to be taken 3 times/day with food, but in fact, the person only eats one meal per day. What do you do?

So, the 3rd year service learning program is designed to give the students more exposure to the patients and their communities by doing service in city health clinics which provide primary health care services to women and children. So, we went to meet with Mary (not her real name), who is the district manager for 10 clinics in the area surrounding UWC. Mary is amazing, and has been actively involved with service learning at UWC for 10 years. Ironically though, even though she has been at many meetings, she has yet to really get into a true service learning partnership with the university. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of students who come to Mary's clinics to "serve," including many nursing students. But as Mary says, they just come with their sheets, with a number of boxes that need to be checked off: x number of babies to be weighed; y number of pre-natal consults to be observed; z number of vaccinations to witness. From Mary's perspective, this is far from service-learning. This is checking-off boxes.

Service Learning is Really about Finding Common Agendas
What truly made this conversation different was the starting point. Our initial question to Mary and her staff was, "What kinds of issues do your patients experience with regards to compliance to their medications?" Well, that question set of a flood of stories and examples and situtions which people experience every day with regards to medication. And from there, we asked, "so, how can the 3rd year pharmacy students get exposure to these struggles and issues?" Together, we then developed an idea which is both at the heart of what Merle is struggling with at her clinics with regard to medications, and which provides the pharmacy students with the real-world exposure to communities and primary health care, which they have been missing. It was wonderful to see both the 2 academics from the UWC school of pharmacy, and the two health care administrators becoming so animated and excited, as the project began to come alive, and its scope and significance became more and more evident.

By the time the meeting ended, there was a wonderful sense that the beginning of a truly meaningful and reciprocal program had been created. Then, unprompted, Mary started to talk about her frustration with all the requests for research that she receives. As her clinics are right in the middle of neighborhoods hard hit by TB, by HIV, and by the "methamphetamine" scurge, they are prime targets for research. And yet, Mary's sense was that none of this research really had any impact on her capacity to delivery health care to the population. She recognized that there were undoubtedly some important insights that had been generated by the research, and that perhaps they did lead to some new laboratory-based innovation. But, none of this helped her deliver health care. Her issues continue to go un-met. It was then that she said, "I should just shut the door and say, 'No More.' Our clinics are so over-researched. We need some real research.

Hopefully, some "real research" will be one of the fruits that grow from the seeds of collaboration that were planted the other day.

Blog ya later.

Seth./.

Thunder Storm in Cape Town

We were woken up the other day to incredible thunder. This was unusual, because like our hometown of Monterey, CA, thunder and lightning rarely happens in the Cape. It felt as if the storm was right over our heads, as the lighting flashes were followed immediately by thunderous booms. It made for some pretty wild morning commuting, as the lightning was still going strong, and the rain was coming down in buckets.

Later that day, we receiveds some incredible photos from friends. I like this one, because you can see the incredible mountains which form part of downtown Cape Town, and which we have come to love so dearly over the past year. On the right, is Lion's Head. In the center is Table Mountain, and on the left Devil's Peak. This picture was taken from the North, looking across the harbor to downtown Cape Town. We've been living on the back side of Devil's Peak and Table Mountain, around to the left.

Blog ya later,
Seth./.

San Rock Art in the Cederberg

We have made some amazing trips during our year in South Africa, but one of the most stunning was our weekend in the Cederberg looking at incredible examples of San rock art. The Cederberg is a mountainous area about 200 miles from Cape Town. It is incredibly stark and barren, with few trees, and some amazing sandstone formations and rock outcroppings. And for perhaps 20,000 years, the San (arguably the oldest of all ancient peoples) lived in the caves of the region, doing their "hunting and gathering" thing, while using the regions many caves and overhangs as both shelter and canvas for their "rock art." As a result, the Cederberg is just a treasure chest of pictures, painted on these rocks thousands of years ago. This was definitely the coolest art gallery that I've ever seen.

For Naomi's birthday, I wanted to splurge and take us to a really high end resort called "Bushman's Kloof" (check out their website: http://www.bushmanskloof.co.za/), which is in the area, and is famous for its rock art (and luxury accommodations). But, being the ever practical realist, Naomi didn't want to spend the big bucks, so we went with a down-market option called "Traveler's Rest." We went up with our friends the Boraines, and rented two cute cottages, each with a fireplace and braai (BBQ) area. Right down the road from the cottages was a 4 km trail that took you through the cliffs and to 10 different rock art sites. The paintings were amazing, between 6,000 and 500 years old! It was so cool, as you wandered through these beautiful cliffs and hills and then would come across these amazingly beautiful cave paintings. One more beautiful than the next. At first, you didn't see much. But the more you looked, and the more trained your eye became, you started to notice that there were pictures everywhere you turned. You just couldn't help but feel the centuries and centuries that have past since these pictures were made, and wonder, "what would we leave behind, 6,000 years from now? Would it be as simple and beautiful and expressive?."

I've included a couple of pictures here, but for more, check-out the slideshow as well. Originally, the pictures had multiple colors --so they say-- but some of the colors didn't last as long as others. So, some of the figures are without heads, etc. But what is amazing to me is how delicate and descriptive the pictures are. (OK, the one I included to the right is not so delicate, but it is very descriptive!).

Last South African Adventure?

Anyway, this might have been our last adventure in South Africa --sad but true. We have one more trip planned, to Grahamstown for the National Arts Festival for 3 days before we catch our plan. So, I guess there is still more adventures to come. But nonetheless, this trip was very poingnant, as we all reflected on the amazing beauty and incredible history that we've seen and learned about during the past year. Quite astounding.

Blog ya later.

Seth./.

Democracy Malian-Style

Democracy in Africa
While I was in Mali, South Africa went to the polls and elected Jacob Zuma as president. This was a very interesting election, as for the first time there was a viable "African" alternative party to the ANC --The Congress of the People, or COPE. Until this election, the parties were pretty segregated, with the ANC collecting over 75% of the vote, mostly from Black africans, while the Democratic Alliance was the most dominant "opposition" party, with around 10% of the vote nationally, mostly from white voters. Well, while COPE was not overwhelming, they did take enough votes away from the ANC so that for the first time, the ANC does not have a 2/3 majority in congress. So, for the first time, there is a viable opposition in South African politics, which most folks seem to think is a very positive development.

Elections in Mali

Well, though I missed the South African elections, I was in Mali for the final two weeks of campaigning for their local elections. Mali has recently implemented a decentralization plan, giving more decision-making authority and budget control to local elected officials. So, these elections were a big deal, and there was campaigning going on everywhere. Banners with the party symbols (the bee, the ram, the star, the shaking hands, etc), people wearing T-shirts, and even full-on "grande boubous" with the party symbols and pictures of the local candidate.

Maria's husband Ibrahim was atively campaigning with the URD in Kati; and my friend Baba who is a high school teacher from Banamba, was on "the list" to become a councilmember with ADEMA in his home town. Every afternoon there was drumming and dancing, as one political party or the other would be out doing "la campagne." For each gig, you would have huge speakers blaring traditional music, rental chairs placed around a circle, and the obligatory shaded "famaw" or VIP seating area. Remember, 110 degrees! Then, little by little, the people would gather, and the dancing would start; usually featuring folks sporting the party colors (in this case, blue for PARENA). But, no Malian political campaign in Kati (a middle class suburb of the capital) would be complete without the obligatory plastic can full of ice water. This was all new for me. Having left Mali 22 years ago, in the days of the one-party military dictatorship, all this political campaigning was new. But, the ice water was also new. It was amazing watching these incredibly beautifully "bou-bou"'ed women meticulously unwrapping blocks of ice, and adding them to the big blue container. This ice water was then assiduously distributed to those who either danced their tushies off during the "warm-up," or the "famaw" (VIPs) who came up later on to give speeches of support. No doubt, most everyone getting the ice water at this event was wearing the blue/white of PARENA.

La Campagne Comes to Genguan
One of the most amazing "birth of democracy" scenes that I witnessed took place in Genguan (see the post of XXXXX). I had gone out with Sambou and 3 of his sons, to visit his family's farming hamlet, 30 kms on pretty ugly dirt roads. It took us about 90 minutes to get there, where we ended up spending an incredibly peaceful afternoon. Believe me, I doubt that they see one or two cars/trucks passing there a week. But on this day, not only did I show up with Sambou in our pick-up, but a couple hours later, we heard engine sounds in the distance. Sure enough, la campagne had arrived in Genguan. ADEMA (Association pour la DEmocracy MAlienne) had arrived!

Coming up from Bamako, I had brought my friend Baba, who is a high school teacher at one of the best schools in Bamako, and runs his own private school, Ecole Sirido Baba. He told me he was happy to come to Banamba with me, but little did I know that as soon as we arrrived, he was to be swept up by his political buddies, and off he sped in his pick-up for some unkown bougou (village). Baba's home town, Sirido, is not far from Sambou's homestead. So Baba (standing up in front of the truck wearing the sport coat), was an important man in the area. The families in the area all know Baba, and know that he is a person of integrity. So, if Baba supports ADEMA, then they will too!

When the truck pulled up, a ragged bunch of about 10 ADEMA campaigners got out, led by Baba. It was 2pm, and this was their 10th stop of the day, going from rural hamlet to hamlet, spreading the good ADEMA word. It was incredibly hot, and believe me, there was no ice water on this campaign stop! In fact, there was no electricity within probably 30 kms, so no chance for raucus campaign music either! After they piled out of the car, they came up respectfully to the "che koroba" (head of the family), greeted the family, and were offered food and water by the mamas. After a quick few handfulls of "toe" (millet poridge), they said thanks and shared some blessings for the family. Then, they went into their campaign spiel, telling the family of the benefits of voting for ADEMA.

It was all pretty straightforward, since Baba was the man with credibility, and Baba was with ADEMA. So, after listening to the perfunctory promises, the "che-koroba" eventually nodded his approval, and said that he would encourage all of his extended family members to support ADEMA. (And in this land of patriarchal authority, that means all the votes from the village were just locked up! I guess the "che-koroba" was the kind of person that the Democratic party would have called "a bundler.") The ADEMA folks then gave him one of their red&white posters, and asked him to put it up on the wall of his mud hut, just so that everyone who goes by (yes, ALL the traffic on the donkey-cart path between Tourourkoro and Genguan...) will know that they are an ADEMA bougou (village). The "che koroba" held the poster admiringly, handed it to his first wife, with pride, who also looked admiringly and proudly at the poster, and said, "we'll definitely put this up on our wall, so everyone can see that we are ADEMA-people!" At this point, Meme, the 8th grade son of the che- koroba, subtly came over to his mother and gently took the poster from her hands, turning it right-side-up, and then giving it back to her. Clearly, Meme was the only one of the twenty-some family members who could have noticed that everybody had been admiring the poster upside-down! Yes, the birth of democracy in a land of strong patriarchal authority, with a very low level of literacy, is a slow process indeed.

Election Day

Sunday April 26 was election day. I got to join the Diarra-Keita family in Kati on their trip to the voting station at the local elementary school. Everyone got dressed up, almost as if going to a social event. We first ran into Maria's son Sam, who proudly showed us his purple-dyed finger, sure sign that he had done his civic duty and voted. Then, at the voting station we found hundreds of people milling about, some having just voted, others about to vote, and still others making tea for the dozens of folks who were "witnesses" at each polling station. In each classroom there was one voting booth, where the voters hid themselves to mark the ballot. Then, in the center of the room was a plastic box, where the voter would put his ballot. And next to the box, with their eyes peeled, were a group of 6-8 people, all watching the ballot box to make sure that nothing fishy took place. It was quite an amazing site. No "hanging chad" problems. No electronic computer malfunctions to worry about. Just enough eyes on the box, making sure that each person only put one ballot in! (And oh yes, the all important "inker," who made sure that immediately after putting the box in the ballot, the person who have their finger inked! (Clearly, this was not like Chicago. No voting "early and often" here!).

Toward the end of the day, mini-bus taxi cabs were cruising all over the backstreets, picking up people who had yet to vote, and helping them get to the voting stations. Surely, these taxis are being paid for by the parties in power, a slight variation on the "vote early and often theme." the taxis kept buzzing till 6:05, when a loud siren went off, signifying that the voting period had officially ended. Later that evening, I saw a very strange parade of sorts in Kati. Each ballot box was being carried back to City Hall, surrounded by an entourage of a dozen "body guards" of sorts. It was a rather incredible sight to see: the future of Malian democracy in the hands of so many people...

And the Results are...
Well, it is now over 2 weeks since election day in Mali. And you probably didn't hear it on CNN, but, Ibrahim's party did not win in Kati. So, Ibrahim's dream of being mayor are put on hold for a few years. But, Baba's party ADEMA swept the region of Banamba, including all the tiny farming hamlets of Madina Sacko, Boron, and Touba. So, Baba is now officially a member of the "commun council," and will get to participate in the development decisions of the region. He was one proud guy! I gave him enough money to buy himself a new suit!

It was a pretty amazing event to see such a traditional society, with such low levels of technology, struggle with this thing called "democracy," and the principle of "one person, one vote." In a place of such strong traditional patriarchal authority, where not everyone feels like they are worthy of having an opinion about public affairs, this is an amazing transformation that is just beginning to take place. Quite the change from 22 years ago, when the ballot was either "yes" or "no" for the military party in power, and somehow, 99.8% of the votes cast were "YES." Democracy: the newest game in town!

Blog ya later.
Seth./.

Madu Diarra Brings Service Learning to Mali

Service Learning Training in Mali
As you might have noticed from the previous post, I have been in Mali for the past two weeks. I was lucky enough to have Fulbright and the US Embassy cover my costs to do some service learning training at the University of Bamako. This was a plan that my Malian big sister Maria Diarra and I had been working on for a while, as she is desperate to get the University involved with service learning so that they can send students to work with her "Read Learn Lead" project. (Check out Maria's organization's website for more info on the RLL Project, http://www.iep-kati.org/). So, with the embassy/Fulbright covering my airfare and a week's stay in the "Grande Hotel" in Bamako, and Maria covering all other costs, we put together the first service-learning training EVER in Mali.

We had 17 professors from the University of Bamako, 10 teachers and staff from Maria's organization Institut pour l'Education Populaire (IEP), two friends of mine who are language teachers at Peace Corps, and even two University students. We met for 4 days at the National Museum of Mali, where I did sessions on the history and theory of service learning, and then a couple days on curriculum development. Then, we went out into the field, and they had two days to actually try it out with real students and real community projects. Here's a picture of the participants, all wearing t-shirts from Maria's project that say "YES WE CAN" in 4 national languages.

The training was exhausting, as I did it in French (last time I worked in French was 22 years ago!), in a room that had shaky air-conditioning, in a country where the daily temperatures hovered around 110 degrees! Thank god for shaky air-conditioning. Amazingly, the participants were incredibly engaged. They came on-time every day, they stayed late (we were supposed to end around 3:00pm, but inevitably ended up going until 5:30 each day), and seemed really interested in trying this new approach to teaching. ACTIVE, ENGAGED LEARNING that gets students connected to REAL ISSUES that matter to their communities.

Believe me, this is VERY NEW, as most profs and teachers here in Mali have only ever experienced the stand and deliver approach to teaching through rote memorization. They were about as familiar with project-based, active, student-centred approaches to teaching and learning as they were with a snowball fight. Not to mention teaching about issues of social justice and social responsibility, and ideas like equity and student voice --heretical concepts in a very traditional society that gives a lot of respect to authority and seniority. Anyway, they really got into some of the simulations that we did, such as "Paper Chain," which recreates a very unequal and unfair social system, and were pretty intrigued by the "active" approach to learning. "What, learning can be fun and engaging?" (But, did you ever try this with 1,200 students in an overcrowded lecture hall on a 110 degree day in dusty Bamako?)

Well, after 4 days in the world of theory, it was incredibly refreshing to go out into the real world and actually do some service-learning. We had two "community schools" to work with. One was Maria's "Ecole Chiwara" in Kati, and the other was the school where the two students form the university had come from. This town was called "Soninkegny," and was about 45 minutes from Bamako. There are 40 graduates of the elementary school who are now at University in Bamako, and who have formed a group to do development projects in their home village. So, this was also the first chance to try some actual work in their home town.

We had three projects in each town. In one project, newly literate adults were trained to be "reading monitors" with 1st-3rd graders. The picture above shows one of the adult volunteers working with a group of 10 students. Imagine how different this looks than the usual scene, which is 120 students and 1 teacher! In the second project, the 9th graders were trained as "reading buddies" and partnered with the 3rd graders. It was so cool to see a room full of kids working on their reading; especially since it was in their own language, Bamanankan! The 9th graders then had a reflection activity around their own experience, having learned to read and write in French, and discussing the pros and cons of NOT being able to use your own language in school! At the end, the 9th graders decided they wanted to learn to read and write in Bamanankan, and so asked for a meeting with the director of the school! It turned out, that the School District Chair was visiting the school that day, along with the head of the PTA and the actual Mayor of the district. So, the students got a great opportunity to "speak truth to power," in their own language! It was a very powerful experience, both for the students and for the profs, who got to see the whole cycle of service-learning in action!

The third group worked on the issue of pesticides and herbicides with another 60 9th graders. The students discussed the dangers associated with using pesticides, and then went home and discussed the isues with their parents. Then, they came to class the next day with local seeds that they grow, the first step in creating a local seed bank to protect the bio-diversity of their ag production. It was also very inspiring to see the students be so expressive in what is usually a very teacher-centric classroom. They identified 30 different types of vegetables and plants that they grow for either food or income, and actually brought in 19 varieties for the start of the seed bank. Again, it was amazing for the profs to see what an animated, engaged classroom looks like. And, it was even more powerful for them to see how talkative the students can be, when they are dealing with subjects that reale to their lives --and when they can use their own langugage!

Next Steps?

I don't want to be too naive, and claim that we have transformed education in Mali. However, we definitely planted some seeds. Hopefully the profs will get a chance to actually develop some service learning projects with Maria's "Read Learn Lead" progarm, and they will start to see some results. On the other hand, given the level of dysfunctionality in the education system, especially in higher education, this could be the first and last service learning that happens in Mali. Afterall, with 1200 students in a classroom; with almost no books or materials; and with 110 degree heat with no A/C, it hard to imagine much happening in terms of "active, engaged learning." But, there were some inspired educators who emerged from the group. And I don't think anyone could have made this workshop more relevant and accessible that I did. We will see what Maria might be able to make happen to keep these seeds nurtured. All I know is that the US taxpayers got a whole lot from their $3,000 investment in Madu Diarra dong service learning in Mali!

Blog ya later.

Seth (dit "Madu Diarra")./.

A Peaceful Afternoon in Genguan

Have" mobili" will travel. Arriving in Banamba with Maria's LandCruiser was a great opportunity for Sambou and I to take a road trip. When Naomi and I and the kids were up in Banamba in December, we didn't have the time to visit Sambou's family in their "farming hamlet" called Touroukoro, 18 km from Banamba. So, this time, since we had all day and no other plans, we loaded up 3 of his sons (actually 2 sons and 1 nephew), and hit the road.

We headed north from Banamba on dirt donkey-cart roads, as Sambou and I reminisced about the many trips we made over 20 years ago on my motorcycle. We had some great times, including getting lost at night coming back from a baptism, and getting stuck in a rainy-season pond on our way to a wedding. This time though, we were riding in style in this cushy LandCruiser. It is hard to set the scene, because Sambou is the last person that anyone would expect to drive up in a LandCruiser. So, each stop was pretty memorable, as we were always greeted with lots of cheers of astonishment, and cries of "Sambou, is that you?" and, "Madu Diarra, i ni fama!" (Madu Diarra, it's been a long time!).

This time, our first stop was a small village called Sinzana, where we visited the family of Sambou's second wife, Hatmata. Then we kept driving toward Tourokoro. About 10 kms away, we saw a someone walking next to a someone riding on a horse, with two other horses in tow. It turns out that was Sambou's brother, Madi (in the picture below), so of course we stopped. He was walking to Banamba for the market on Monday, accompanying a more wealthy merchant, taking care of the horses along the way for some money. But, when we stopped, Madi was not going to turn down a ride in a LandCruiser, even if we were going the opposite direction (yes, we just came from Banamba, his destination). So, Madi jumped in the car, and said goodbye to his merchant friend --and his little commission!

When we got to Tourokoro, we got to greet Sambou's family: cousings, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews. It is very cool to see how the "Moores" greet each other. When a younger person greets an older person, he/she comes up to them and doesn't extend his/her hand, but rather gently leans toward the person, making a slight bowing motion. Then the elder takes his hand and puts in on the younger person's shoulder, all the while, asking "how are you? how is the family? How is mama and papa? etc." Very sweet. We had a great visit with Sambou's aunt in her hut. She's now blind, but she had lots of memories from twenty years ago, and kept talking about the time I slept over there for the baptism of the twins which were her grandchildren. Unfortunately, neither of the twins lived.

Sambou kept asking me if I could recognize how things had changed. And I had to say honestly, no. There are about the same number of houses, but they have moved around a bit. That's the nice thing about building out of mud bricks: if you want to move, you just pick a new spot and build a new house, and your old house eventually melts back into the ground.Madi stayed in Tourokoro and we headed further down the dirt track to "Genguan," another 12 km away, taking Sambou's cousin (who he called his "brother") Bakary with us. Genguan is actually the town where Sambou's family comes from, though his father and one other brother left Genguan and settled in Tourokoro. So Genguan is really the family homestead, and Beya, the last living brother of Sambou's father is considered the "village chief."

As we were about to arrive in Genguan, we saw a group of men and dogs scouring the bush. They were folks from Genguan, on a group hunt called a "fele." They try to flush-out small game (rabbits, antelope, quail etc.) from the bush, to take home for a nice Sunday brunch! It was so hot, and the brush so sparse, that it didn't look like much fun to me. Among the men on the "fele" was Beya, Sambou's uncle, who greeted us profusely, was so glad to see us because he really didn't feel like going out on the hunt! So, we were a perfect excuse for him to drop-out, and head back home. He then convinced us that we had to spend the day there with his family, and absolutely couldn't leave until after lunch. So, of course, we agreed.

What an afternoon we had. It was as if time had stood still for the past 800 years. We were treated like kings, as the straw prayer mats were brought outside under the "gua" or "sukka." The elders of the family all gathered, and we relaxed while eating peanuts while the elders threw the cowrie shells and did some fortune telling. Then, little by little, people just dozed off to sleep, including me. Then, after a couple of hours had passed lunch was brought. 3 bowls of milled porridge (known as "to"), with a nice hearty meat sauce which included the chicken and the guinea hen that were killed in our honor! After lunch, I watched as Bakary and Beya set up and then played a game of "M'Peri," which is something like checkers. What was so cool, is that it started by Beya asking one of his grandsons to bring him some sand, and then some dry twigs. The next thing I realize, they are creating the game board from the sand, and the game pieces from the twigs. Of course, the old man Beya beat Bakary 3 straight games in a row. I guess he is not Village Chief for nothing! Enjoy the video of Bakary and Beya playing M'Peri that follows, and just try to enjoy the simplicity of passing the day under the "gua" with us in Genguan.

Blog ya later.

Seth (aka, Madu)./.

A Day with "Baboon Matters"

Walking with Baboons

On Saturday, we spent the afternoon "walking with baboons." There is a group called "Baboon Matters," who lead tours that take you to a couple of the troupes of baboons that live in the hills around Cape Town (http://www.baboonmatters.org.za/). Baboons are seen by most South Africans as big pests. In fact, it is legal to shoot baboons in every province in South Africa except the Western Cape. Baboons are very smart, and have that most important evolutionary trait, "opposable thumbs." So, they've learned to open windows and doors, climb into people's houses, and raid the fridge (and garbage, and anything else that might smell like food). Just last week some "American tourists" had their care "baboon-napped." It turns out that they got out of their care to take some photos of the baboons along the road, and while they were photographing, the baboons got into their car, and started eating their picnic lunch! Needless to say, people who live on the outskirts of town have lots of baboon interaction, not all of it is positive. There is a long history of handling baboons through poisoning, and shooting. Baboon Matters is working to shift this, as they say, "sustainable solutions for managing baboons."

Well, "Baboon Matters" does two things. They train and support a crew of "baboon monitors" who walk with the baboons, and kind of herd them away from homes and settled areas. Not a perfet science, but an interesting attempt to try and facilitate more harmononious co-habitation. There are 3 monitors who work with each baboon troupe, 7 days a week, dawn till dusk. They are mostly young unemployed males from the local township, and for them, this is great work. Unfortunately, there seems to be constant struggles over funding, as neither the City of Cape Town, the Province, or the National Parks Service wants to take on the responsibility. The other service they provide is that they take people on tours, to walk with the baboons, learn about them, and hopefully, change their perspective. Naomi is a regular, now having gone out three times with them. We took Jamie on Saturday, along with Alex and her friend Nicole. We had a fabulous afternoon amongst a troupe of about 30 baboons of all shapes and sizes (including a baby who was only 2 weeks old). Our guide "Chris," knows most of them individually, and their histories and characteristics. So, you just hang-out, and he teaches you about the baboons, their behavior, and the issues they struggle with trying to co-habitate with an ever-expanding urban population. It was absolutely fascinating. Here is some of the video footage. Enjoy.


Blog ya later,

Seth./.

Bringing Rich Diversity to a Formerly "Coloured" Building

Last week was graduation at the University of the Western Cape, and I was invited to participate in the official "Oath Taking" for the new pharmacists. The Dean of the School of Pharmacy wanted me to come and be part of the procession, so they even found a black robe for me to where. There were 60 students who finished their studies last December, and now have been out in their hospital internships for 3 months. For some reason, they do graduation in March, which gives everyone a chance to get together as a class, probably for the last time.

Even though I didn't know the students well, I did have some contact with them through their service learning placements, and so it was nice to catch up and see how they were doing in their sites as "pharmacy interns."

But while seeing the students was nice, and wearing a robe felt special, the most amazing part of the experience was the setting. The "Oath Taking" ceremony took place in what is called the "Old Senate Building." So, of course, I asked, "Is this where the faculty senate meets?" And the answer was "yes." And so I asked, "why do they call it the 'Old Senate' building, if the current faculty senate meets there? Is there a 'New Senate' building?"

Well, this is where the answer got complicated, as perhaps it can only get in South Africa.

It turns out that in fact, this was the building that housed the "Coloured Senate" back during the period when the South African government passed its infamous "Tricameral Paliament" system. In an attempt to co-opt and co-erce the "coloured" and "Indian" minorities during the apartheid era, the government gave each of these groups their own legislature with limited law-making authority. In addition to the white "House of Assembly," they created a "Coloured House of Representatives" and an Indian "House of Delegates." (The Black Africans didn't have any authority over anything, and so there was no "Black Parliament.") Since UWC was the only "Coloured" university, the "Coloured House of Representatives" was housed in a new building that was built on the UWC campus! (As one of the profs said to me during the ceremony, this was not the brightest of ideas, as during the years that this Tricameral system existed -1983-1994- there was constant student protest and agitation in front of the building. As he said, "it was almost a constant riot.")

So, here we were in this historic apartheid-era building, watching 60-students take their oaths as new pharmacists. In what was formerly a "Coloured" building, this day the hall was filled with the rainbow nation that is South Africa: white students, "coloured" students, Indian students, and black students. And the upper benches were filled with proud parents and aunts and uncles of every color. I especially appreciated the black-African mothers, who "ululated" and danced and chanted the praises of their daughter/son as they came up to sign their oath. It was wonderful to see such rich, diverse life inside a building with such a narrow history.

Sorry I didn't have my camera with me, so no photos. Darn.

Blog ya later,

Seth./.

Cycle Tour 2009: 100 km in gale force winds!

"Toughest Cycle Tour EVER!"
That was the headline in the paper on Monday. But, we did it! 110 km in "gale force winds." Amazing, and not fun, but still, we did it. People were being blown off their bikes at the start, as wind would sweep through the buildings downtown, and then blast through the start line like a wind tunnel. And then, most of the ride was straight into the "south-easter wind," which meant constant work, even on the downhills, when we would be blasted by really dangerous cross-winds at random moments. Here is a picture of Naomi and our friend from Maine, Suzanne at the finish line --well-deserved smiles!

We saw Alex and Maya at the 10 km mark, and gave them a high five for the road! That was my highlight of the ride, as I was cruising up the hill, and passing everyone in front of me. Here's me on that climb...Unfortunately, when I got to the top of the hill, I looked around and couldn't find my riding partner Steve. So, I waited a few minutes, but still no Steve. Well, it turns out that his derailleur snapped off and went into his wheel just moments before I saw the girls, destroying his back wheel, and his ride. HOWEVER, as he was throwing a tantrum on the side of the road, a spectator came up and said, "is there anything I can do?" Well, Steve said, "I've got another bike at home..." And the guy said, "Come on, let's go!" So, he threw his bike into the guy's car, and the guy drove him home, waited while he changed out his pedals, and then took him back to the course, where Steve continued the race. What a great story! And Steve finished the reace 1 hour and 5 minutes after me! Here's a picture of Steve and his wife Jo celebrating after the race. Jo happens to be the leading marathon runner in the Western Cape!

But, not only did we make it, but so did Matt Damon, who rode a tandem with his brother, alongside South African rugby star from 1995, Francois Pienaar --who Damon is playing in the movie they are currently filming here in Cape Town. (By the way, Naomi and Jaimie saw Clint and the crew filming downtown today!)

So, check out these videos: the first is the summit of "Chappman's Peak, " the second to last climb, 85 km into the ride. The other is of Matt Damon finishing!

Well, it was quite the experience. Needless to say, we've not been on our bikes all week. But, I'm hoping to ride again this weekend. My time, well, my finishing time was 4:17:50. I was hoping for under 4 hours, but given the circumstances, I was happy. Here are my stats:


Time: 4:17:59
Overall Position: 6626/25799
Age Position: 668/2419
Group: Z
Group Position: 22/491
Avg Speed 25.58

OK, 6,626th is not a gold medal, but it sure feels like a victory...

Blog ya later.

Seth./.

Passionate, Progressive People, and yet...

Passionate, Progressive People, and yet...

It has been a few weeks since I've really written. So much has happened! South Africa beat the world champs Australia in criquet, in Australia --the first time the Aussies have lost on their home court in almost 20 years!

I've been thinking about writing this blog for some time now, ever since our trip to Kwa Zulu Natal. One of the amazing aspects of our trip, was that we spent two days with two very passionate guides, learning everything that they had to tell us about their passion. First it was Peter Koen, co-owner of "Extreme Nature Tours." http://www.extremenaturetours.co.za/index.htm, who shared his passion for nature and the environment with us on a 12-hour tour to the turtle sanctuary in Kozi Bay, near the Mozambique border. Then, it was Mike Nell, who was our guide to the Anglo-Zulu war battlefields of Islandwana and Rorke's Drift. These guys were both incredible. So knowledgable, and so passionate. It was a pleasure to be with them and to just soak up their energy and enthusiasm.

But in addition to just "knowing their stuff," both Peter and Mike had very progressive perspectives on their fields, and on the past, present and future of South Africa. Peter, the nature guide, speaks fluent Zulu, and our trip to the turtle sanctuary was actually led by a local guide from a village that is located right in the sanctuary. There is an eco-tourism program that trains local guides, and the money that they receive guiding turtle-watchers has become a significant piece of the village income. A nice eco-tourism program that really seemed to be working. Peter shared wonderful stories of how generous the people are, and how safe (a critical quality here in South Africa) the area is, and how welcoming the local community is.

Mike Nell, the battlefield historian, was also a fluent Zulu speaker. He grew up on a farm speaking Zulu with the children of the farm-hands, and had a deep appreciation for Zulu culture and history. As you might imagine, there has been a wide array of interpretations, and re-interpretations of South African history over the past few years. Of course, there is the old "party line," where everything that was seen to be good and virtuous was a result of the British/Dutch; and all things violent or corrupt were associated with the indigenous African population. The history of the Anglo-Zulu war that was taught in school significantly reflected those biases. Upstanding whites being savagely cheated by local Zulu kings, etc. As opposed to the other version of the story which shows how the British generals disobeyed their orders and attacked Zulu-land, so excited by the spirit of conquest! Mike Nell was able to share all the angles on the stories with such passion and interest, that an entire day touring old battlefields was totally exhilirating --even for Alex and Maya, who are not your typical battlefield history enthusiasts. (Though I must admit, that as we drove by other historic battlefields on our drive across Zulu-land, they happily declined my offers to stop and visit other sites...

However...

However, as progressive and multi-lingual as these two passionate, progressive guys were, there also seemed to be a limit to their ability to really understand the "other." On the long drive back to our hotel after visiting the turtles (it was 3 1/2 hours away, and we got home around 2:00 am), Peter was sharing his frustration with his Zulu colleagues, who he sees as not being able to really make it in today's modern world. He questioned their commitment to traditional values and responsibilities, which take away from their individual riches freedoms and tie them in more deeply to their extended families and community. For example, a Zulu colleague of his was pleading poverty, and didn't have money to build his own home; but, he had built a house for a dead uncle in his family's compound! Yes, his dead uncle. Zulus have a very strong ancestor worship culture, and it was absolutely critical for this young man to help the spirit of his dead uncle be well-housed, before he himself could build a home. As Peter said, with that kind of mentality, how can this country ever evolve!

I saw a similar limit arise in Mike Nell, who though very passionate about Zulu culture, also used phrases that represented Zulus as a different species of human: with very different priorities and ways of being in the world. And, that these ways truly clash with the values that "us white westerners" hold. These statements were so out of context with the other information that he shared, that they really took me by surprise.

So, this for me is the incredible task for South Africa: to reconcile western and non-western ways of being in the world, under one set of rules and regulations for the new "rainbow nation." It is going to be interesting to see how this plays out in the new election, scheduled for April 22. But, I'll talk about that in another blog.

(Sorry this took so long to post. The rest of the trip to Zulu-land was fabulous, including some amazing hiking in the Drakensberg mountains, some not-so-lucky trout fishing, snorkling in the Indian ocean, and seeing pods of Hippos in the largest estuary in Africa: Hluhluwe-Umfolozi National Park --a must see if you're ever in Zulu-land! http://www.game-reserve.com/south-africa_hluhluwe-umfolozi.html You'll just have to check out the pics that I've posted.)

Blog ya later.

Seth./.

A New Era Dawns...

Pre-Inaugural Tears A-Flowin'
The past few days have been a blur of emotion and exhilaration. Woww...where to begin.

We returned on Friday from Kwa-Zulu Natal (also known as KZN here in S.A.), after a fantastic 10 day trip. Saturday Naomi and I did a bike ride, and Sunday we both rode in the "Cape Cobra Bike Race." I did 85ks and 8 hills. It was brutal. Naomi did 45 ks, including the intimidating "au Kaapse Weg" --old Cape Road-- which climbs over the hills separating the bay-side from the atlantic side of the penninsula. Needless to say, we were exhausted.

Finally on Monday afternoon, I had some time to sit down and blog about our trip to KZN. But, I had heard there had been some kind of inauguration concert the previous night (yes, we were a bit out of it while in KZN), so I started to look on YouTube to see what I could find. The next thing I realize, four hous have passed, and I've been histerically sobbing watching various angles of the concert! Stevie Wonder, James Taylor, Garth Brookes. That's right, Garth Brookes even got me teary-eyed. But the clip that hit me the hardest was watching Pete Seeger and Bruce Springsteen sing "This Land is Your Land." And not jus the two verses, but all the verses including the lines of hungry folks at the churches! Pete Seeger's face, his enthusiasm, his encouragement to the crowd to join in and sing, just brought me to tears. Thinking how for his whole life, he has felt so marginal, on the fringes trying to "speak truth to power," and finally, here he was at the center of power in Washington DC with hundreds of thousands watching. He seemed so damn happy. Like a kindergardener with a new kazoo to blow!

Naomi and the girls had been out all afternoon, and when they came home my eyes were all red and bloodshot. I shared a few of the clips with them, trying to share the feeling. It wasn't as much fun feeling it all alone. Looking at the Lincoln Memorial, Alex said: "You can't believe how big that really is. It's huge. And his speech is right up behind him!" Clearly, her 8th grade trip to DC had planted some seeds, and it was great to see her connecting to a different kind of "Mall."

Inauguration Day
The inauguration started at 6:30 pm Cape Town time. We had invited a few South African and American families over to watch with us. Naomi insisted that we have everything prepared and ready by 5:00 pm. So, rather than doing the traditional South African braai, where you don't even light the fire until the guests come, and then spend hours (and numerous beers) tending the fire and chatting before putting on the meat, we did a more traditional American BBQ. In other words, I lit the fire at 2:30, had the meat on the grill by 3:30, and had everything on the table and ready to go by 4:30. Butterflied leg of lamb and b-b-q chicken, along with some very delicious salads.

The house was packed by the time the ceremony started, and so we got to feel a bit of the sense of being part of the crowd and part of the moment. The words and emotion totally transcended time and space, and the entire room was transfixed. It was awesome. I had ordered 100 of the "Yes We Did" commemorative stickers, so I handed them out to everyone who had come as a souvenir. It really felt like we too were making history.

I'll tell you all about KZN in an upcoming blog. In the meantime, let's still share in the glow of a new moment in time; transformation of the human spirit. Incredible! YES WE DID! YES WE WILL KEEP DOING!!

Blog ya later,
Seth./.

Seeing the "Colourful" Sites of Cape Town

Well, we're back from Mali and we've had two weeks to enjoy summer in Cape Town before our final trip of this summer break. (That's right, no moss is growing under these Pollacks' feet! Tomorrow we are off for 10 days to St. Lucia, Zululand, and the Drakensberg mountains...) But for the past two weeks, we've been in Cape Town, and have taken full advantage of the great summer weather to see all the tourist sites that we had not seen yet. Here are a few highlights.

Cape Point Lighthouse

Though we've biked past the entrance numerous times, we had never gone in to explore Cape Point National Park. This is the very southern end of the Cape peninsula, the spit of land that extends furtherst south and west in Africa. Historically, it has been called the Cape of Good Hope and the Cape of Storms. It's also the piece of land with the most shipwrecks anywhere in Africa, and there are dozens of wrecks all along this part of the coast.

While this area is known for incredibly high winds, the day we were there was gorgeous; a bit breezy, but really beautiful. We hiked up to the "old" lighthouse, which was so often covered in clouds that it did little good. It was replace in 1919 by a "new" lighthouse, which sits at the very tip of the peninsula.

We then capped-off the day with brunch at an old farm house just down the road from the national park. Ahhh...

New Year's Day Climb up Table Mountain

The most prominent feature of Cape Town is "Table Mountain." It rises 3,000 feet right out of downtown, and creates an incredible backdrop for the city. There is a tram that goes up to the top, and the one day we tried to ride it, it was closed for repairs. So, at 6:00 a.m. on New Year's day, we set out with a hiking club to make our first ascent to the top. We took the most direct root up, which is called Platterkloof Gorge. It is a 2 hour hike that zig-zags its way right up a narrow ravine to the top. Starting at 6:00, we were at the top by 8:00 --though Maya was with the fast group and made it up by 7:30, and Alex was close behind at 7:45. Once on the top of the table, we stopped for a bite, and to let all the stragglers catch up. From there we hiked another 45 minutes to McClear's Beacon, which is actually the highest point on Table Mountain. There, we had lunch, and climbed around on the pyramid that has been erected there. We had incredible views in all directions, and eventually hiked back around to the cable station at the top of the mountain.

Once at the cable station, we had an option to either take the cable car down, or... Well, Alex's knee was bothering her, so Naomi and her took the cable car. That left Maya and I to go back down the trail. While coming up was tiring, going down was downright painful! It is such a steep climb, that you are really working your knees and thigh muscles. By the time we were at the bottom, neither Maya nor I could hardly walk, as our muscles were just shot. It has taken a few days of major hot tub and sauvignon blanc therapy to get back to normal. We think we're almost there!

Minstrel Troupe Parade

Saturday January 3 was the day of the annual "Minstrel Parade." Historically, the day after new years day was the one day that the slaves in the Cape Town region had off! So, this has evolved into a huge party for the mixed-race descendants of these folks, known as the "Cape Coloureds." In seems that in the mid 1860s, the "minstrel show" made it from the U.S. to Cape Town, with musicians dressing up in "black face." Well, the locals adopted and adapted this "minstrel" get-up, and rather than putting on "black face," they paint their faces white, dress in outrageous outfits, and parade through downtown. Every neighborhood in the "coloured townships" has a minstrel troupe, and for the month of January, there will be music, dance, and marching competitions throughout the city. But January 3 is the one day when downtown Cape Town is taken over by the folks from the coloured townships, as they line the streets to cheer on the passing minstrel troupes in the parade.

While the outfits were incredibly colorful, and the dancing and prancing was full of life, two things really hit us watching the parade. First, this was the first time that we've seen so many of Cape Town's "coloured" minority out and about in downtown. You really got the sense that this was THEIR DAY! Second, we didn't bring any food because we were expecting to find all kinds of good parade junk food to be bought. You know, hot dogs, pretzels, snow cones, or their South African cousins. But amazingly, there was almost nothing for sale. We found one entrepreneurial guy who had set up a stand selling soft drinks. BUT, everyone was eating. It turns out, this is a major picnic event. Families cook food, and bring it all down to the parade route where the set up their tables, their tents, their chairs and cushions, and picnic. At first we couldn't figure out why no-body was selling food. Then we realized that people REALLY DON'T HAVE THE MONEY! Things are so tight for most South Africans, that rather than buying an overpriced grilled boerworst (local beef sausage) on the street, you'd rather make it at home yourself. Families really have to watch their pennies. So much for the parade-side junk food. (We did have a nice lunch at the cafe in the botanical gardens!).

So, What Color Are YOU Anyway?

As we were walking back to the car, we passed these two benches on the street. It took us a while to realize what was going on. If you can't read the writing, here is what they say:

"WHITES ONLY: From the Government Gazette registration of reclassifications, 1984: 518 Coloured persons were reclassified as White persons. 1 White person was reclassified as a Coloured person. "

"NON-WHITES ONLY: Edited from the Population Registration Act No 30 of 1950. A White person is in appearance White --and not Coloured. A Coloured is a person who is not a White or a Bantu."

It turns out, we were walking in front of the court house. And as another sign said, in an office inside this court house was the "Race Classification Board." This was the official administrative office where they determined what label you should have! (You see how ridiculous the criteria were!) As crazy as this sounds, this was reality from 1950 - 1991. The sign below helped us understand what we were seeing. It turns out that this was a "living history exhibit" created by the city. What a very fitting end to our day of watching "Coloured Cape Town" on parade!

Blog ya later,

Seth./.