The Bush!

While the last two months have allowed me to feel as though I am a true resident of South Africa due to a variety of experiences that have compelled me to develop an awareness of where I am and who I am surrounded by, I think that my safari experience this past week certainly offered the simple luxuries attached to being a tourist, to being a foreigner present to appreciate the aesthetic qualities of South Africa. I, along with the six friends from my program, spent four days detached from the rest of the world, left to enjoy our natural surroundings, the company of amazing animals (kind of like in The Lion King) and the illusion that we were roughing it in the African bush that one would expect to find on this continent. It was wonderful to take a break from the constant social analysis that I am forced to apply to my environment (while I clearly love that aspect of this experience so much it can get quite exhausting) and instead direct it toward a completely different one with different subjects to study.

Safaris are extremely beneficial experiences to have when trying to understand the world in which animals live. While one could see elephants and lions at a zoo nearby, observing animals in their natural habitat is a truly enlightening glimpse into their routines, relationships and general experiences. The majority of our trip was spent passively looking out into the same savannah scenery in an amazingly cool safari truck. We were responsible for finding the game on our own which were spread throughout the park often creating long time intervals between each sighting. Essentially we were forced to cater to the lives of these animals instead of being in a location where their natural practices are sacrificed for the entertainment of human beings. We were witnessing these animals in their most natural form and environment. As humans, we seemed to come second to these amazing creatures; searching for them became our focus, our goal. In adopting this as our mission we successfully found baboons, giraffes, ostriches, impalas, elephants, lions, warthogs (my new favorite animals in the whole wide word), terrapins (UMD!), wildabeasts, water buffalo, badgers, hyenas, jackels (I feel really cool that I can say I have seen a jackel), cool birds whose name I can’t remember, hippos and probably more. Watching most of these animals and simultaneously learning about so many of their characteristics from our amazing guide Dan was fascinating. Their mating patterns, physical build, herd structure, security systems, excretion practices, food intake etc. collectively constructed images of beings who are not as distant from humans as we think. All of these animals lead such complex lives which is something I don’t think I realized before.

To observe all of this in such an untouched environment added an immense amount to the experience. The surroundings were very redundant, grassy, tree-y plains. It seemed as though that was the way this area always looked, that no person had come to interrupt the natural course of things. It was so simple. While it was not aesthetically the most pleasing environment, its purity made it gorgeous. As the sun would set each day, rousing various color shifts in the sky, I felt as though this is the way the world looked when it was created and many of whom it was created for were these animals that continue to thrive in this area set aside not for humans, but for them.

In no experience was this all more clear than we went on a walk through the same surroundings we had only driven through up until that point and were sort of charged by a lion. Walking through the bush that is Kruger national park, we were face to face with a female lioness marking her territory. FYI: we were with two armed guides trained to deal with situations but who after our survival was confirmed admitted to only having experienced that once before…so don’t worry bubby. She did not run at us but walked towards us as if it was on her mind. Thankfully our guide communicated successfully with the lion and we survived one of the cooler things that has happened to me in my time. It was clear that she was simply protecting herself and the other lions with her. As humans, we had no ownership of where we were but completely submitted to the world of these incredible animals.

While the lioness was able to firmly stand her ground, many other animals seemed quite frightened of us, of human. Amidst all the wonder, it was clear that many of these animals live in fear of those who sit atop them in the food chain. It was extremely said to think that their first reaction to any interruption is to run away. The smaller animals such as zebras, impalas and kudu (cool word for antelope with awesome beards) are constantly being hunted by lions and as a result they must always be alert. It must be really sad to live ones life in fear. But while it is easy to be angry at the lions for causing it, they entered a world that automatically offered them protection yet forces them to be the enemy. While I doubt they possess the emotional capacity to understand their actions (hunting and killing all of the other animals) and the consequences, I recognized that it is not their fault; they have to survive as well. But it was quite interesting to observe a world in which hierarchy is inevitable and arguably necessary. Yet what i found most interesting and heartwarming was that there were so many moments when herds of zebras would interact with herds of impalas and wildabeasts in perfect harmony. Our guide told us that these communities are created among different types of animals as a means of protection since they all have common enemies and pose no threat to one another. It was incredible to see both the positive and negative characteristics so reminiscent of those of humans within these beings. While I could probably forge some connection to South African social and political history I am attempting to remain within the simple mindset I refuse to escape.

As we saw each animal our guide showed us different ways which they use the take full advantage of all the physical things the area around them has to offer. He would pick leaves of plants and tell us how these are used by the animals as toilet paper, he would bite the stalk of a different plant and reveal the soft bristles that could be used to clean the teeth of the animals, he pointed out a specific spot used by impalas to “drop their blessings” so as to provide nutrients for the plants from which they ate that rested in the same area. It was quite clear that the natural world in its untouched form provides its habitants with all of its necessities, that it simply works. I found this to be quite a spiritual realization.

I apologize for not providing scheduled details of our activities but for the most part we would travel around Kruger looking for animals during the day and at night we would head to our camp sites that were completely set up for us, tents fully equipped with bed frames and mattresses, with a gourmet cooked dinner waiting for us and bathrooms nearby…while the difficulties of “roughing it” were rather hard to handle, we survived.. just barely (um…I hope you all realize that I am kidding since it is clear that we were very far from roughing it). After a few nights of such filth, we were unexpectedly rewarded by a beautiful night cruise along the Drackensburg mountains (insert cliche mountain/sky/river/spirituality/god comments here) and accommodations at an incredible game lodge where we slept in triangular, bamboo huts with comfy beds and mosquito bedding that actually contributed to the elegance of the place. We again enjoyed a wonderfully tasty dinner and joked about the horrendous conditions of our “camping adventure.” After dinner, Dan, told us traditional African stories offering a very creative explanation of various physical characteristics of certain animals (such as the reason why hyenas hind legs are shorter than their front legs and why a certain African animal which I forget has a white tush). In African tradition, it seems that everything requires an explanation that allow each strange aberration to be significant. I was so fascinated by this; it elevated so many small seemingly insignificant things to the level of sacred and intertwined within culture and ritual.

The whole experience was a really amazing change of pace. I had a great time with the group of people I was with, I was able to fully separate myself from the emotional and physical exhaustion (though both good things) of my life in Cape Town and I developed a new appreciation for the complexity of a world in which I did not know it was present. One of the cooks from one of our camp sites, Godsave (that is his real name) would constantly say after each meal presentation: “Kill yourself…but don’t die.” While the statement seemed quite odd at the time I think I may have figured it out. While he was saying it in reference to eating as much food as possible without passing the threshold of death I suppose, I think what he was really saying was that you should consume as much as possible, challenge yourself as much as possible, live to the fullest..literally, but not to the point where you cannot gain from all of the consumption anymore. I feel like all of the experiences I have had so far in South Africa have definitely allowed me to capitalize on so much of what the world has to offer. But while being a tourist was quite nice and an identity that allowed me to continue to gain from the wonders of this world, I am quite excited to get back to being a Cape Townian and unraveling all of the layers that come along with that.

I think i may refrain from South African Ulpan because of all of the pictures that i believe will prvide you with a cool glimpse into Africa.

Cheers...Kill yourselves, but don't die!

Happy Holidays!

Suggestion: This is quite a long, but condensed post. Don’t be mad at me for it, (ahem…yoella), simply split up your readings so as not to feel obligated to or bored of reading the whole thing.

I hope every one had a wonderful Purim/Shabbat/Easter weekend. I had a really great experience in Sea Point at my official favorite shul in Cape Town, Beit Midrash Morasha (with the three rabbis and brachas [Kiddush] that would make me want to be Jewish if I were not already a member of the tribe). It took me quite some time to figure out my costume and I was quite proud of what I came up with even though time and resources were lacking…sadly though my efforts were not too appreciated. I was an American trying really hard to be South African: I wore a “Cape Town” hat and South Africa lanyard. I carried around my UCT orientation bag with a copy of Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, a popular travel book and malaria medication. On top of all of this I dressed in earth tones to reflect the foreign assumption that Africa is a bush that requires such soft, plain colors to avoid getting eaten by lions. Yet to counteract this fictitiousness, I made sure that all of my Cape Town touristy things were bright colors which was intended to mock the American misinformed conception of Africa. Yea, no one got it, which was sad, but I was proud of myself…that counts for something…right?

The celebration at shul was amazing. The megillah was read by one of the rabbis complete with inserted voices and sound effects. The food at the meal was quite delicious and the festivities that followed once again proved the innovation and care that continue to emerge within this community. The rabbis, the community bachurim and the b’nei akiva youth group leaders all put on very cute skits that clearly required a great deal of time and creativity. The gathering of the community was the largest collection of Cape Town Jews that I have experienced so far. It was quite inspiring to see such an eclectic group of people (augmented by the fact that they were all in costume) who practice and experience their Judaism quite differently unite to celebrate a holiday that is so complex and can appeal to anyone because of the various fun, communal customs that also yield deeper meaning.

I have heard a lot of ideas relating to Purim recently that have added many new dimensions to my understanding of the holiday. One that I believe will escape from the depths of my brain and reintroduce itself to me each year comes from the Friday night sermon given by the shul Rabbi (though my interpretation of his words may be a little off). He started off speaking about the linguistic connection between Purim and Yom Kippur (Yom Haki-purrim). He discussed the seriousness of Yom Kippur and how we depart from our humanity for the day to ask for forgiveness by speaking so personally with God. In order to reach this level, this status that is supposed to emulate that of angels, we must refrain from a variety of normal, physical, human actions on Yom Kippur (such as eating, drinking, using soaps and sprays, wearing leather etc.). He then discussed that Purim seems to be quite the opposite. The day is a celebration of our survival as a Jewish people and the miracles that God has done for us. In order to rejoice we are supposed to fulfill a bunch of mitsvot associated with Purim (eating a good meal, drinking alcohol, giving mishloach manot and tzedakah etc.) that are all physical actions through which we can derive pleasure. It seems strange that these two holidays would have such similar names, one is so rooted in the spiritual while the other is so clearly physical...where is the connection?

I thought the answer to this question was quite beautiful. From what I understood though I might be filling in some of the blanks myself, he said that on Yom Kippur, our existence as physical beings is not quite prepared to be the agent through which our true selves emerge. We must first completely acknowledge our faults, our wrong doings through the spiritual outlet of repentance before we can fully express our best selves in a physical way. Once we have allowed this understanding of our identities to sit, to marinate inside of us, we are then ready to demonstrate our positive qualities through physical actions. This shift of positive, human expression, from spiritual to physical, takes place on Purim. We eat, we drink and are merry and we do so with members of our family and community. The obligatory seudah is an event that combines giving and taking. The giving continues with m’shloach manot and matanot levyonim. We use obligations that require physical actions as a way to elevate ourselves, reveal who we truly are on a spiritual level through physical practice. Purim is the fusion of the spiritual and physical self and ultimately facilitates the process through which we become our best selves.

The idea of giving being the core of who we are was strengthened by another experience I had over Shabbat. I started the newest book on my “get to know South Africa” reading list, Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s “No Future without Forgiveness.” The book discusses the development and findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission which was established by Nelson Mandela upon becoming president as a government sponsored initiative to come to terms with the unspeakable atrocities and sentiment of South Africa’s past. Tutu who just retired as Archbishop at the time was appointed as the leader of the program in 1996. The commission was the spawn of a tricky debate regarding how to confront the past of a broken, dehumanized people. The process was complicated by the reality of oppressor and oppressed still needing to live among one another. South Africa’s transition to democracy was not a victory for the marginalized majority, it was a product of frustrating negotiation that failed to produce a full awareness of the apartheid system’s lasting, horrific impact, that failed to create a set plan for how to have the logistical reality mirror the new, non-prejudice constitution. So how does one place such horror in the archives of a country’s history?

Instead of engaging in long, expensive trials of the perpetrators such as the case was in Germany after the Holocaust and instead of simply moving forward and letting bygones be bygones, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was created. The objective of the commission was to offer amnesty to perpetrators of violence and criminal acts in exchange for their stories, their details, their accepted responsibility. Stories of victims were also collected by the commission in order to provide those who suffered with a voice that was silenced for so long, voices that those who were oppressed did not even know they had. The purpose of the commission was not to paint individuals as the primary enemy, but rather paint the apartheid system as the beast, expose the awful legislation and institutions of the racist regime that birthed such hateful individuals as the true opponent. In order for each person to be pardoned of their crimes, their narratives needed to fit within many criteria that were created so as not to grant amnesty to those whose motivation for committing such crimes was beyond the fulfillment of a commanded task. Pinpointing an entire way of thinking and putting that on trial seemed much more constructive in preventing such terror and dehumanization from occurring again. Many criticized this process because they did not believe that it granted justice to the countless victims of such a terrible regime or hold the latter fully accountable.

Tutu responds to this critique by discussing two different kinds of justice. He first mentions retributive justice, in which the primary objective is to be “punitive” and retaliatory. This type of justice was arguably not placed at the forefront of the initiatives of the commission. Yet Tutu says that this is accomplished by placing the blame on the state and understanding the wrongs of an entire system and dismantling not only the physical institutions but the ideological remnants as well. The second form of justice that he discusses is restorative justice in which “the central concern is the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships, a seeking to rehabilitate both the victim and the perpetrator, who should be given the opportunity to integrate into the community he has injured by his offense” (54-55) The driving concept behind this form of justice is ubuntu. To quote the book again to show you the true beauty and inspiration of the author’s words, Tutu describes ubuntu by saying:

“It speaks to the very essence of being human.... You are generous, you are hospitable, you are friendly and caring and compassionate. You share what you have. It is to say ‘my humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours.’ We belong in a bundle of life. We say ‘a person is a person through other persons.’ It is not ‘I think therefore I am.’ It says rather: ‘I am human because I belong. I participate, I share.’ A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they were less than who they are.” (32)

I cannot express how in awe I am of this man, of this idea (really, I want to name my child ubuntu or something…ok maybe a middle name, or a pet fish). Understanding humans as intrinsically linked to one another, as beings that must confirm their humanity through kind and positive interaction is a complete reversal of all that apartheid attempted to accomplish. While the Nationalist government did everything they could to strip all non-whites of their dignity and humanity, in the end, it is them who were devoid of this. It was the selfish, cruel inhumanity that ideologically elevated those who mobilized around and fought injustice, who were able to rise above the evils of the world and be what a human is expected to be. In seeking justice this same level of giving seems to have applied according to the revolutionary, remarkable standards set by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Giving, whether in the form of an extra piece of bread or forgiveness is what grants someone their humanity which is especially valuable when one has had it beaten into them that they do not possess any. (Unfortunately I cannot yet go into too much about the Commissions actions since I am only on page 56, but I am sure I will have much more to say about Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s spectacularly inspiring and spiritual understanding of reconciliation through the prism of truth, of responsibility and of giving.)

Continuing on the theme of giving, I once again had a wonderful Shabbat in the Cape Town Jewish community that continues to expose me to people’s constant generosity. I along with four other friends stayed at the house of one of the four. It felt really natural to have a fun, friendly sleepover…in Cape Town. Sadly there were no pillow fights but it made me realize how warmly I have been taken into the community; not only have I been invited from place to place but I have really started to develop personal relationships with people inside of it which I am so thankful for. Then on Friday night, three of us went to the house of the official Rabbi of the shul who has given most of the sermons I have quoted on this blog including the one I have already mentioned. (I have to tell you I am such a fan of this man and is whole family. One of his three kids is a six year old boy who sings Anim Z’mirot to a really elaborate tune and like studies Talmud.) Anyway, dinner was really interesting especially because one of the guests was the American presidential administration’s appointed special envoy to monitor and combat anti-Semitism (yea now try to repeat that) who is currently visiting South Africa and I am guessing trying to monitor and combat anti-Semitism here. The position was created in 2004 (he was sworn in by Condoleezza Rice) and he is the first person to occupy it. He told us how his job consists of visiting various countries and trying to gauge the status of Jewish sentiment there. He visits places that both have Jewish populations and some that do not have any. He discussed various experiences in Yemen, Australia, Saudi Arabia etc. It was really amazing to hear him speak about all that he does because he probably is the only person on the earth to have access to so much knowledge regarding various Jewish communities and mentalities relating to Jews within the context of a vast base of international political knowledge.

Putting politics aside, there was so much to be gained from what he said, from what he does. To know that there is an office in the U.S. government devoted to understanding the status of sentiment regarding Jewish people around the world is comforting in a way. At the same time it was hard to understand how one can quantify anti-Semitism in meetings with various higher ups in different countries around the world. How do these conversations play a role in changing ingrained mentality, ingrained hatred that does not stand on its own? Anti-Semitism is an institution that is specific in its victims, but universal in its ideological foundation. It is hate, it is disrespect, it is the denial of entitlement to personal belief; it is the same foundation that has produced systems like apartheid and continues to manifest itself in the glaring inequalities of this country. It is intertwined with every other anti, ever other prejudice, so how does one monitor and combat hate when it is often more present in humans than the ubuntu Desmond Tutu so fantastically defined? While I am really intrigued at the existence of this man’s position, it is difficult for me to understand what can actually be brought about by what seems to me to be gaining awareness of isolated presences of anti-Semitism? I do not phrase this question in a way that demands the answer of nothing. Rather I truly have no idea what the answer is (this might have a lot to do with the fact that I clearly do not have full grasp on what this new office does which I hope to research). I suppose there is some connection here begging to be made between this office and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission but the trouble is that there is no end in the case of Anti-Semitism, no transformation that can offer the discoveries a new context in which to be useful. There is a huge difference between institutionalized oppression and ideological oppression and the latter is clearly not cured by disabling the former, but it is a starting point. But what is the starting point when the motivation to create this new office in the U.S. government is the result of a worsening wound and not the beginnings of a healing process? Could this potentially give way to such a thing? I was both comforted and discomforted by this experience, mostly I am now rather confused. If you have any thoughts please share!

On a different note, I am officially on fall break, no not spring break, fall break. So starting tomorrow I will be on a safari in the world famous Kruger National Park hanging out with lions and giraffes and sleeping under the stars. I suppose my earth tones would come in handy there. Anyway hopefully when I get back on Friday I will have lots of fun stories to tell you and pretty pictures to share from my adventures in Kruger.

Congratulations you deserve a really awesome South African Ulpan after all of this:

Joll – noun- pronounced joel (as in billy joel) – origin: Afrikaans - a party

After the Philadelphia Eagles win the Super Bowl in 2009, there is going to be a huge joll throughout the entire city…oh and Cherry Hill New Jersey too since they are devoid of their own culture.

Cheers!

Drop a beat yo!

Yo! So over the past couple of weeks a few friends and I have been really into writing raps about random topics (I have also learned to beat box a tiny bit). So I wanted to share a few that I have written with all of you. Funny story: tomorrow there is a rap contest on campus and my friends are going to be using the first rap for it, I sadly cannot join because its purim…ok DROP A BEAT!!

RACE:

To be white in Africa is somewhat of a crime
Cant identify with oppression and stuck in this bind

We have stolen resources, occupied others’ land
We have adjusted to privilege and have blood on our hands

Tack on being American to this tarnished existence
And there aint no way to be part of the resistance

So what should we do when consumed by guilt
And cant contribute to the revolutions others have built

Steve Biko says we have a place in this fight
Convincing those with like skin of the human plight

So we must stay on the outside to earn our place
Solidarity conquered by the color of my face

But see white and black are not true classifications
Just terms used to separate artificial nations

Construction and resources create this divide
Leading to an unequal distribution of pride

But as much as I care I just can’t relate
Because my skin has never been the object of hate

My sympathy will only last as I am looking down
As a white privileged American abroad in Cape Town

FAVORITE FOOD:

Steak is so tasty I could eat it all the time
Mm in any form, pepper, filet, rib or even prime

Its juicy succulence makes me overflow with joy
Uch whats wrong with vegetarians they cant get this satisfaction from soy

If people could be satiated by such simple things
Perhaps there would not be awful dictators and recalcitrant kings

Then the world would be a better place
People could live without fear because of such a heavenly taste

I guess it doesn’t matter much when I think about it now
Since no matter what your killing lots of cows

But the wonders of the world such as a the perfect cut
Could save so many from the proverbial doors closing shut

If we focus on simplicity and don’t salivate over power
The world could stop being thorny and bloom into a beautiful flower

SOMETHING RANDOM THAT COMES TO MIND:

Remember the days when feminism was cool
When Lilith fair rocked with Sarah McLaughlin and Jewel

Haters say important issues are now old news
Since some people recognize a woman’s right to choose

The same people say feminism has run its course
Now its just angry lesbians using unnecessary force

The wage gap isn’t the only remnant of this fate
What about countless unstable emotional states

We ignore the issues and disguise them as norms
So girls hurt themselves to perfect their forms

What about in countries where agency isn’t an option
And they say god said so to mask the corruption

You see equality isn’t the same as being the same
Think about that when you see a woman sexualized and defamed

Its so much more than a mans dollar to a woman's seventy cents
Its about quality of life are you really that dense

Feminism is more than a societal irritation
Its about unequal access to resources for marginalized populations

So lets stop classifying woman as the other
Open your eyes to the truth and oh yea word to your mother.

Gosh add this to African Dance and I think I could be a triple threat…umm not really. Anyway, so things here have been going quite smoothly. I climbed another mountain on Sunday. I know you have all been so sad that no mountains have been discussed recently so I made sure to let you know that they continue to be a constant in my life in Cape Town.

So I have discovered yet another interesting connection between my archaeology class and my poverty development and globalization class. While societies of the African past are looked down upon and classified as backward and primitive, they were completely self-sustained communities. While there were distinct separations between the upper and lower classes, every person had access to the resources they needed within the confines of their own homestead. When this was not the case, the wealthy were relied upon to provide what was necessary to those who were not as wealthy. In the Westernized world that is constantly patting itself on the back while simultaneously criticizing countries that have not adopted the same system and feel the need to colonize and shed light upon the darkness, this is not so. Globalization has made every country dependant upon others and has segmented every industry. Subsequently, no society has full control over its own fate. Yes, some countries place themselves in better positions within the global commodity chains that determine the winners, potential winners and losers within the world market, but no country’s place is safe. Changes in every country impact the process of production since for example cotton is picked in one country, then sent to another country to be used to make a shirt and the shirt is then sold somewhere else. If social upheaval, economic decline, an oil crisis or a military coup occur in any of the aforementioned countries, the entire process suffers. Not only is this system very unstable but it also creates very defined categories of those who benefit and those who suffer. The rich management folk make money and the working class is exploited and provided with unlivable conditions and wages. One significant downfall of the economic development of a country is that it ultimately helps those that don’t need it and does so at the expense of members of the lower echelons of society who are given little opportunity to work their way up.

As I say this, I know that I am one of the benefactors of this system. I know that I can complain as much as I want about capitalism but in the end, it is exactly what has given me the opportunity to pursue the education that has led me to this conclusion. So once again, I am ranting about a plight that is not mine, and I am only doing so from a distance. But even so, I think it is clearly impressive that the dependency that our capitalist culture necessitates is vacant from the African culture I previously mentioned.

Oh and of course Shabbat. It was quite fun to bring friends from my program with us to Milnerton. However I must say that when you have to explain a religious service that can be interpreted as patriarchal by those who have never experienced it before (and those who have as well I guess), it makes you more conscious about what can be interpreted as strange or dare I say oppressive within an environment that has become so commonplace. To explain a mechitza and the women standing in place while the men dance around the bimah is quite difficult to do in a way that does not make orthodox ritual sound anti-women. While I have not thought about my issues with gender within Orthodoxy so much, on Friday night I think that they surfaced. I know that many women are fully capable of being inspired within an orthodox service and ever since I have come to Cape Town, I would put myself in that category. But being cut off from the activity within the service forces me to approach prayer from a very individual perspective and while I can value that it might seem difficult to do if you are not used to the service and don’t know how it inspires you.

Jumping around to yet another topic, in my Liberation in Southern Africa class, we had yet another speaker directly involved with the struggle come to speak. I was in the presence of Dennis Goldberg, a white member of the South African communist party (Jewish too…yay) who was the weapons maker for the MK, the (unofficial) armed wing of the ANC, who was arrested along with other famous members of the ANC like Walter Sisulu and Ahmed Kathrada, who was tried in the Rivonia Trial in 1963 along with Nelson Mandela and many others for attempting to overthrow the state and who served 22 years in prison as a result of his involvement with the struggle. To hear a white man speak about all that he has done in such a humble manner was astounding. None of these men believe that their actions were extraordinary but rather action based upon an obligation to better the world. While this tone has been present both in Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and in the previous talk I have written about given by Neville Alexander, to hear this humility, this natural concern and desire from a person who could have easily avoided the same responsibility and the same danger by simply staying outside of the organizations of which he was a part, was remarkable and riveting. Throughout his whole talk, he cracked jokes, he was extremely gentile in his demeanor, he was none of the things a person would expect of someone who was imprisoned for multiple decades and placed in a situation that would strip most of their dignity and their passion for the causes that placed them there. If I was physically capable of crying, I might have done so as I was listening to this man’s words.

South African Ulpan:

Buckey – noun – buck-ee – a pick up truck

In order to defy societal gender norms, Gretchen, an ardent feminist, purchased a buckey when she was in need of a new automobile.

Happy Purim!!!! (details of my purim activities will be included in the next post)

Two Kinds of Luck...

Hello all!! So today for the first time I wore a sweater and it made me a little sad. Before you get mad at me for making a reference to amazing sunny, warm, wonderful weather, I am going to move on….This past week has been action packed. On Monday I officially switched from the computer literacy project to a math/English tutoring program for sixth graders in the in the same place, Khayalitcha. (sorry I spell it different every time but I figure you all know what I mean). Interestingly, it is practically the same program as the one I am involved with on Thursday is Kensington but in a township. As a result, I can really compare the two experiences to each other and understand the differences between the two communities. From Monday’s events, it is clear to me that while neither community receives an adequate amount of resources, townships must deal with the unique and frustrating problem; a horrendous teacher:student ratio. In one classroom filled with three sections of the sixth grade, I was presented with a class of 15 sixth graders. The physical makeup of our area was a thin vertical line of desks that prevented half the class from being able to hear what I was saying, the presence of two other classes in the same room did not make the situation any easier. Overwhelmed by a sporadic curriculum that required these kids to complete long-division, patterns, exponents, rounding (and an English section we did not even touch) in one lesson and the glaring reality that a few kids were capable of doing all of the math while some were completely lost was a terribly enlightening glance into the world of poverty, discrimination and unreached potential. I put forth as much effort as I could possible exert to both teach and initiate relationships with these kids, I sweat so much running from group to group trying to help them with the presented problems and yet there was no possible way that these kids would have access to the assistance and information they needed…and this is a selective after school program. I cannot even imagine how the schools in the townships function.

I am a privileged, study-abroad student eager to learn about the world around me and to volunteer for a few hours a week in impoverished areas is a significant part of my experience. How does someone who has been teaching in the flawed educational system for 7 years, who has witnessed a huge percentage of her students drop out to pursue elusive employment, crime, or simply does not see the point to attending , who has to deal with a massive spectrum of knowledge among the remaining students, who will never have enough materials to offer, how does that person teach in these circumstances every day? I cannot imagine. I really cannot fathom the amount of persistence, strength and hope that such a position requires. Most likely, there is a great deal of anger and despondency among the teachers as a result of such impossible conditions that creates yet one more obstacle within the educational system.

Recently, my attention has been directed toward the sad reality that even if a person brought up in such a situation is able to do what is expected of them and follow a path that is arguably deemed good, what do they achieve as a result? There are so few opportunities available to these kids to do anything with an education, if they are even capable of finishing all of the requirements. There is more incentive to get involved in crime or drugs than to complete high school. Add this to the ever-present danger of simply surviving the dangers of township life and what hope is there? What chance does anyone have to escape when there are millions upon millions more exactly like them?

I bet this description is rather generic and could accurately be attached to countless other communities, societies or groups throughout the world. This is probably the reality of a lot of areas in Philadelphia. So I suppose that the inequalities about which I wrote in my last post are clearly not unique to South Africa. Perhaps I could only realize this in a foreign location, in a place where I did not drive by poor, urban areas on the way to school every single morning and simply allowed it to fade into the background. Perhaps as a human being, and one who has lived in American for my entire life, I have the responsibility to acknowledge the issues that arise wherever I am and I have to avoid the desensitization that I now have to poverty in the U.S.. But how? How can I, a person who is lucky enough to never actually experience this, who is lucky enough to not have to worry about such basic needs and as a result can acknowledge those who do, do anything constructive in the attempts to change a virtually unchangeable world that will continue to favor me and provide me with the things I need? I guess in the end, all I can really do is become aware of these issues; not just those surrounding the victims of unequal distribution but those related to my undeserved status as someone who benefits from the system, as someone who is consuming the resources denied to those who need them most. I continue to have experiences that reveal how lucky I am, but now that I have realized all of the above, it is clear to me that my luck comes at the expense of so many others. It does not even seem like luck anymore but rather theft, theft of what should not belong to me. Yet I can never help in breaking down this system, because I will continue to say these things from a privileged seat in the hierarchy of the world. My empathy will only last as long as I am looking down at it from a distance. Steve Biko, you were completely and utterly correct.

Moving on to another privilege in life that I am not entitled to, I had an interesting revelation this week about my Judaism. I have realized that because I grew up in an Orthodox community (albeit in a unique way) and experienced that lifestyle my whole life and for a good chunk of my college experience, I have built a strong network within this community. Since I have recently stepped outside of this framework, I have noticed that I still have access to this same network without having to completely commit to the Orthodox system. Yet it is this shared adherence that acts as the foundation for creating connections within the community. Subsequently, in a sense, I feel like I have cheated because a significant benefit associated with orthodox communities is the wonderful network (not to minimize the importance of halacha and practice at all by the way) and I can still be a part of that without actually conforming to the orthodox system. So I feel like if I did not have the upbringing that I did, I might feel more compelled to remain within the Orthodox system with those ulterior motives; to have access to this network of people and sense of community. It makes me feel a little guilty that I get to be a part of orthodox communities without conforming to their standards of practice…I know that sounds strange, but it almost seems to me like to be a part of a community you often have to make personal sacrifices and somehow I managed to not have to do so. At the same time I feel weird saying this because I know that communities should accommodate difference in practice and belief and sometimes this is the case but I don’t think in many practical cases this is so. I was thinking about this in the framework of realizing how easy it is to be a part of the South African Orthodox community without having to adhere to certain things which, to me, seems almost necessary in America (i.e. driving to shul, eating out, not fully hold fast to the halachic process etc). So you might say you can still be a part of the orthodox community without fully adhering to the system but it seems to me that in America if you choose to be traditionally conservative, egalitarian or whatever it is that I may be (which I don’t think either of these terms actually describe) you do commit yourself to a different grouping through the practices you chose to uphold (i.e. going to a conservative shul). Anyway in the end I don’t feel bad about this but rather lucky (the good kind of lucky that does not come ant anyone else’s expense) that I get to have such diverse first-hand exposure to Jewish communities.

Speaking of Jewish communities, in about an hour and a half I will be traveling once again to Milnerton for Shabbat (that is the place that always has lots of people for Shabbat and a garage converted into a shul on their property) with about 15 other Americans, some from my own program, and a few other random abroad students. It should be a really interesting experience since most of them have never had a Jewish experience. I am quite pumped!!! I hope everyone there is ready for the American invasion!

South African (culture) Ulpan:

The mini taxi – the mini taxi is a staple in the culture of Cape Town. Along each major area there, these rickety vans that have a magical capacity to fit as many as 46 people (though only the size of a mini-van, ok 46 is an exaggeration but you would not believe the amount of people that can fit into these things) at a time. The taxis proceed to drive straight up and down the main roads of these areas heading into the city center and other popular destinations. As they search for new customers, the ones already present asked to be dropped off at various locations along the road. In order to attract these new customers, the drivers proceed to constantly hock their horns at various passer-bys as the second taxi worker shouts unintelligibly the name of their route. Often the taxi comes to a sudden stop as the second taxi man runs three blocks away and magically returns with five more people who he convinced to go to whatever the destination may be. One may travel both near and far distances for only 4 or 5 rand which is the less than 75 cents.

Cheers!

Both E Fishmans..this ones for you!

Shavua Tov! So far my one of the most exciting souvenirs that I may be bringing back with me to America is rhythm. This past Tuesday in the African Dance class that I am attending for fun, both the old and new dances were especially difficult to master which made me feel rather dejected and incapable. The worst part was that the class is very social which is quite nice but then in my mind it creates this sense of superiority among the people who are functional members of this microcosm of the world (aka the class) and those who are inferior bottom feeders devoid of any rhythm and thus purpose (aka me.. yea I know I am being dramatic, but hey I was in a pay last semester). So the next day, me and the three friends who I am taking the class with, determined to work our way up the social ladder, devoted two and half hours to practicing and perfecting the dances. Sure enough, when we had class once again on Thursday, we were awesome (at least awesome enough to blend in with those who sit atop the class hierarchy) and for the first time I felt as though I felt the steps instead of counting them; we were all so happy afterwards, the accomplishment was even physically present in the soarness of our bodies. While being in this class is miles away from my comfort zone (or should I say meters? Uch Americacentrism.. down with the isolating system of measurement that is untranslatable in the rest of the world), I am really proud of myself for taking on (or at least trying to) a new skill, for entering a new world and allowing the uncomfortable to become comfortable.

So this past Shabbat was wonderful. I ended up going on Bnei Akiva shabbaton in this beautiful beach town with a small Jewish community called Camps Bay. It happens to be right on the beach and is one of the most expensive areas in all of Cape Town. About 30 middle-school/high school aged kids and a bunch of madrichim counselors)..oh and two random Americans, slept in this gorgeous school that is attached to the community shul. The school, which I think is the only elementary school for “frum” kids, has around 60 students from nursery school to 6^th grade. There are around six kids in each class and the school itself is beautiful and in the most amazing location (there is clear view of the ocean). Cape Town Jewry continues to simultaneously baffle, amaze and make me overcome with joy. I have no idea how this property fell into the hands of the Jews of Camps Bay, but it was really spectacular. The Shabbaton itself was quite fun. I felt rather old since the people in charge were my age which for some reason I found strange. Singing the official song of Bnei Akiva, Yad Achim (which I was surprisingly capable of after not having sung it in 7 years), roused memories of my brief time spent in the youth group. While it was at times overwhelming, it was nice to spend Shabbat amidst younger people taking the initiate to revive the community since most of the attempts I have come across thus far have been those of adults. The necessity to constantly inspire seems to be a present force in multiple generations of this unique community. It was beautiful.

On Friday night, both Rabbis of the shul discussed the tragic terrorist attack that took place at Mircaz Harav in Jerusalem on Thursday night. There heavy, emotional words forced me to think about the event much more than I had when I initially heard of the attack. For me, the painful emotions sparked by terrorist attacks that take place in Israel feel very personal because, as a Jew, I feel connected to the people, the history, the land and the home that it represents. When that connection is threatened by acts of hatred, I feel as though this place that acts as a home (temporary as well as permanent) for so many Jews does not seem as safe as a home should. But attacking a yeshiva with hate hits a deeper part of our hearts. Regardless of what you practice or believe, if you feel connected to the Torah in some way and allow it to govern your life in some sense, your way of life was attacked on Thursday night. And as one of the Rabbis said, the very thing that so many Jews perceive as their shield in the world, learning Torah, was the setting of this devastation, of this cruelty. There was something different about this one. There is a pain that travels below where previous ones have landed.

Thinking about this reminded me of an interesting challenge that was posed to me after my last post. So upon special request, I have decided to somehow clarify the connections that I previously hinted to that I have to Israel, South Africa and America. As it was brought to my attention, issues that I have constantly been discussing exist in South Africa are clearly present in the other two (though they clearly materialize in different ways and this is in no way a comparison but rather a collection of related ideas).

Keep in mind the rest of this post is one big I-statement….Specifically, the racial segregation that I constantly return to that exists in South Africa is also something that is present in the U.S.. The difference is that in America, while we all have access to different resources and opportunities, we are all a part of the same system, the same culture that cultivates similar goals of success and financial stability. In South Africa, different groups of people do not seem to all function within the same framework and do not seem to strive for all of the same goals. For more than four decades (and unofficially for centuries), the fate of people with skin that was not white was determined for them by an oppressive, manipulative regime that subtly and at times more conspicuously dismantled the humanity, the agency, of a disproportionate majority of the population of South Africa. The Nationalist government classified the way of life of Africans as primitive, unworthy of development and rights and forced them to abide by rules that they had no part on creating (though through the creation of Bantustans, small territories set aside for blacks, a false sense of power was allocated to African leaders who were used as pawns of the apartheid system). Black life (along with that of other minority groups) was dictated by whites and in many ways, in the second decade after the disassembling of apartheid, its remnants prove that this fate still manifests itself in the dangerous, under-accommodating, littered townships. This continuing reality has strongly obstructed the togetherness, the rich culture of these people forcing them to judge themselves against a people and a culture that they don’t seem to feel connected to but must strive to be a part of as a means to attain the desired resources and respect.

It does not seem to me that this institutionalized, internalized hierarchy is not as present in America. To me, it seems that economics tend to dictate ideology in the U.S., whereas here ideology dictates economics. While I am not weighing them against each other, I think there is something deeper that lies at the foundation of the problems in South Africa (which is understandable considering America has had centuries to continue its process if recovering from institutionalized hatred and South Africa has had less than 15 years.) Perhaps I have been desensitized to the racial issues that exist in America, but I think that… I hope that when I go back, this newfound awareness and interest will allow me to understand American racial relations in a new, more informed way.

At the same time as I say this, I am reading the writings of Steve Biko, the father of the Black Consciousness Movement (an ideology created by black youth in the late 60’s to empower blacks to determine their own fate instead of waiting for the whites to do it for them). Sidebar: Keep in mind as you read this that the UCT student union is named after Biko…right, so no offense to Carl and Ruth, but how do you compare the Shapiro Campus Center to that? His beliefs strongly cast aside people who are white as fighters of the struggle since their efforts often suppress those of people who are black who actually experience inequality first hand. In the sixties and seventies, many attempts were made in South Africa to form non-racial groups that were essentially run by whites who allowed blacks to join. As a result, black liberation was dependant upon whites in this framework and defined by their standards. Steve Biko believed that in order for black people to be liberated, they needed to release themselves of their own internal oppressions that conformed to these set standards. They needed to learn to take pride in the color of their skin and the connections to their black brothers and sisters as a result. He believed that the opposite of Apartheid, an oppressive, elitist, racist regime was not non-racialism but rather a profound solidarity and pride in black identity. As a result, the place of someone who was white in the struggle was to educate other white people about their own mistakes instead of trying to monopolize the mission of the struggle.

Amidst the inevitable white ignorance and guilt that will forever keep me at a distance from both the struggle of racial minorities in South Africa as well as America, I feel as though inequality has become the foundation upon which I build my connections to locations. While there are so many cultural differences, inequality and hierarchical institutions are unfortunately one of the forces that link different countries and societies of the world together. I think that I have learned this lesson on a personal level through being Jewish. As a Jew, our history is sodden with oppression, with terror and while I personally have led a privileged life in which I have undeservingly not had to experience any direct acts of this oppression and hatred, I feel as though I have developed a hyperawareness of those who have; because I will, as a Jew, forever be vulnerable. I suppose this is where the discussion of Israel is relevant. Politics aside, while this vulnerability at times challenges the safety one can feel in this homeland (as was the case on Thursday night), the remarkable atmosphere of profound connection that exists there demonstrates the importance of having a place where the controlled can be provided with a sense of control over their lives. Physical spaces where people feel validated for being what they are through connection to others like them are so necessary to developing the type of pride that the Black Consciousness Movement promoted. I guess I would call this way of thinking Human Consciousness. The tenets of this way of thinking would surround understanding the inequalities experienced by others through whatever personal experiences one may have with oppression, in whatever form.

In the end, I am aware that South Africa, America and Israel all have oppression entangled in their identities (a bunch of which I acknowledge I have not touched upon at all [especially in Israel]). The connection to some of these places may be more developed for different reasons, but ultimately I hope that I can feel links to different places and people through the shared right that we all have to live a safe existence that instills a sense of worth and equality.

So Emily and Ezra, let me know if this is a sufficient reply to your challenge. If any other of you 12 readers want to know anything specific let me know and I would be glad to address it.

Instead of South African Ulpan, I think I would prefer to take an excerpt from a recent assignment for my Liberation in Southern Africa class regarding key events in the period from 1960 – 1994 within the liberation struggle.

December 20, 1991 – After more than a year of planning, the Convention for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA) met for the first time at the World Trade Center in Johannesburg representing the beginning of negotiations between the Nationalist government, the African National Congress and various other parties. The objective of the convention was to hopefully address various societal inequalities and create change in the form of a new South Africa that would potentially grant equal rights and resources to all its inhabitants.

Cheers!

same old...same old..

Howzit? (This is a very popular South Africa greeting) I promise, though I am inquiring about your well-being in a forum that does not allow any reply that I do care and am not patronizing you..i really just wanted to say howzit. Anyway, things in the southern hemisphere (well Helena Court in Cape Town at least) are going quite well. This past

Shabbat was really wonderful, I went back to Sea Point and was again touched by the energy of the rabbis, the beautiful davening, the insightful speeches, the wonderful people who continue to become new friends and of course the delicious meat. Then on Sunday, I played Frisbee on a beautiful beach…again. Blah, blah… sorry it seems like I repeat myself, but I guess its nice to have a little bit of a routine.

On Sunday night, my awesome, Christian roommate and I began our long-awaited chevruta. We have decided that each week we will switch off introducing a text from our own religion and discuss it using our different religious lenses. Discussing a letter that she wrote including various religious themes, we proceeded to discuss the roles that God plays in our lives. Her unwavering love and faith in God was really striking. It made me reflect upon my own view on and relationship with God and I would like to share them. I think that I often try to infuse the motivation for my actions along with the actions themselves into my faith. I often refer to my attempts to treat people well as an expression of my faith because I believe that constantly focusing on how I should act is a way to live in God’s image and a way to put the purpose of the Torah (at least according to Rabbi Akiva) into action. While this does not seem negative in any sense for it tangles my belief and actions together in a way that creates a Jewish context for everything I do, I think that I rely upon this aspect of my Judaism (trying to treat people well and make moral decisions) to define my faith without ever addressing what I truly believe God to be. As much as I avoid the issue, in the way that I practice Judaism, faith is ultimately referring to my relationship with God.

I realized this at a shir on Monday night (something that I have happily adopted as part of my weekly routine) when the topic of discussion was faith, what it is and where it lies. In itm we discussed the idea of emunah, faith, and how to attain it. I was troubled by the definitiveness the sources were requiring of true believers because to me faith, especially in relationship to God, has always been so indefinable. To be told that this is not ok, that it needs to be something I fully understand was a little disconcerting and angering in the beginning. But as I thought about it more I came to realize that the life I lead and the things I both think about and believe in should lead me somewhere, to a definite understanding not in the sense of knowing what God is but at least to a declaration of an unwavering faith in some being known as God. Until now I think I have always thought of these things as the same but I have decided that they are quite dichotomous. I know that I believe in God, God’s oneness, God’s power and while at times I feel uncomfortable attaching certain terms that limit my understanding, I think that genuine, definite belief does provide God with some sort of identity, and in turn with some sort of understanding for the believer. While certain things remain unknown to me and I will never be possible to fully grasp every aspect of God, I suppose I am ok with that. The alternative would be too easy and what we define as faith would instead be a definite answer. And well, that would just be no fun.

Continuing on with exciting events that occurred on Monday, in my Liberation in Southern Africa class, the professor brought in a speaker Neville Alexander, who was a very active freedom fighter in the South African struggle and whose name popped up in “Long Walk to Freedom” numerous times. He discussed the transition from passive resistance to am armed struggle in the 1960’s as well as his 11 ears spent on robbin Island working with Nelson Mandela to turn prison into a educational “university” for all those incarcerated. His intelligence, articulateness and insight allowed me to catch a little glimpse of how amazing all of these brave people were. The Nationalist Government suppressed and persecuted them for so many decades and they were still able to remain focused on the plight of their entire people and continue to make contributions to the well being of South Africa today. It was humbling to be in this man’s presence, to visually have access to one being who has somehow positively impacted the lives of countless Africans.

After hearing about the evolution of struggle in South Africa, I was exposed to one of the problems yet to be remedied in this country since its liberation. Monday marked my second volunteer experience in the township of Khaylitscha. Traveling through such poor conditions, I expected to be overwhelmed by the differences, by the cultural and language barriers that were clearly present. But as I entered the computer room in the community center, the exact opposite occurred. While teaching computer literacy to kids who very much want to learn how to use these machines and who have such an appreciation for them can be a wonderful experience, it is rather difficult to find time to interact with them. They were very focused on the task at hand which is the point, but I felt unnecessary. And while it may be selfish of me to feel unfulfilled and underwhelmed, I think that I am going to try to find a different program to be a part of, one that will allow me to feel like I am making a contribution and being educated in return, one that will allow me to feel the same way I felt when I left Kensington last Thursday.

The brief period of time that was spent interacting did however grant me insight into this new world I hope to become acquainted with. As a group of 13 year old girls were introducing themselves to me, they asked me if I had any children. I did not know how to react and because we were only there in the context of learning how to use computers, I figured there would never be any way to converse about the lives of these kids, any way to form strong relationships and learn why this is the first thing they think to ask a stranger amidst playing solitaire and typing the names of fruit

All these complex experiences, along with all the ones I have had an presume I will continue to have, have really allowed me to feel connected to this country. I marvel everyday at the attempts that need to be made to continue to rebuild South Africa; everyone must constantly understand their role within it and while often this is a product of glaring inequality, this reconstruction allows people to be a part of a fluid process of change. I do not think I have ever thought about American in this way. While I value the life I have been privileged to lead as a result of growing up in a democratic meritocracy (well sort of), I do not feel like its history is my history, like the values that are strived for are the same that I attempt to attain. Here, the constant awareness of equality, inequality and identity are things I am proud to think about every day. It reminds me a little bit of Israel, because there I feel like my simple presence forces me to consider so many things that I cannot ignore, my religious identity, that of those around me and embracing difference both within and outside of the communities I identify with. I love being enriched not only by the people around me but by my surroundings as well, as I hope that later in life I am able to find a country to live in that provides me with that privilege.

That’s about enough pretentiousness for one night!

South African Ulpan:

Costume (Cozi) – noun – your smart enough to figure out how to pronounce this.Bathing suit.

Jamal wore his costume to the beach. (This is not a very smart sentence…I apologize)

Cheers from SA!