Week Thirteen: The Black Intelligencia of South Africa

Molo Family! Friends!

What a week! Not much has changed in the way of my work load. I'm equally as busy if not more, but I had such a nice ending to my week. Let me tell you about it:

I'm undertaking this independent research project and the woman supervising me, Jane, is the head of the department of the African Gender Institute at UCT. I went to visit with her, check in and give her a progress report. Because I e-mailed her and hadn't heard back from her regarding her availability, I just went by her office in the AGI on Thursday since she's usually available in the morning that day. She's not in her office. I go upstairs where the reception desk is to leave a message for her and that's where I run into Elaine, my professor for my AGI course on feminist theory on the continent. She's meeting with a student but I ask her if she'd seen Jane. She told me that Jane was speaking at a conference that she was on her way to and that I should definitely go. I had no desire to go to my religion class (the topic was Hinduism) so when she offered to give me a ride, I said absolutely.

We get there a bit late, but Jane has just begun. We sneak in and take a seat. Elaine is listening oh so critically. I get a little lost at some points because some of the words she's using I've never heard of before. Generally though she was talking about the woman who brought Jacob Zuma up on rape charges and the trial that insued. Talking specifically about how the scripts people have of their heads about how a rape is supposed to go prevented them from viewing her or her story as credible and plausable, respectively.

Her paper wasn't the most interesting at all, but what I thought was more interesting was the conversation that I was privvy to during lunch between Angelo, Desiree, Elaine, and Bianca (who works with Elaine at the AGI). They are apart of 'the' Black intellectuals of Cape Town. While they don't brand themselves as such it was quite obvious. They were all early to mid 40s with the exception of Bianca a recent Master's grad in anthropology who works with Elaine. All of them academics or in the case of Angelo, a former academic working on a novel. I had such a great time at the conference on Thursday so Elaine offered to take me again on Friday. During this two day conference I observed all of them:

Angelo was watching Boondocks (an anime tv show) on his laptop during some parts of the conference. Desiree sat mostly attentitive giving her opinions only when she clearly felt moved. The paper she presented was brilliant. I'm actually reading some of her work for my project. Elaine brought up questions about cultural constructions of masculinities and sexuality on the continent specifically in relation to Jane's work. At lunch, they critiqued Jane's from beginning to end. What they found most problematic was her inability to talk about race and sexuality critically as apart of these "scripts" that people had in their heads.

They also talked about all the books they'd been reading. One called "Coconut" by Kopana Matlwa. Think brown on the outside, white on the inside which is equatable to an 'Oreo' in Afro-American lingo. Desiree loaned me her copy of "Coconut" and also told me that I should make time to come by the University of the Western Cape where she is based. Angelo invited me to raid his book collection and we'll be exchanging illegal downloads of our favorite television shows via the internet. And Elaine invited me over for dinner with her family.

On the way home Friday, I told her that I was a little upset that I hadn't asked her to sponsor my research since she was an anthropologist by trade and my work was ethnographic. She told me I was welcome to come to her anytime for help.

Anywho, I've made some great connections with the "older crowd" (not saying that 40 is old or anything). I just enjoy being around Black people who are older than me and successful and doing what they love to do. I always have. They have so much wisdom that can rub off on you. I can always use some more wisdom.

One Love

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"For there are no new ideas. Just new ways of making them felt..." Audre Lorde

Week Twelve: About 20k words in four weeks....

Fam! Friends!

I know I'm a little late with this... truth is... HOMEWORK is no joke!. I'm really clamping down. I have 4 huge papers due within the next four weeks, average 5k words a piece. This Includes the final draft of my independent research project and the literature review I'm working on with Rape Crisis. I'm finalizing the plan on how I'm going to get it all done, but the key is working non-stop during the day all next week since we have a few national holidays: next Monday, Thursday and Friday. Most people are taking the opportunity to travel, but I'm going to be working on these papers. Knocking them out.

Oh, I've been successful in getting some internship applications out there for this upcoming summer in DC. I even got some 'call backs.' I'll keep you posted!

Only a few weeks left! Oh my God... I can't believe how quickly my time here is flying by!

That's all I got (time for).



One Love

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"For there are no new ideas. Just new ways of making them felt..." Audre Lorde

Week Eleven: To Pick a Brain

Molo Family! Friends!

Sorry I'm late with the weekly update. My week has been a bit busy and I've been a little under the weather. A bug is going around, but I'm fine. On with it then:

I have spent the entire week picking the brains of the women at the Rape Crisis center for my independent research project. If I include the one I did today, I've done 8 over the past 7 days. And last Thursday I did 3 interviews in a matter of 7 hours. My brain was a bit tired.

My research began as an interrogation into the discourse of a rape crisis center and looking at how that discourse interacted with the work they did in the policy making arena. Then after some preliminary research and formulating the interview schedule, it became aparent that what I really was interested in was not about the policy but how these women understood themselves, rape, and the work that they did at a rape crisis center that has its own history having been in existence for 30 years.

All of these women have absolutely amazing stories and the power of this organization to actually change the directions of their lives and change their understandings of their gendered selves is absolutely amazing. One of the women said that it affects "the essence of you... that's the essence of rape crisis." It has given them a voice. Especially the black women who come from environments and live in environments where "African" customs and practices still very much inform the way people are and the gender relations i.e. women are subbordinate to men, women are jurial minors, men are the breadwinners, women are financially dependent on men. It has made these women who come from understandings like that bold enough to stand up to the crazy things that happen in their churches, specifically the 'men of God' sexually take advantage of the young women in their church, in their homes... one of the women said that she and her husband and son clash all the time because she learned from her (step)daughter, her son's wife, that he is abusive. Every last one of the women I've spoken with have either had friends or family members who have been victims of some form of sexual violence, and some have had experiences with it personally. Rape is very real in this country and rape crisis does it's part in supporting the survivors of rape.

They are working to end rape in a country that has the highest incidence of rape in the world and has one of the fastest growing HIV/AIDS infection rate in the world. Why are they struggling to keep their doors open? Why isn't the government throwing money at them? And why don't they have a revenue generation system? These women have the passion, the know how, to do this work. One woman said that "rape crisis was like an angel... I'll be the last person to leave when they shut the doors." Even though all of them aren't university "educated," they have found a way to to ground themselves in a very (scholarly) feminist approach and have given each other the language and tools necessary to understand this issue of rape, gender equality, and themselves. Yet, they have not managed to also discover a feminist, business ethic and savvy.

One of the major themes that is sticking out to me not only in my work with them, but also in the classroom is: how does scholarship translate into action? How do I can get my own needs and wants and passions to interact with the formation of a feminist approach to business and activism that allows me to make the kind of money I want to while simultaneously working for (or operating) the type of organization that does work for women internally (within the organization) and externally (in the community)? I mentioned this a few weeks ago and it's this low rumble that seems to pervade all the research I'm doing, all the papers i write... I just don't think that it's enough to theorize, to get published or read important feminist text... I want to change the world!

Forgive my heady musings... but then again it's all apart of the expereince of being in South Africa.

Off to wine and cocktails with my professors!

(They're welcoming a new member to the staff of the African Gender Institute and invited students!)

One Love,
Nikki

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"For there are no new ideas. Just new ways of making them felt..." Audre Lorde

Week Ten: Do not leave candles unattended and make sure your fire extinguishers work

Hey Family! Hey Friends!

Have you ever felt that rush of terror come over you when you look at all of the things you are supposed to be doing and you count the number of hours you actually have available to get it all done? I felt that earlier this week.

I had to type 20 pages of my research proposal up for my independent research proposal on top of needing to have something to show for the literature review I am working on for the rape crisis center. I also had an 4-6 page paper due at the end of the week in another course. I had to eat at some point, maybe take a shower, and wash my clothes--you know--live. I was feeling the terror.

I sent an e-mail nearly in tears to Kath at the rape crisis center telling her about my plate and how much I was trying to chew... She's great by the way. She really put me at ease. I was also put at ease after I spoke to Prof Bennett who is overseeing my independent research. Those two projects just take up so much of my time, and the lines between them are so easily blurred... but I had to put them into perspective and get to a place where I could manage my time like I needed to. I've made deadlines for myself and have also made it a point to rest during on my weekends.

So I've worked through my feelings of anxiety and I'm just being very careful about adding more things to my plate. There is a fashion show coming up on campus, and you know I love to dress up and wear my heals and walk around like Eva from America's Next Top Model. I'm considering auditioning for it, but I'm going to do some serious thinking about it first and find out more about the time commitment. Just a point of interest.

I cannot end this e-mail without telling you about the crazy thing that happened last night:

At around 8pm the power went out, as scheduled. The power company, Eskom, calls it load shedding. The power is cut four hours a week, Friday mid-day and Monday 8-10:30pm. That isn't what this story is about. It's just to place it into context. The power is out, it's 8pm and it's pitch black in my house. So I found some candles and lit two for my room; so did Michelle whose room is next door to mine. We soon realized that we weren't going to be able to do homework by candlelight, so we figured we would hang out. My housemates and I gathered in the kitchen lit candles and kept each other company. Matt decided he wanted to see if he could cook a hotdog over candles... That was gross to watch. After about half an hour of watching Matt eat this uncooked hotdog with candle soot on it, I figured I should at least try to nap so that when the power did come on, I'd be able to stay up late and put some time in on my paper due Wednesday. As I turn into my doorway I look over to my right and see a bright light eminating from Michelle's room. I look up and there's a dense cloud of black smoke coming from her room. I peek around the corner and see that her bed and a bookshelf are in flames! I run back to the kitchen yelling "fire! fire! get the extinguisher!" A couple guys grab the fire extinguisher in the kitchen and Jeb runs to get Moses, our house mentor, in the other house. Meanwhile, Matt can't get the fire extinguisher from my kitchen to work and I'm yelling for everyone upstairs to come downstairs since the smoke is traveling upstairs and I didn't know if people were asleep. The fire is climbing up the wall and Ethan is beating flames with a pillow yelling for water. Moses and Zach come running with fire extinguishers. Zach's fire extinguisher also isn't working but finally Moses' is and he puts out the flames. Needless to say that Michelle was and still is freaking out. No one was hurt and her bed, books and trinkets took the brunt of the damage. My room is a little dusty, but nothing serious.

Thought for the week: Do not leave candles unattended and check your fire extinguishers.

One Love

Week Eight, but mostly Nine: Durban --> Cape Town

Molo! Family and Friends!!

I'm back (in Cape Town)! I hope you didn't miss me too much, but I was on VAC (Fall Break… it's Fall here) in Durban. So, to catch you up:

Durban: First of all, me and my friend Emily took the SA Roadlink from Cape Town to Durban. The SA Roadlink? Think Greyhound and think about what would be a few grades worse than that and then think about being on that for 30 hours one way, 60 roundtrip. That's SA Roadlink. They have the audacity to call these buses "luxury double-decker coaches" but the reality is that they are roach infested, smelly vessels.

The trip was scheduled to take approximately 24 hours, but it took somewhere around 30 hours. We left about 7pm Friday and about an hour and a half into the trip the bus pulled over at Shell gas station and remained there for about 3 hours. No one told us what was happening but Emily finally went down to see what the problem was and discovered that we were in fact waiting for a mechanic to bring a part and fix the electric adapter on the bus. Thank god I had managed to fall
asleep by this time but Emily informs me that around midnight they proceeded to play, no excuse me, blast, this absolutely horrible music medley.

We finally arrived in Durban around half past eleven Saturday. Emily and myself were the only ones left to get off at Durban; the bus had stopped at like 30 different small towns along the way which wasn't bad because I got to see how people live in less urbanized areas of South Africa. The bus attendant and the drivers offered to take us home as they were pulling out their wine and ales to drink. "Work then play" the bus attendant said to us with a smile as we got off at
our stop.

The bus ride was a mess, but the guest house we stayed at made up for that. It was absolutely beautiful. The beds were a little hard, but I didn't even care they were clean and not a smelly seat on a roach infested, smelly vessel. It was like staying at a family members house for the week. The man who ran it was so nice and knowledgeable about the city.

That day we went to the beach and walked down the board walk. Saw a motor bike expo on the way. Also saw a surfing competition. We had dinner at a chic bohemian restaurant that evening. The next day we went to the botanical gardens (I saw a monkey) then walked around the city centre. That was an experience. We made it out alive and that's all that mattered. We went to the Suncoast Entertainment centre the next day where we went to the movies and saw 10 000 BC (don't judge me, that's all they had that was even worth seeing… and I use worth very loosely) and spent a little bit of time in the Casino! I won R30 by the way… I mean I lost it all about 3 minutes later, but it was fun. Went to a European influenced restaurant for dinner where the waitress proceeded to explain to me what a bagel was! I didn't know what a "boiled bagel" was. Apparently it's a regular bagel. The next Indian restaurant for dinner. Our last full day there we visited a museum and saw Durban City Hall.

The museum was probably the most interesting part of the trip. I learned so much about apartheid and the city space. Apartheid was a monster. It was about making black bodies labor units. About dehumanizing black people and making them unwelcome in spaces that they helped to build. It was about control. It's deep. Too deep to put in this paragraph. I'm learning so much about how contemporary South Africa lives in the legacy, the shadow of forced removals. We can have a chat about it when I return if you want.

So, Thursday we were back on the bus headed back to Cape Town. The trip was equally as uncomfortable. I was so happy to be back in Cape Town. I missed my mini-buses and the homeless man outside of the 7 Eleven and I missed that guy outside of Shoprite who sells the overripe vegetables who always asks me if I'm doing okay today. *sigh*

But I'm back. Until next week! (look for pictures from Snapfish this week!)

One Love

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"Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning." Maya Angelou