Fine. Really.
If you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm. I'm not fine. In fact, I barely clear the 'okay' mark. The only thing keeping me above 'heap of goo' is the fact that Barbs gave me a pill for my aching head, which doesn't ache so badly. I thought i would try to have a happy, lighthearted entry for today...but then decided no. This is MY place: i don't have to pretend, do i?
The school was small. and i mean tiny. The room we were in was small as well. Take a standard classroom, shrink it, then put over fourty students in it. There was dust everywhere. We were lucky, apperantly. Our school had electricity. Teenagers, I've come to learn, are universal. There is nothing about a Canadian teenager is that a Zulu teenager isn't, unless you count skin colour, which is mostly irrelevant. Oh wait, no. The Zulu kids are POLITE. (which is a big thing in the Zulu society. Sibongele was explaining it to me earlier. I'll get around to relaying the info eventually.) The school we were in had been (under the aparteid) an Indian school. there was a marble plaque saying taht. The teachers were subsequently all Indian. They were very polite, and listened so graciously...
But the thing that struck me. They have nothing. The school was nothing. They had very few posters on the walls -- the paint was chipping and the toilets...the ones for the students were worse than any camp bathroom I have ever seen in my LIFE. There was a man going around replacing the bars on the doors, and as he was using his welding torch.. he didn't have anything to cover his eyes with. So he didn't.
As we walked into the school all the children stared and said the Zulu word for "white person". We were, in fact, the only white people in the school. I imagine that not very many of these children have much contact with white people, if any. It was the strangest feeling: I knew i was an anomaly, yet I didn't feel like one. The young kids got out of school earlier than the older ones, and they came to come and peer anxiously into the classroom to see the white people. I didn't mind. The program was like anything that we have in Canada. you know the ones -- where the 'cool' guy comes in to give a talk on everything. Jobs, sex, STD's...and the students act all blase and bored. It was almost identical. It's amazing how so many things are universal. He was a very good teacher. He caught and held their attention for three hours, no breaks. Except there were two students who fell asleep...and he made them stand on their desks.
It was great. Overwhelming, though. Afterwards I went to work and read my emails...only to feel completely and utterly overwhelmed by everything. Yes, i did get them all. Some ichose not to respond to -- i'll get back to you eventually. Maybe.
It made me think, though. About home. About how lucky we are. I have never been so thankful for my family before in my whole entire life. And, as much as you may hate them.. suck it up. At least your mother doesn't pay you to leave the house on weekends so she can screw her new boyfriend. there is nobody who can convince me that they have it worse than some of these poor, rejected children.
And that's not all
I was reading the South African seventeen magazine, and you know what it said? That if you use a condom and are on the pill, not only will you NOT get pregnant (something that is untrue) but that you are protected from STI's and HIV. Now, read that again, and tell me how a country that is swimming with AIDS can put as their "Sexpert" someone who doesn't know anything?! I read the magazine on Sunday, and since then have found myself so upset by it. EVERY SINGLE letter she answered...there was some flaw in her logic. A girl wrote in, obviously addicted to sex and she said that it was normal. There's...arg. I don't understand.
And the worst bit of it all
Is the fact that i can't DO anything. That against this monstrosity I am completely and utterly helpless. All i can do is watch and pray.
So I'm sorry
if I'm a little vague or unhelpful this next little while. I'm struggling on many, many, many fronts and if you can pray (or send some good vibes or something) for me it would be muchly appreciated. I'll try and take some pics from the school tomorrow, so you can get an idea --if not now, then when i get home.
And finally...for my sake. For the fact that you have parents who care at least a little, be thankful. Be grateful that we are free. That we have health care. That we have decent schools and enough food. Be thankful for everything we have. Specifically everything YOU have. Because if you're anything like me, you have NO idea how much it really is.
If you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm. I'm not fine. In fact, I barely clear the 'okay' mark. The only thing keeping me above 'heap of goo' is the fact that Barbs gave me a pill for my aching head, which doesn't ache so badly. I thought i would try to have a happy, lighthearted entry for today...but then decided no. This is MY place: i don't have to pretend, do i?
The school was small. and i mean tiny. The room we were in was small as well. Take a standard classroom, shrink it, then put over fourty students in it. There was dust everywhere. We were lucky, apperantly. Our school had electricity. Teenagers, I've come to learn, are universal. There is nothing about a Canadian teenager is that a Zulu teenager isn't, unless you count skin colour, which is mostly irrelevant. Oh wait, no. The Zulu kids are POLITE. (which is a big thing in the Zulu society. Sibongele was explaining it to me earlier. I'll get around to relaying the info eventually.) The school we were in had been (under the aparteid) an Indian school. there was a marble plaque saying taht. The teachers were subsequently all Indian. They were very polite, and listened so graciously...
But the thing that struck me. They have nothing. The school was nothing. They had very few posters on the walls -- the paint was chipping and the toilets...the ones for the students were worse than any camp bathroom I have ever seen in my LIFE. There was a man going around replacing the bars on the doors, and as he was using his welding torch.. he didn't have anything to cover his eyes with. So he didn't.
As we walked into the school all the children stared and said the Zulu word for "white person". We were, in fact, the only white people in the school. I imagine that not very many of these children have much contact with white people, if any. It was the strangest feeling: I knew i was an anomaly, yet I didn't feel like one. The young kids got out of school earlier than the older ones, and they came to come and peer anxiously into the classroom to see the white people. I didn't mind. The program was like anything that we have in Canada. you know the ones -- where the 'cool' guy comes in to give a talk on everything. Jobs, sex, STD's...and the students act all blase and bored. It was almost identical. It's amazing how so many things are universal. He was a very good teacher. He caught and held their attention for three hours, no breaks. Except there were two students who fell asleep...and he made them stand on their desks.
It was great. Overwhelming, though. Afterwards I went to work and read my emails...only to feel completely and utterly overwhelmed by everything. Yes, i did get them all. Some ichose not to respond to -- i'll get back to you eventually. Maybe.
It made me think, though. About home. About how lucky we are. I have never been so thankful for my family before in my whole entire life. And, as much as you may hate them.. suck it up. At least your mother doesn't pay you to leave the house on weekends so she can screw her new boyfriend. there is nobody who can convince me that they have it worse than some of these poor, rejected children.
And that's not all
I was reading the South African seventeen magazine, and you know what it said? That if you use a condom and are on the pill, not only will you NOT get pregnant (something that is untrue) but that you are protected from STI's and HIV. Now, read that again, and tell me how a country that is swimming with AIDS can put as their "Sexpert" someone who doesn't know anything?! I read the magazine on Sunday, and since then have found myself so upset by it. EVERY SINGLE letter she answered...there was some flaw in her logic. A girl wrote in, obviously addicted to sex and she said that it was normal. There's...arg. I don't understand.
And the worst bit of it all
Is the fact that i can't DO anything. That against this monstrosity I am completely and utterly helpless. All i can do is watch and pray.
So I'm sorry
if I'm a little vague or unhelpful this next little while. I'm struggling on many, many, many fronts and if you can pray (or send some good vibes or something) for me it would be muchly appreciated. I'll try and take some pics from the school tomorrow, so you can get an idea --if not now, then when i get home.
And finally...for my sake. For the fact that you have parents who care at least a little, be thankful. Be grateful that we are free. That we have health care. That we have decent schools and enough food. Be thankful for everything we have. Specifically everything YOU have. Because if you're anything like me, you have NO idea how much it really is.
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