Friday August 1 and Saturday August 2, 2008

Friday

Today was the last day I volunteered at the schools. I decided to go back to Zonkizizwe Prinmay one last time to say goodbye to the kids and the teachers I’ve become friends with. I wasn’t able to stay long, but I had an extremely interesting experience for the time I was there! I was put in charge of teaching and Arts and Culture class for a group of Grade 6 learners. I asked them where they had left off in their books and in unison the learners yelled out “Page 56 Ma’am Nicole!” I borrowed a book from one of the learners in the front row and opened the page. To my surprise I found that the unit they were working on was dance, and styles of dance. Today’s dance-- break dancing.

For a moment I was stuck. What did I know about break dancing? Taking a deep breath, I told myself it would be fine, and that improvisation would be best! The learners would never know the difference. So I begin reading the lesson from the book and all of a sudden the lesson came easily to me. The words came out just right and the ideas molded together to make sense in a way that they could understand. I know they understood because when I asked questions later, hands shot up across the room to give answers.

Part of the lesson was to give a short history of hip hop, the style of music that influenced break dancing. I was all over that! The book gave the basics—how hip hop started in NYC in the 1970s, DJing, dance halls, break dancing on the street, etc., but since I was alone in the class I threw in my own tidbits of information! I explained to the learners that hip hop was born out of a culture of oppression, and that it was one way for poor black people to express themselves through story telling. I also talked about the influence of the griots from West Africa (trying to build a little Africa pride).

When one of the learners asked why the book stated that most break dancing was done without music, but with the beat counted out, that was when I talked about how early hip hop was created with few instruments because the people creating it weren’t too wealthy. We then talked about how you can make music without instruments, using one’s body: beat boxing, clapping hands, whistling, rapping, etc. So the book gave some of the essential information, and I filled in the gaps!

After that I had learners come to the front of the room and practice some of the popping, locking, and breaking moves in the book associated with break dancing. Then I had kids come up to the font of the class to do some traditional Zulu dancing called “jive.” Some of the learners pointed out on their own, without my prompting, that there were some similarities between break dancing and jive. It was truly an incredible experience, interacting with the kids, making connections to the outside world, and feeling like I was actually able to teach them something.

Saturday

Happy Birthday VVOCF! Today is the 1 year anniversary of the center and we threw a party at the local community hall. There were performances by the kids in the form of dancing, poetry, and a play. The play was re-written by Rachel and I both Rachel and I helped design and build the props along with the kids. Overall, everything was a success! Many of the parents and guardians came out to watch the kids in their performances, and we had close to 150 people there. After all the performances we had birthday cake and fruit salad.

After the party we did house visits with our pen pals. Since Alex is in Mozambique, I did the house visit for both Shongane and Lungisani. I met their mother and their two older sisters. Their home was sparsely furnished, but very clean. Their older sisters were very nice and did a lot of translating for me for their mother. Their mother thanked me over and over for helping Shongane learn English and for buying her some nice clothes. After having a glass of Coca-Cola I purchased for the family and chatting for a bit, I left to go back to the center. Shongane and Lungisani walked me back to the center, but had to go straight back home after that because it was getting dark. I waited at the center with some of the older kids who had come back to say goodbye to the MSU students, who were leaving tomorrow. I watched as they all said their tearful goodbyes and tried not to cry. I know I’ll be crying next week when it’s my turn to say goodbye.

I have mixed feelings about leaving this place. On one hand I am ready to see my family, friends, and all the places that are familiar to me in the United States. On the other hand, I don’t want to leave this place when there is still so much work to be done. I also don’t want to be parted from these kids—they have become like my little brothers and sisters, and I love them so much! I want to be here to help them and see them succeed and grow… but I know they must learn to do these things on their own. I will be able to support them with the education fund, Our Future is in Our Hands, when I am back in the US, but it will not be the same as being here. Even so, I know that when I say goodbye next week, it won’t be forever. I know I’ll be back someday soon.