the big one

Warning: This is a geo and history entry. Prepare yourselves to see/ read about me at my geo-histo-geekiest! Also, it’s a long entry so make yourselves comfortable and prepare for an enlightening read.

This weekend Trevor and I went to the Big Hole. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but the Big Hole is the name of the diamond mine (owned by DeBeers) that is located in Kimberely. In fact, the Big Hole is the entire reason that Kimberley exists.

Trevor and I.

In 1866 a young boy, Erasmus Jacobs, picked up a pretty stone while he was playing near the Orange River on his father’s farm. When a friend of the family, Schalk van Niekerk, was visiting the boy’s father the interesting looking stone caught his eye and he offered to buy it. Erasmus’ parents simply gave van Niekerk the stone believing that it was nothing more than a unique pebble. That interesting looking stone turned out to be a 21.25-carat diamond that was later named Eureka.

But it wasn’t until 1871, when two brothers – by the name of De Beers – found an 83.50-carat diamond on the slopes of their farm in Colesberg Kopje, that the rush for diamonds began. This “New Rush” brought thousands of different people to Kimberley. Kimberley quickly became the largest city in the area as waves of immigrants moved to the area from all over the African continent. Kimberley became the first city in South Africa with electricity and it also had other comforts such as a telegraph, a tram system and running water.

A schematic drawing of the Big Hole and some fun facts.

From mid-July 1871 to 1914 (the mine was closed when World War I began), over 50,000 miners dug out the Big Hole with picks and shovels. The big hole covers a surface area of 42 acres and is 463 meters wide. It was dug to a depth of 240 m, but then partially in-filled with debris reducing its depth to about 215m; since then groundwater has filled the hole to a depth of 40 m, leaving 175 m visible. After the mine filled in with debris and water, mining continued and the Kimberley Mine was mined to a depth of 1097 meters.

The Big Hole with the Kimberley skyline in the background.

One of the unique things about the New Rush was that when individuals arrived they could make/ buy individual claims of land on which they could look for diamonds. As a result, Kimberley was built up in an erratic manner around the central diggings. Today the streets of Kimberley still reflect the patterns of erratic mine work (and maintaining a sense of direction while navigating them is a tough feat). During the 1880s however, several individuals began amalgamating smaller mining stakes and companies into large companies. In 1888, Cecil Rhodes bought out his competition and created De Beers Consolidated Mines, which to this day sill retains a monopoly over the world’s diamonds. 

Kimberley certainly has a unique history. But I’m sure you are all wondering – why were so many diamonds found in Kimberley? Well, allow me put my geology cap on and tell you!

Before the discovery of the pipes at Kimberley, diamonds were known only from alluvial river gravels in India, Brazil and South Africa – the Vaal River. The mines of Kimberley showed for the first time that diamonds could also be found in a certain type of volcanic rock that formed steep, deep pipes. Diamonds formed in the mantle are picked up and brought to the surface in magmas that explode as volcanoes.  This rock type, new to geology at the time, was identified and named ‘kimberlite’ by Carvill Lewis, an American geologist.

An enthused me near a pile of kimberlites.

The kimberlite pipes of Kimberley are shaped like carrots underground. In a complete pipe, three distinct zones of slightly different rock can be recognized: an upper crater zone filled with layered volcaniclastic kimberlite (layered VK); a pipe zone where the VK is generally not layered (massive VK); and a deeper root zone filled with magmatic kimberlite (MK) that has not exploded. The latter is the intrusive part of the volcanic complex, while the VKs are the kimberlite magmas that exploded. Kimberlite is an igneous metamorphic rock composed mainly of mantle olivine and other rock and mineral fragments (called xenocrysts and/or xenoliths), all set in a very fine groundmass (also referred to as the matrix). Interestingly, there are no modern kimberlite volcanoes erupting anywhere on Earth today. The youngest kimberlite volcano (Mwadui in Tanzania) is 45 million years old.

Not all volcanoes are sources of diamonds. Diamond-bearing rock as found in kimberlite volcanoes is rare. Magmas that intrude directly from the mantle and intersect thick lithosphere are more likely to contain diamonds. Most volcanoes around the world however, are found in mid-ocean spreading ridges or at subduction zones where the lithosphere is too thin to host diamonds. Kimberlite magma is the result of deep mantle melting – possibly as deep as 300 km – that occurs under thick lithosphere. This unique package of thick lithosphere and deep mantle melting are the conditions necessary for the growth and preservation of diamond and these conditions are only found beneath the oldest continental crust, called Archaean cratons.

I really enjoyed going to the Big Hole. Trevor and I had a good time trying to throw rocks into the Big Hole from the viewing platform – we were told this was impossible and neither of us successfully got a rock in the hole. I invite all of you to come visit and give it a try! I also thoroughly scavenged the ground and took home four pieces of kimberlite (to anyone reading from the WM Geology Department – I promise to bring home some samples for our collection), which I’m sure will not be the only kimberlite rocks that I collect while here.

take it to the streets

Skillz Street. I’ve talked about it. I’ve raved about it. I’ve tried my best to explain it. But words can never aptly reflect the magic that is Skillz Street. So, today it is my pleasure to present to you the first movie I have ever made: Skillz Street.

Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did and stay tuned because I have a feeling there are many more movies to come!

boys town

Boys town es lekker goud! Boys town es lekker goud! Boys town es lekker goud! That chant was repeated at least 100 times by players and game-watchers alike after my team (I was playing with Clifford’s team again) won 3-0 in the “final” of a tournament today. They might not be the best soccer players, but South Africans are definitely some of the best celebrators.

My team - "Boys Town" after a win.

Soccer here is a whole different animal. Take a look at the picture above. Notice anything about it? Notice how my teammates, and subsequently the only competition I can get, are ages 12 – 15? Notice how the field we are playing on is all dirt? Notice the mountain in the background that mercilessly shoots dirt onto the pitch with just the slightest breeze? Notice the supporters in the background? And that’s just the half of it. 

Let’s start with the dirt. Every pitch I have played on has been dirt. Wherever there is an empty, flat space, people just throw up some goal posts (often without a net) and call it a soccer pitch. I think its great! Everyone lives in walking distance to at least one soccer pitch, which makes Sunday afternoon games a community activity. Fans line the sideline, looking for entertainment. They drink, shout, heckle, encourage, run onto the field to hug a player that has scored, and chase after soccer balls that are kicked out of bounds. The atmosphere is unbeatable.

The conditions are another story. The ball moves very quickly and unpredictably across the dirt fields. There is so much dirt around that after just ten minutes I end up covered in red dirt. It is so dry here that even after drinking 2 Nalgene’s before a match, my throat feels dry in an instant. And Kimberley is located at an elevation of 5,000 feet above sea level so my lungs haven’t adjusted yet. But I love it. The conditions are forcing me to adapt and I can’t help but feel that this is how soccer is supposed to be played: a group of people, a patch of ground, 4 goalposts and one ball. It’s phenomenal being a part of this.

The girls that I’m playing with are pretty phenomenal too. Not particularly skilled (because they haven’t had the opportunities to train that I have) they have a lot of heart. And I think they like me. I scored two more goals today and after each one all of my teammates ran over and jumped on me. My favorite player, Annalise, would always jump right into my arms so I could pick her up and swing her around. The fans go crazy too. Every time I was near the sideline someone would be calling to me and say, “Lauren! Score a goal for me, Lauren! Score a goal for me!” And the best part of my day was when a little 9 or 10-year-old boy came up to me at the end of the match and told me he loved me because I play soccer so good.

I know I’ve only interacted with these kids a few times and I know we come from completely different places, but I think – and I’m hoping – that I’ll get to keep playing with them and act as a role model. That would be pretty special. And it’s these moments – the moments when I feel like I am making a difference just by playing in the townships or the moments when I’m getting hugged by some adorable South African children that are helping me push through any and all frustrations. This is definitely where I am supposed to be right now and I can’t wait for more of these moments. 

GRS Girlz

I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow I convinced 8 GRS female coaches to come play soccer with me today. This was quite a feat because very few of the female coaches (maybe four out of twenty-something) actually play soccer. Usually when I invite them to come play with me they just start talking really quickly in their native tongue (either Setswana or Afrikaans), laughing raucously and making wild gestures. But I talked Clifford into setting up a game between the GRS Girlz and his Under-20 team (the team I played with last weekend) and Cheese Boy and Nthabi assured me that we’d have enough players for a team.

The game was scheduled for 2:00 and I left my apartment at 12:45 to go pick up Krista (who is quickly becoming one of my best friends) Cheese Boy and Nthabi. I had no clue that I was actually going to pick up the entire team. After getting the first three, I began just blindly driving around the zigzagging streets of Galeshewe in order to pick up the other coaches. This drive was hilarious! Because I was following South African directions – which means they tell you to turn once you have practically passed the turn – there was a lot swerving, driving on curbs and U-turns (I’m making this sound crazy, which it was, but I promise I was driving safely, Mom and Dad). And every time I made a sweet/ crazy driving maneuver half the car would shout out as if their lives were in danger and the other half would cheer me on. But, by the time I had picked up all the coaches for the game, it was 2:00…

Me and the GRS female coaches. Aka, the GRS Girlz team.

I was worried about being late. I really shouldn’t have been. When we finally got to the field out in Roodepan, Clifford and his team were nowhere to be seen. Now I was really confused – and a bit frustrated. But I found a ball, began dribbling and juggling by myself and after about an hour I heard someone shout my name. It was one of Clifford’s players, Annalisa, who I had played with last week and after I waved to her she came running up to me and gave me a big hug. This might have been the highlight of my time in Kimberley so far. After Annalisa showed up, Clifford and his team slowly began to trickle in and kick off finally happened around 3:30.

There are really no words to describe the game. It was just that ridiculous. Except for Coach Necy, Cheese Boy, Denise and myself, no one on the GRS team had a clue what she was doing. If I hadn’t been playing I’m sure I would’ve been highly amused by the fact that a bunch of women over 21 were running around after a soccer ball looking very much like 5-year-olds in the U.S. But after the other team scored a goal, I quickly lost sight of the humor in the situation.

After half time, I took matters into my own hands. In the first five minutes I won a ball in the middle of the field, dribbled around three players and took a shot just outside the 18 (with my left foot). It was a pretty sick shot if I may say so myself! Call me a jerk for schooling a bunch of 14/15-year-olds, but I really don’t like losing. After we scored this first goal, my team finally began to look like we knew what we were doing. It wasn’t easy and it sure wasn’t pretty, but the GRS Girlz coaches ended up winning the game 4-1 (I scored two goals, Denise scored one and the last goal was an own goal).

After the game, everyone chipped in for some food and we went to Boettie B’s house (Boettie B is one of the guy coaches that lives in Roodepan who came to watch our game). Nthabi cooked up a delicious dish. I’m not really sure what it was, but I know it had spicy sausage (or some sort of meet), tomatoes and carrots in it, and it had a great kick to it. We all just sat on Boettie B’s driveway, relaxed and talked about the game. Well, by talking I mean that coaches took turns making fun of how bad other coaches played or re-enacting funny moments on the field, but everyone played and laughed along and seemed to be having a good time. I can conclude by saying that today was a good day; it was filled with good people, good food, good fun and something that sort of looked like soccer. 

The team enjoying good food and good friends after our first ever win!

in it

There's no doubting it - I really am in it now. This week has kept me extremely busy and I think it is a good example of what my internship will be like for the next year. I spent a lot of time driving on the wrong side of the road, a lot of time getting lost, a good amount of time working on finances and figuring out South African money (the Rand), a good amount of time trying to speak Afrikaans (with a terrible accent apparently) and a little bit of time playing soccer. 

Most of my driving was for cost-share purposes. Cost-share is a pretty cool thing. In order to show our corporate funders (i.e. USAID/NPI, Nike, the Elton John Foundation) that GRS is conscious about the amount of money we are spending, GRS agrees to “share the cost” of running out programs with our founders. GRS does this through fundraising (getting money from individuals) and through in-kind donations. For example, if Nike were to donate 100 t-shirts to one of our programs, GRS can claim those shirts towards the amount of money we pledged to cost-share. Basically, whenever something such as a good, a service, a classroom, or a soccer field that an organization would normally have to pay for is given to GRS for no cost, we can use that to go towards our cost-share. The one tricky thing about cost-share is the documentation. I spent all morning on Wednesday delivering letters to different schools in which GRS had run programs. At each school I had to find the principal, talk to them for a bit and then get them to sign and stamp our letter acknowledging that we got to use their facilities for free. I got so lost looking for different schools, but somehow I managed to find 6 different schools, meet wit the principals and make it back to the office in time for lunch. 

But my day didn’t end there. I got to go to Skillz Street afternoon. I really like Skillz Street. It is the all girls program that GRS runs to not only educate young girls about HIV, but also to help them build self-efficacy and recognize that they can be powerful figures in their community. The best part about these interventions is the fair play soccer games. Having played soccer semi-seriously, when I first heard about these games I kind of thought they were a bit of a joke, but after watching them in action my mind has been completely changed and I think they are amazing!

Each Fair Play game begins with the two teams coming together and making their own rules. Some of the rules that the girls came up with were no goalies, no corners, support each other, everyone celebrates when a goal is scored, no pushing, if someone falls everyone helps here up. As you can see they get to practice setting their own terms and the rules are all clearly designed so that the girls can have as much fun as possible. After the rules are settled, the teams shake hands and get going. The girls aren’t super talented and they don’t even get to play for a long time, but watching them chase after the soccer ball is one of the most entertaining and awe-inspiring things I have ever seen. Their faces just light up!

All the games are 6 v. 6 on small fields and during each game half of each team remains on the sideline, but they don’t just stand there. No! The coaches help to rally the sidelines, but throughout the entire game the sidelines are cheering and chanting and dancing. It is fantastic to watch and makes being a spectator so much more fun.

At the end of the game, the girls gather round the coaches and talk about what they liked about the game, whether or not they played fair (did they follow their own rules) and how they can play fair in real life. They didn’t say a lot, but what little they said, such as, “realizing that you have people to support you in life” really reveals the magic of these fair play games.  I can’t wait to watch another and I promise I’ll have pictures and/ or videos for you!

international hat trick

Well if being white didn’t make me stand out Rhodepan, the coloured township, then scoring three goals in a soccer match certainly did. That’s right, I just got my first international hat trick. Not bad after being here for less than a week, huh? But before all you start showering me with praise (which I know you are) I should probably clarify a few things.

I found out about this girl’s team from Clifford, one of the coaches. He told me he was the coach, that it would be no problem if I played and that I should show up at the field by 11:30. But when I asked for directions to the field he just told me to find the police station and then find the field… I’ve discovered that this is how most South Africans give directions. They don’t use street names and they rarely use landmarks. Instead they say things like, “just go to Rhodepan and go to the soccer field.” Well when Rhodepan is an intricate maze of roads that seem to go on forever this is not too helpful. Trevor and I drove around for a good 45 minutes before we found Clifford on the side of the road and had him direct us to the field.

When we got to the field I looked around and noticed something odd… there were no girls. So I asked Clifford where my team was and he said they are playing later. And by later he meant after 3:00 but I didn’t find this out until it was 3:20 and we were finally starting our game. Another thing I’ve discovered about South Africans is that time is really a relative thing. 15 minutes likely means and hour and saying that kickoff is at noon means that kickoff might be at 3:00. I didn’t mind hanging around the field though. Trevor and I got to watch a couple of guys’ games and chat with a few people.

When 3 o’clock finally rolled around, I was stoked. I actually had butterflies in my stomach I was so excited. I followed Clifford into a garage to meet my team. It was then that I found out that I was going to be playing on an under-20 team. And even though they called it an under-20 team, the oldest person there (other than me) was 15. Starting to see how I got my hat trick?

But I wanted to play and Clifford said it was no problem so I took the field. I scored my first goal maybe 7 minutes into the game. I’ll admit, it was actually a pretty sweet goal. It had a good amount of power on it and it was close to the upper ninety. I got the biggest reaction from both the girls on my team and the sideline. All of my teammates ran up to me and gave me a complex high five thing, with which I struggled to get through, as per usual. And the sideline went crazy. I wasn’t there to hear it, but Trevor told me after the game that right away everyone started asking, “Who is the white lady?”

After I scored my first goal however, I decided I wasn’t going to shoot anymore. I also wasn’t going to straight up out run or dribble around any of these 12 – 15-year-olds just because I could.  Well Clifford didn’t like that too much. In fact I don’t really know what Clifford was looking for… When I had the ball he’d yell at me to be a team player and pass it, but then when I’d pass it he’d yell at me to shoot. There were a few times when I could have taken a shot but instead I chose to cross the ball. After the third time I did that he called me over to the sideline and told me I really needed to work on my aim. He was always nice was he was “coaching” me, but he didn’t quite seem to get that I felt really weird playing with young girls who weren’t quite at my level.

My team ended up winning 4-0. In South Africa, the players and the fans are all about victory celebrations. So as soon as the final whistle blew my teammates ran over to the corner of the field and started doing the “Street Boyz” celebration. It involves a lot of fist pumping and hip thrusting… and I’m not sure how else to describe it. They were all doing it and it looked like fun so I joined them. The sideline exploded with laughter and hoots. Even though it wasn’t the best soccer, and even though I felt a little bad about having scored three goals, that victory celebration was probably the highlight of my week. Next time, I’ll get Trevor to take a picture of it.  

ridiculousness and then some

There is only one word to describe today: crazy! Seriously, picture the most ridiculous social event you have been to in the last year and multiply the amount of ridiculousness by ten. That is what it is like to be with more than two South Africans at any time and today I was with over thirty.

Every Friday in Kimberley, all of the coaches, head coaches, site coordinators and interns attend a daylong development session. During the session the coaches reflect on the previous week, go over the interventions for the upcoming week, role-play different scenarios of what might happen next week and get paid. And in between every activity or during any down time all of the coaches will just spontaneously break into song and dance. It is the most entertaining thing to watch and the most fun thing to take part in. I promise that I will get a video of it next week and believe me – you will want to see this.

I walked into the recreation center where we hold these development sessions and I was instantly floored. There were at least twenty people in a giant circle clapping their hands, singing songs (a lot of which are call and repeat) and dancing. After a brief moment of hesitation I jumped into the circle and just tried to follow along. More than one person laughed at me, but I’ve learned that when they laugh at you it means they like what you are doing… I think… So after about 30 minutes of those shenanigans, which I might add were some of the most cardio-intense minutes of my life, everyone took a seat and the development session began. Right at the beginning I got to introduce myself. At the end of my introduction someone from the crowd yelled out, “Are you available?” Somehow, despite the recent sensory overload, I responded with a surprisingly witty, “it depends on who’s asking.” The room erupted with laughter, which again, I think is a good thing.

Shortly after I introduced myself, Thuso tapped me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him outside. I should have stayed inside because when we got outside he handed me the keys to the Tazz (our car) and made me drive. There are no words to describe what it feels like to drive a manual car for the first time on the wrong side of the road with your boss sitting right next to you. I spent that entire drive mentally coaching myself. Ease off the clutch while you accelerate. Ignore the terrible jerk of the car… you’ll get better. Now, clutch and shift to second. All right we’re turning. NO! Don’t turn into oncoming traffic! The left! The left! GET ON THE LEFT! Whew… Okay now accelerate. Let’s try third. Uh ohh… a stop sign… what do I do? Um… try neutral?

Somehow, I drove the 15 kilometers from the development session to the office and I only stalled twice. But the fun didn’t stop there. Oh no, because making me drive to the office was too easy, once we got there, Thuso realized he forgot his keys, so I had to turn around and repeat the trip all over again. And even after the traumatizing driving excursions, Thuso decided he’d give me another fun job; I got to walk down the street, from the bank to the office, carrying a bag of R3000 (1USD = R6.7). My third day on the job and already I was in charge of a week’s worth of salaries… I was terrified. But I got through the day, I got through more driving – I was even told that I picked up the driving better than Trevor (shocker!) and I was given the nickname “Blessings.” So all in all, not a bad day.

And after the day ended, the night began (you know – the same way it does in the US). We were invited to go out to a sports bar and watch Orlando Pirates vs. Black Leopards (the first match of the season) with some of the coaches. None of the coaches have cars, so when we want to hang out – or when we are invited out – we have to go pick all the coaches up. I don’t know what I was thinking, but for some reason I volunteered to be the designated driver. Boy was I in for a treat. We drove out to Rhodepan (one of the townships) and picked up Robert, Graham and Mzala. Remember when I mentioned that having more than two South Africans together leads to ridiculousness? Well put three South Africans in a small car after they have been drinking and BAM! The funniest part about the entire drive was how they reacted to my driving. Whenever I had a rough start or I had trouble shifting gears, the car would naturally jerk and/or make a bit of a grumbly noise and as soon as this happened the coaches would all get deathly silent and you could almost hear them praying that this little white girl wasn’t going to kill them.

I didn’t kill them and we made it to the sports bar. It was just like any other sports bar really – a bit grungy, and filled with guys, smoke and beer. I got a 660mL Castle Lite. Yes, they sell their beer in 660 mL bottles and it costs only R12 (a little less than 2USD). Castle Lite however, is just that – light. It’s 4% alcohol by volume and kind of tastes like water. But it’s cheap, right?

It was a fun night. We met quite a few people and on more than one occasion I felt like a bit of a celebrity. Or maybe attraction is a better word. But all I had to do when someone approached me was talk about soccer, smile, and say, “baie dankie” (thank you in Afrikaans) a few times and I was golden. A couple guys approached me at one point and said that if anyone bothered me I just had to tell them and they would handle it. A few other people came up to us and said they were so happy we were there visiting them in their homes and in their bars. Just like anywhere in the world, the people here are mostly good. Sure there are a few bad eggs (I haven’t met any yet, thank goodness) but for the most part when people steal or break the law here it is so they can get by. I have officially decided that I really like it here. It’s new, but it’s a good kind of new. It’s different, but it’s a good kind of different. It’s crazy, but it’s a good kind of crazy. 

Rimoho! Rikafela!

Today Trevor and I went to a Skillz intervention. GRS uses the term “Skillz” to refer to the programs that we run. Each program consists of 10 – 12 sessions, or interventions, in which two coaches visit a school and give a lesson to a group of students. The format of these interventions is really cool. First, all of the coaches are local high school or college graduates. By using local people as coaches, GRS is able to take a sustainable approach towards molding community role models and leaders in the fight against HIV. The other really cool part of the interventions is that in all of them, analogies are drawn between soccer and real life in order to teach the kids about life skills and HIV.

The intervention that we went to is called Generation Skillz and it is for students who are in secondary school (ages 15 – 19). It was really interesting to watch the intervention because at the end of the day, South African high school students are pretty similar to high school students anywhere else in the world. There were some who are eager to learn and actively participate; there are others who listen in but don’t really say much; others just dick around in the background; and still others crack jokes so that they can be the center of attention.

GRS coaches use simple soccer activities to convey messages about HIV and it seemed that the particular activity the coaches were doing today wasn’t really gripping the attention of many of the students. But at the end of the intervention, all of the coaches came together and they talked about what went well and what didn’t. I am glad that I got to witness this exchange because all of the coaches were open and honest about what happened. One of the coaches, Necy (who I really like), made an excellent point though; she said that these interventions really tested her patience, but she knew that it was a time when she had to just stick it out, be patient and lead by example. She then said that at the end of the day, if she was able to just reach one kid, then it was all worth it. Hearing each of the coaches acknowledge how difficult the intervention had been and hearing them also recognize that at the end of the day they were there for the kids was really inspiring.

The day ended on a really high note as we drove through the township in order to get back to the office. Throughout the entire drive kids would see our car pass, they would recognize the bright yellow t-shirts we were all wearing and then they would shout out, “Rimoho!” to which we would respond, “Rikafela!” Rimoho means ‘are we together’ and rikafela means ‘we are one.’ These are the call-and-response phrases that the coaches use during interventions in order to grab the kids’ attention. Hearing the kids yell out these phrases as we drove by made me not only see that GRS is having a positive impact on the community, but it also made me feel welcome. 

Bfana Bfana vs. The Stallions

I hate the cold. When there is snow on the ground it’s tolerable, but when it’s just cold, it sucks. Seriously, everyone out there who claims to love the cold, try living in a place where the temperature drops down to 40 each night in a house that has no heat and no insulation and then tell me how much you love the cold. In fact, come visit me next June when it is winter here and you can give it a try (and on that note visitors are welcome anytime). Yeah, so in case you can’t tell, it gets cold here.

Mornings are especially rough. As most of you already know, I am not a morning person and it is inadvisable to talk to me right after I wake up. Now, just imagine how pleasant I am when I have to wake up at 7:30 a.m. and leave the warmth of my 15-degree down sleeping bag (yes that is what I have been sleeping in) in order to change in a freezing room that doesn’t warm up until 1:00 p.m. if you are lucky. But winter is ending here so hopefully the blistering cold won’t last too much longer and I’m sure that before long I’ll be complaining about how hot it is. 

Today we went to the GRS office to meet the Site Coordinator, Mandla, and start our Kimberley Orientation. My favorite part of the day was when Mandla let Trevor and I write our own job descriptions (sort of). Some of the things that I am going to be helping out with this year include the finances, office management, and Skillz Street, which is the all girls program. There will also be a lot of driving, paperwork and some not so fun moments… but right now I’m pretty stoked!

Mandla and Thuso took us out to lunch. We went to this little place that is located right behind the taxi stand in town. On the way there Mandla said that we were going to be eating intestines. Trevor immediately said, “Bring it on!” I didn’t say anything because I was pretty sure they were joking, but then Mbumbii (the intern from Namibia) told us that the intestines of a cow are the best part – they are so good in fact that when his father slaughters a cow back home he doesn’t share the intestines with anybody. Now I was really confused… so I remained quiet and was promptly mocked for not saying anything. I’m making friends? Anywho, we didn’t end up eating intestines. Lunch was bried (barbequed) cow, bap (maize meal (aka corn meal)) and some other stuff. It was good.

When we went home at the end of the day we stopped by our landlord’s house in order to pick up an extra set of keys and we were invited in for drinks. Our landlords are Johann and Hilda (very South African names no?) and they have three children and four dogs – win! The best part of the night was when Johann and I talked about DeBeers and the mining history of the town. Johann said that I can dig anywhere in the town and find kimberlite! Kimberlite is a type of rock that forms when lava cools and it is the rock that diamonds are found in! Johann also gave me permission to dig anywhere in the yard. This is fantastic begins it means that I will be able to geology-geek out to my hearts content. It also means I’ll be able to bring lots of rocks home, and all of you know how much I like to do that.

We ended the night by watching South Africa’s national soccer team, Bafana Bafana, play Namibia’s national soccer team, the Stallions. Mbumbii spent half the time hating on the South African team (because he is from Namibia, remember?) and the other half of the time pointing out players that play for the Orlando Pirates. The Orlando Pirates are one of the South African teams and their big rivals are the Kaiser Chiefs. Every time we meet a new coach they ask us whether we support the Pirates or the Chiefs. And opposing supporters can go on for hours about why you should favor one team or another. It really is true – here, soccer is religion. 

Yebo!

Dumelang from Kimberley! It only took one flight across the Atlantic, a nine-hour layover in London, an 11-hour flight to South Africa, a quick dash through the Johannesburg airport and a short ride on a plane that felt like it’s propeller was going to fall off at any minute before Trevor (my roommate) and I arrived safely – luggage and all – in Kimberley, South Africa. We were a little stiff and a little tired, but excited and ready (yebo) to begin our adventure in South Africa.

GRS interns storm London during our layover.

The Assistant Site Coordinator, Thuso, and one of the coaches, Robert, met us at the airport. They drove us to our apartment so we could drop off our bags and meet our housemate, Mbumbii. Mbumbii is fantastic! He grew up in Namibia and is currently studying mechanical engineering at Dartmouth University (where Grassroot Soccer was founded).  He wanted to learn more about how NGO’s operate so he secured a summer internship with GRS. Mbumbii is a terrific resource; he has been showing Trevor and I the ropes and teaching us Afrikaans. I can already tell that I am going to miss him when he leaves in a month.

After meeting Mbumbii, our grand tour of Kimberley began. We drove all around town, visited both of the town’s shopping malls and passed the town’s main attraction, the Big Hole (I’ll talk more about this after I visit it) all in just 45 minutes! And that pretty much sums up the city of Kimberley. Not very big, definitely a place where you make your own fun, but I feel like I got good at that after living in Williamsburg for four years so bring it on Kimberley, bring it on.

Kimberley itself is an interesting city. It’s located in the middle of nowhere and is surrounded by desert on all sides. It is also one of the last Afrikaner “strongholds” in South Africa and I’ve been told that there are still people in Kimberley that favor apartheid. A former intern told me that she met an Afrikaner who told her that god gave black people HIV for a reason… I’m hoping I don’t meet anyone like that. But at least I am not the only white girl in the city.

Once we enter the townships however, a lot changes. Roads go from being wide and paved to being nothing but narrow bits of dirt and rock. Houses are noticeably smaller and closer together and the roofs are all pretty ramshackle-looking. It is definitely interesting to contrast the predominantly white areas with the townships. One thing that is the same in both the city and the townships however, is the fences; every house, no matter how small, is surrounded by a fence that is topped with either metal spikes, barbed wire, broken bits of metal or some other unfriendly looking item.

Trevor, Mbumbii, Robert (one of the coaches) and I spent the entire afternoon driving through the various townships. Robert is hilarious! He is talkative, animated, opinionated, and very knowledgeable on matters such as beer (as our most south Africans). Robert took us to meet a bunch of the coaches. They all have great names – there’s Jibbly, Imzala, Cheese Guy (who is actually a girl), Coach K and many more. Meeting each of the coaches was an adventure in itself.  All of them want to shake your hand when they first meet you. But it’s not a simple meeting of hands. Oh no, it is a complicated process whereby grips are exchanged, fingers are interlocked and thumbs “snap” each other. It took me at least 12 times to get it right. Each time I’d be going in for the handshake I’d over-analyze what I was doing because I was worried about messing up, and then sure enough – I’d mess up. It didn’t help that every coach has his or her own spin on the “basic” handshake. Just when I thought that I had the whole hand thing down someone would throw something new into the mix and I would be lost again. Oh and then when you say goodbye you have to do the whole thing all over again. Don’t get me wrong – I really like it. I just wish I wasn’t so awkward at it…

My favorite thing about driving around today was that we couldn’t drive more than five minutes without seeing something soccer related. Not only does everyone wear Manchester United and Arsenal and Bfana Bfana soccer jerseys, but also everywhere you look someone is doing something with a soccer ball. I really understand how GRS is able to use soccer as a hook here and the prevalence of soccer throughout the community likely helps to reinforce the messages that coaches are telling their kids. It has only been one day, but I am very excited to involve myself in the process and help out in any way I can. Yebo!

(Also, I haven’t taken any pictures yet, but when I do I’ll add them to the appropriate blog pages. So keep checking in and don’t just look at the most recent blog post. Thanks and uns wa saam!)

can i get a KILO!!!

Four days ago my parents dropped me off at Pierce's Inn in Hanover, NH for my orientation. I was terrified - but not because I was leaving for Africa for a year. No, I was terrified that while saying goodbye I would burst into tears in front of the 24 other interns who were milling about. Just imagine - I would go from being "the soccer chick on crutches who exploded a lasagna" (thanks Katie) to "the chick who showed up in her parents' BMW and bawled for hours." Wow. Great way to meet people. So in light of the circumstances, I gave my parents quick good-byes and literally pushed them into the car (sorry Mom and Dad). But alas, I was victorious - I had survived the first 5 minutes of orientation without crying. Only 5755 more minutes to go...

I joined the crowd of interns milling about and although I didn't let it show, I was definitely wondering what on earth I had just gotten myself into. But my doubts and nervousness were quickly alleviated. Team Awesome, the three fantastic GRS staff members who were in charge of the intern orientation led us to a cabin in the woods. The other interns and I spent the first two days of orientation chilling, hiking, sharing stories and team-building. We also got to meet GRS coaches from Malawi and play some of the games that kids going through GRS programs play. The last two days of orientation were spent in discussions/ sessions where I learned all about HIV prevention and treatment, the GRS mission and best of all, what I will actually be doing next year! Sort of... All of the other interns are fantastic. Their hearts are in the right place and after meeting them I feel even better about the upcoming year.

The 2011-2012 GRS Interns and our Orientation Leaders, "Team Awesome".

Now, prepare yourself. I am going to tell you about one of the best parts of training and let you in on one of GRS's coolest traditions. The "kilo!" A kilo is an entity unique to GRS, so if you are visiting South Africa and you want to appear like a local, do not go around giving out kilos because unless someone is a part of GRS they will have no idea what you are doing. But that doesn't matter. Kilos are awesome; they are an innovative and energetic way to give someone props for doing something. So for example, let's say that I, as is common, do something awesome. Someone who witnessed my feat of greatness might shout out, "Can I get a kilo!" In this situation, kilo will be pronounced keeee-lo. The first syllable is dragged out so that the kilo caller can catch everyone's attention. After the kilo call is made, everyone will clap three times in quick succession, clap three more times in quick succession, and then shout woooo and point in the direction of the person being kilo'd. 

So let's say that I scored the winning goal in a pick-up soccer game. One of my teammates would say:

"Can I get a keeee-lo!"

Then the whole group:

clap clap clap

clap clap clap

(points at me) WOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Us, in the middle of a kilo.

Okay so this still might be a hard concept to grasp, but try to imagine an entire group of your closest friends giving you a kilo when you win a game of beer pong. It would be pretty cool with all that positive energy flying your way, right? Now imagine a group of 14-year-old kids in the middle of a soccer pitch giving each other kilos when they answer a question about HIV correctly. Or when a coach gets a group to give a kilo to a young kid for having the courage to speak up during a discussion about HIV prevention and treatment. Motivational? I sure think so. 

And that is what GRS does. GRS has developed a curriculum that motivates and empowers youth. Our programs teach them about HIV prevention and treatment and also help these kids develop basic life skills. How do we do this? We enlist the help of local people who have the ability to be role models to young kids in their communities to act as coaches and teach them our curriculum. These coaches then go in to schools and run interventions for children. During these interventions, GRS uses soccer as the "hook" to get kids excited about learning. We use soccer games and activities to interest the kids and then draw analogies between soccer and real life situations. And GRS has developed some pretty awesome games (my favorite is Breakaway - I promise to write about it later)! So where do I fit in? I do anything and everything I can to help GRS coaches develop strong relationships with the kids they are working with so that the kids will get the most out of our programs. This means that I might get to head to the fields and monitor and evaluate interventions in order to give coaches feedback. This means that I might be in an office keeping attendance records. This means I may get to visit schools and ask if we can run our programs for their kids. This means I will get to participate in brainstorming sessions that seek to improve our programs. This means that I will be busy. And ultimately this means that I am in for a wild ride this upcoming year. But I sure do feel ready!

This video (above) gives you a glimpse of some our programs in action. It is also incredibly inspirational and will hopefully let you see why GRS and I are doing what we're doing. 

seventeen soccer balls

Two weeks ago I began a 7-day, 1300-mile camping trip. I spent my days driving through mountains, scrambling over rocks and playing in creeks. I spent my nights eating camp food, drinking good beer and taking in my surroundings. And best of all, I got paid to do all of that. I won’t go in to what exactly I was doing because most of you will 1. make fun of me for being a geo geek, 2. find that really boring, and 3. because I could write an entire blog dedicated just to my geologic exploits, but I will say that if you want the best job ever, then you should become a geologist.

After an exhausting week in Virginia’s back country I returned to Williamsburg, packed up my apartment, said “see ya later” to some of my closest friends and made the familiar drive to northern Virginia one more time. Then I had one week to get my visa and pack for South Africa. The quest for my visa was miserable. Have you ever played a game with a four-year-old? One of those games that they make up where no matter what you do they always win? And even when you play by the rules and copy their every move, you still can’t catch a break? Well getting a visa is worse. There was blood, there was sweat, and there was almost even a bribe, and still my visa was denied.

Then there was packing. And because my parents are beginning a large construction project on our house I didn’t just have to pack for South Africa, but I also had to pack up my entire room. 17 soccer balls, 22 boxes and 3 suitcases later, I was packed. I thought it was very fitting that I found 17 soccer balls in my room. Some were gifts from old coaches, others from kids that I had coached, and still others I had a weird emotional attachment to… I saved 7 and donated the rest to my friend’s service trip.

The rest of my stuff went into 22 boxes and 3 suitcases. 21 years of my life fit in to just 22 boxes and 3 suitcases. It’s a little sad because it made me realize just how small and insignificant I am. But mostly, I looked at those 22 boxes and got really excited because they, more than anything, helped me realize that I am at a point in my life where I have no attachments to anything. I can go just about anywhere and do just about anything that I want to, and I am really excited to be doing just that!

So, after 7 days camping, 3 days packing, 17 soccer balls, 22 boxes, 3 suitcases and 1 highway drive, I left Virginia. I spent one more night with my family in Massachusetts swapping stories, eating pizza and watching the Sox game. Oh, and my visa came. All in all, it was a good way to end a great summer.