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.

shots shots shots shots

I hate shots. Not the kind that LMFAO jams about cause I can handle them just fine. But the kind of shots that go in your arm are a whole other story. Whoever decided that the best way to administer medicine was by jamming needles into people's arms had a real twisted sense of humor. When I was younger if anyone so much as mentioned the word shot in my presence tears would just start rolling down my cheeks. And all the promises of stickers and lollipops did nothing to stem their flow or stop my screaming. Yep, I put on such great performances that I always left the doctor's office with the most colorful Band-Aids, a handful of stickers and pockets overflowing with candy.

But when you are twenty-one and have just graduated College tears are simply not allowed when you are given a shot. And no one is going to offer you 'good shot' rewards afterwards either. So when I walked into the Williamsburg Travel Clinic I was more than a little apprehensive about what I was walking in to.

Upon entering the door I was greeted by a little old lady and handed a clip board with just one sheet of paper on it. One sheet! Can you believe that? At most doctor's offices I've been ordered to write a small book before anyone would even look at me. Then, after writing said book, I am used to getting shunted into a room that is often painfully decorated and told, "The nurse will be right in." Yeah, right. Thirty minutes later when the nurse finally graces me with her presence, she sits down in front of me and begins asking the same questions, which, had she bothered to read my recent book, she would know all the answers to. But no, the nurse prefers to hear the answers straigth from my mouth and scribble them down in her own illegible handwriting for the doctor. Then after another stretch of waiting, Dr. I Don't Need to Read I Have Minions to Do That For Me, comes in and asks all of the same questions again.

But at the travel clinic, I was pleasently suprised. I filled out my one form in just two minutes, handed it to Dr. Nikki, and watched as she actually read and retained the information written on it! Then Dr. Nikki invited me into her office and got straight to business. No waiting. No shuffling through boring magazines. And none of those annoying personal questions about may life that all doctor's feel entitled to ask. My personal favorite of those is the, "So, do you have a boyfriend?" When I say no, there's the abrupt "Oh..." followed by nervous laughter. Sometimes I like to mess with the doctors. "Well my girlfriend's name is Suzie and she's great." That always evokes some fantastic reactions. Or there's the, "why don't you ask your wife?" Just kidding, I've never actually said those things outloud... but I've thought about it.

But Dr. Nikki did none of that routine crap. Instead she gave me a glass of water and some cookies to munch on while she told me all about the various diseases that are a problem in different parts of Africa. We then poured over my immunization records and she gave me tons of information about general health practices while in Africa. I learned about the preferred malaria medications, was told that if I couldn't peel a fruit or vegetable then I shouldn't eat it, and was given a 72-page document full of health information for all of southern and central Africa. She also made me show her how I wash my hands. I got an A-plus on hand washing.

And then came the shots. Four of them. Hepatitis A and polio (which unfortunately does still exist in Africa and eastern Europe) in my right arm. Yellow fever and typhoid in my left. It was grueling. Before each shot Nikki swabbed my slightly sunburnt arms with rubbing alcohol using a surprising amount fo strength for a woman who is probably pushing 70. Then there was the slight 'pressure' that came with each shot. And yellow fever carried a nasty sting with it too. But I made it. I didn't shed a single tear and it took less than two minutes for all four shots. Best doctor's visit ever. Nikki wished me luck, gave me a hug (she was a hugger), and sent me on my way. As I left the doctor's office I made two decisions; first, maybe shots (and doctors) really aren't that bad, and second, my display of true grit meritted a reward. I went to McDonald's and ordered an M&M McFlurry and it was so much better than lollipops and stickers ever were.