english-latin, latin-english

Adventures, of course, as we shall see, were of daily occurrence… He often went out alone, and when he came back you were never absolutely certain whether he had had an adventure or not. He might have forgotten it so completely that he said nothing about it; and then when you went out you found the body; and, on the other hand, he might say a great deal about it, and yet you could not find the body… To describe all (the adventures) would require a book as large as an English-Latin, Latin-English Dictionary.
--J. M. Barrie, in Peter Pan

And so, in the potential fear that I, like Peter Pan, may forget some of my other adventures, I feel compelled to put them to paper. Let this be another of many entries into my dictionary, but by no means do any of these entries encompass the totality of my experience.

Tuesday was an utterly horrendous day. I finally got a hold of the Auto Mall in East London that currently has Manuel and asked for a very specific update. I was told that my car was at a private consultant because it seemed as though the dif/differential was broken as well, and they were waiting for parts to arrive from France. To top it off, the replacement of the clutch had not happened, and that, I was previously told, was a 9 ½ hour, 3-day job. It was Tuesday. The day that I AM coming to fetch Manuel is Monday, May 11th. It seemed rather improbable to me. I got off the phone, and had one of those I-am-at-a-loss, what-can-I-do cries on Sarah’s bed. A good half-hour later, once I had controlled my sobs, I bumbled back to my computer and drafted an email to my Rotarians in Mthatha explaining the situation.

Within an hour or two, Graham was on the phone with East London, asking real questions and getting real answers. As it turns out, the problem was not my clutch, it was not my sump, it was not my engine, it was not my dif. It was, however, the drive shaft. And all that was needed was a small disk that was easily custom-made and delivered to the Auto Mall the next morning at 9:05am. Manuel was patched up and on the road by that afternoon, riding nicely… until the fan belt broke. But that, too, has been fixed, and my little Manuel is ready to be collected on Monday. Finally.

Tomorrow, Friday, I am off to Pietermaritzburg for the annual Rotary District Conference. Sunday morning it is off to Mthatha with Sharron and Graham, then I will drive back to Durban on Tuesday early morning. It is quite the whirlwind trip, covering quite a substantial portion of South African coastline. Hopefully I will find some good radio stations.

I have to be back so soon on Tuesday due to the class that I am teaching. This is my second class so far. My first was a group of first year varsity students, and we did a module on play-building and improvisation. We created a 15-minute piece about violence against women and the choices that women make when faced with situations of domestic oppression. This current tutorial is with second-years and our project is centered around Theatre for Development. Next Saturday, May 16th, we will present our piece at the Westville Women’s Prison, just outside of Durban. It is a day of popular participatory theatre; our piece must pose questions and then provide structure for interaction and conversation around the issue. The 15-minute plays/conversations derive focus from the topic of “exploitation.” My students have decided to focus on the cyclical nature of exploitation, in that, we all have the power to exploit someone else. Right now, the piece lacks focus and does not pose clear questions. My role next Tuesday will be a tough one, in that I have to focus the work and remove all of the visceral physical violence that the students want to include and replace that action with equally, if not more so, provocative images and stylistic gestures. It is a huge challenge; because I am teaching on my own, because the structure of the project is not something that I have created, and because I am, for the first time, teaching in a bilingual classroom and expected to produce bilingual theatre.

Today is also the beginning of a new potential project. Yesterday and a Rotarian named John took me for the first time into a township. We went into Cato Crest, an area that sits just down the hill from the varsity, and juts right up against the rich white subdivision. It felt horrendous driving through this informal settlement in a huge white 4 by 4. The settlement looks kind of romantic with the big blooming trees scattered about, but the reality of the situation is that these people do not have running water, electricity, their homes are built out of sharp pieces of scrap metal and held together by a few broken pieces of brick. A well-directed wind could knock rows of these houses over like dominoes. Small malnourished children dart in the small pathways between the shacks, and women gather at the water taps, letting the water run and run and run. What does it matter, they are not paying for it.

John and I ended up in the Cato Crest Library, a beautiful facility, comparable perhaps to the Evanston Public Library or Eva Perry in North Carolina. It is spacious and well-kempt. Books line every wall, and colorful pictures of book characters tower above. Here, you can read, browse the internet, hold meetings… stage plays.

John cornered a woman named Nafeesah, the senior librarian and started quizzing her about adult literacy programs. Nafeesah agreed, but also argued that a love for reading needs to begin when children are in cresh, day-care. I piped in and suggested drama/literacy programs for youth. Nafeesah and I just kept going, throwing ideas around, until John finally said that perhaps we should set an official meeting to talk about these ideas.

So, today at 8:30am we all gathered back in the beautiful Cato Crest Library and spoke specifically about our ideas. As it turns out, a Ms. Bhengu, a teacher at the adjoining secondary school came to Nafeesah looking for a new way to encourage English learning for her Grade 10 students. She spoke of how timid the students are at speaking English with their teachers, and she stated that an outside program could be key. Nafeesah is convinced that I may be that missing link, and I am willing to try. So, Nafeesah, Ms Bhengu and I have a meeting set for next Thursday where we will talk realistically and see if something cannot develop: A drama and literacy program for youth.

In addition, I have just been asked by Harold, my Ndumo professor/supervisor, if I might be interested in heading up a program, similar in structure to the Ndumo project, in South Durban with Grade 11 youth.

These possibilities are so vital, so exciting. Time will tell what is possible and what is not. But I am thrilled that opportunities are arising to do real practical work in communities.

In a completely different vein, I went to my first rugby game this past weekend. It was Karina’s 40th birthday, so Sarah and I planned a 4-day birthday event, from dinners to dancing to rugby to Frisbee. Rugby is an awesome game, and really re-defines for me the notion of man-power. Testosterone flows, in the players and in the spectators. I screamed, I yelled, I jumped, I groaned. And I don’t even understand the sport.

Also in the sport world, every Sunday at 3:30pm I play Ultimate Frisbee. It is the highlight of my weekend, consistently. The oddest group of people comes to play, from students to professors, from 7 year olds to senior executives of major Durban corporations. We are of a plethora of skill levels and intensities, but we find a harmony in the game, in running, and sweating, and sometimes bleeding.

All in all, I am still enchanted and in awe of this place called Durban in this country called South Africa. My life is becoming fuller and richer by the day and I cannot even comprehend yet the things that I am learning. And, perhaps I will announce now, that I do plan on staying in South Africa through 2010. There is so much to experience here that a short year cannot encompass. And so I’ve made a choice: the choice to stay. And I am going to love it.