I was thinking today that it has been quite a while since I posted to this blog in leisure... so perhaps it is time for me to share some of my ponderings.
For quite some time I have been thinking about the simple poverty of the wonderful people that surround me. And more than that, I have been thinking about the blindness that is bred into the wealthy so they don't see a problem in their fellow South Africans' way of life. And yet, despite this divide, there is such politeness here, such manners. There is a wonderful sense of respect and propriety. Not everyone carries this sensibility, but the good seem to outnumber the bad. Even when you encounter a beggar on the street, he or she will start by saying something incredibly polite, "excuse me, lady, but may I ask you a question?" The contradictory nature of this question is a bit comical if you think about it, but still--very polite.
amaAmbush Marimbas is located in the Azaad Independent Youth Services Center in District Six. Now, for those of you who have not been to Cape Town, District Six is an area just outside the city center where a township community was brutally evicted. Because of the racism and terror that are a part of South Africa's past, this site has become a memorial to the problems facing the country. Much of the district remains open land, grassy space with the remnants of paved roads in places, but it isn't really cared for by anyone. There is a rickety wooden sign as you walk past one of these grassy areas notifying the public that this site has been selected for a memorial park to commemorate the struggle. The sign reads "A nation of people, not races" and everyday I think about how the sign's state of disrepair erodes its real message. But I have been distracted from my original purpose in describing District Six. The area itself is not very safe because there is all this open land--meaning no houses or shops. Across the road on my walk to work is the City Campus of Cape Peninsula University of Technology, but it doesn't really improve the safety of the area because it is simply a long fence from the street I commute on.
When you meet someone on the road in this area, you take a good look at them. Most of the time when I don't trust someone walking towards me I simply cross the road and take myself out of their way. But sometimes you get so caught up in being cautious and mistrusting people. I know that every now and then I simply need to remind myself that the good people outnumber the bad ones and that all I really need to do is keep smiling and saying hello to the people who deserve a bit of kindness.
The other day I met someone who completely backed up this belief. I was walking away from Azaad when I was overtaken on the sidewalk by a dark-skinned man pushing a toddler in a small stroller. The first thing I thought of was, 'is this a gimmick? Is he going to mug me while I'm thinking how cute his boy is?' Instead of an undercover mugger, he turned out to be a very nice man named Matthew. He first said hello and asked me about Azaad, as he had just seen the students leaving for the day and was curious about the center. Now, Azaad is run-down enough that I think anyone would be curious about it after seeing loads of teenagers leaving... it just doesn't look nice enough to be a university. But anyway, we started chatting about Azaad and he asked me what I taught there. So the conversation turned to the marimba and we talked about traditional music and Zimbabwean music, and it turns out that he has family in Zim. And then he asked me what I was doing in SA and I asked about his family, and in the end we had a very nice chat. Surprisingly, he even offered to give me the address of his family in Zimbabwe so that I would have a safe place to stay if I visited. What a nice guy! And I was worried about being mugged.
Now, for those of you who are worried that I will be jumping into a car to race off to Zimbabwe with a guy I hardly know, don't fret! I am (surprisingly) a bit smarter than that. But I think it's an excellent example of the kindness that exists here on an everyday basis. It's so different than back home, where we never would have had that conversation at all, and certainly not ended it with such a generous offer.
Azaad offers another example of the daily kindness of South Africans in the most unlikely place! My students are rough characters there, but they are so polite to me. Even though sometimes they're typical teenagers and talking during your explanations or joking around in the corridors, they will still turn around and say hello when I approach, ask me how I'm doing, or offer to hold the door. Now, perhaps that's because I'm a marimba teacher and not an English or Math teacher, but I think it is because these students understand the concept of respect. Even when they don't act respectfully towards you, they at least know what they're doing... although that doesn't make disrespectful behavior any less disrespectful!
Everyone I have talked to at Azaad worries about how I will cope with the classes. It's funny, really, because I haven't really had any serious trouble with them at all. Over and over, teachers, marimba folks, the cooks, caretakers, etc. tell me that these students are "a rough bunch" and ask me how it's going for me--in such a tone of concern. Maybe they think I can't handle the gangsters... and maybe I can't. But the wonderful part about it is that the students themselves take care of me too. I don't know how I have managed to come off as a delicate little thing, but my students really try to help me by managing their unruly peers and letting me know when someone's trying to pull a fast one on me. The classes I get are almost always engaged by the marimba, with at most a few that are indifferent musicians or troublemakers. And the ones that are really involved understand that the screw-ups only take away from their chance to play and learn marimba. I don't think that any of them will ever read this blog, but I hope that they know how much I respect them for having the guts to stand up to their peers. That is the hardest thing to teach back home...and I know that helping me with a class isn't the same as holding up to peer pressure involving gangs or drugs or anything, but it is a step in the right direction. Maybe it is my youth that makes them want to help me. Maybe it's that I'm short, female, white, blonde-ish, etc... but whatever it is, I sure appreciate their help and respect them for it.
Every now and then I will meet a random person on the street who turns out to be absolutely wonderful, and it will remind me to have a bit more faith in people. Although safety is a concern here, I think we can get too caught up in it. Do you ever wonder if the people you meet on the side of the road can tell what you're thinking? Sometimes I wonder what my face is telling people. When I squint in the sunlight, do I look stressed or afraid of them? When I'm tired, do I look arrogant or bored? You never know when the person you encounter on the road might be a mugger, but you also never know who they are at all. Maybe that person will grow up to cure cancer or AIDS. Maybe they will be the next Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. You can't know if they deserve your inadvertant glower or grimace, so why not smile and say hello?
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