Molweni

'Molweni' is Xhosa for "hello everyone." It's one of a handful of various Xhosa phrases that I am learning in my time volunteering to tutor third graders as a part of the program SHAWCO. It's a really cool program that's been around for around 40 years, even in the darkest days of apartheid. It's a way for UCT students like myself to learn how a great number of South Africans live. SHAWCO seeks to offer educational and medical services, among other things, to many of Cape Town's townships.  Out of the various projects and locations available, that range from teaching high schoolers about the environment to forming  a cricket league, I have chosen to tutor third graders in math and english in Khayelitsha on Wednesday afternoons. 

Khayelitsha means "new town" in Xhosa, and was formed as a direct result of the land reform acts that separated Cape Town and South Africa into racially arranged allotments.  The black townships like Khayelitsha were placed on some of the most poorly resourced land, receiving little or no help from the South African government. White and coloured townships were granted more, showing apartheid's destructive race bias. It is easy to see. White South Africa lives in nicely furnished apartments and homes like mine, with indoor plumbing and electricity. Coloured townships like Bonteheuwel and Kensington are impoverished, but have houses built on solid foundations; some made of bricks and stucco, others with fenced-in and nicely maintained lawns. Khayelitsha, Langa, Nyanga, and other black townships consists of houses and shops made from corrugated aluminum, tin, and particle board. The houses are like brightly colored tin dominos, leaning so heavily on one another to the point that if one fell, many would follow. Running water is rare, men piss on the street, and dogs are everywhere. I don't mean to romanticize or demonize this place, where 1.2 million Capetonians make their homes.  It's just what I see out of the big windows of the converted tour bus that SHAWCO uses to bring its volunteers into places like Mannenberg and Khayelitsha. I would never get to see this place any other way. There are thing like township tours where groups of tourists walk through the townships and gawk at the abject poverty and give the kids sweets, but I haven't reconciled myself with the idea of poverty as a tourist attraction. 

Perhaps the most surprising thing about Khayelitsha is how content its residents are. Maybe content isn't the word- I don't know. This is where their families are. Yes, there is crime. This is the neighborhood they have grown up in, in the midst of AIDS and its crushing destructiveness. I see red ribbons painted on walls covered over and again with graffiti, and there is beauty and danger in everything here. Cell phone stores are built up within the metal huts and grocery counters sit with a certain poise upon rotting wood. 

The bus drops me off in front of the SHAWCO building, where kids are running playfully and greeting me with huge and curious smiles. They're in their uniforms from school, and I wonder at how they can wear the thick wool sweaters in the late summer heat. I have volunteered to work with a third grade class, and I walk into the common room where the children have been waiting for our arrival. Since my kids are young, their English is thin at best, but I am fortunate to have been paired with a girl named Cynthia, a first year at UCT, who is fluent in Zulu, which shares much in common with Xhosa. We've had a couple really funny moments when something means one thing in Zulu, and another in Xhosa, and all of the kids giggle because Cynthia has said something like "pee" inadvertently. There are about fourteen kids in our class, roughly half boys and half girls. As usual, I have bonded with the boys before the girls. There is Buhle, Wanda, Lundi, Sinethemba, Sinesepo, Khayefelang, Linda, and others. I love Sinesepo's name; it means "we have hope." He's a crazy little boy, who does all of the little boy things. He's really smart and blows me away every lesson. I would love to get some pictures of them, they're all really adorable and affectionate. They have me laughing pretty much the entire lesson. I find myself wanting to go outside and play with them instead of doing subtraction. At the end of our lesson last time, Cynthia had them sing the South African national anthem, and I thought I was going to die for the cuteness. Thanks to the almighty Wikipedia, here are the lyrics. The first verse is Xhosa, the second is Zulu, the third is Afrikaans, and the fourth is English. 

Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo, Yizwa imithandazo yethu, Nkosi sikelela, thina lusapho lwayo.

Morena boloka setjhaba sa heso, O fedise dintwa la matshwenyeho, O se boloke, O se boloke setjhaba sa heso, Setjhaba sa South Afrika - South Afrika.

Uit die blou van onse hemel, Uit die diepte van ons see, Oor ons ewige gebergtes, Waar die kranse antwoord gee,

Sounds the call to come together, And united we shall stand, Let us live and strive for freedom,

In South Africa our land.    

And a translation?

Lord, bless Africa May her spirit rise high up Hear thou our prayers Lord bless us.

Lord, bless Africa Banish wars and strife Lord, bless our nation Of South Africa.

Ringing out from our blue heavens From our deep seas breaking round Over everlasting mountains Where the echoing crags resound ...