Category Archives: Race and Ethnicity

Somos Juntos – We Are Together

 

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes

I wasn’t sure what to expect when Christmas break arrived. I’d spent the last two months adjusting to living with new people and having a new work schedule and now I was going to be the only volunteer left in a three-bedroom apartment. The apartment felt eerily quiet. At first, I enjoyed dancing around the apartment without having anyone around, but by the third day I started to feel like a mad-woman. Working with the children and Face-Timing my loved ones just wasn’t enough. The idea of Christmas in Barcelona was the only thing keeping me going at that point.

However, the 20th of December lifted my spirits. It was the last day of work but also the day I would sing Christmas songs with the children. When I arrived, I was elated by the presence of all the children and their families. The school was giving out hot chocolate and pastries. There was music playing and a do-it-yourself (DIY) photo booth. I no longer felt unsure of how my Christmas would feel. I’ve never felt more at peace than with the children and their families. It reassured my purpose in life and my intentions within my career, which is to consciously engage and have direct relationships with the groups and individuals I work with.

That day was magical! When the time came to sing Christmas songs with my children, all the teachers and families gathered around us to listen. I grabbed my ukulele, counted to three, and my little ones sang “Feliz Navidad,” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” It was the sweetest thing I could have ever experienced. I was close to tears as I watched my class smile and sing along. Their eyes were filled with such love as they looked to me to guidance. It has been such an honor to be a part of their lives. They have made me a better person and I love those children more than I can express.

After we finished, the crowd asked me to do a speech. Oh, my lanta. Ha, I was nervous but I got through it. The teachers then proceeded to ask families from different countries to sing a Christmas song in their language. We were a family, enjoying and respecting each other’s’ cultures; from Spanish, Moroccan, Nigerian, to Gujarati and more. It was the beginning of the best Christmas ever.

On the 23rd of December, I traveled to Barcelona to meet my Second cousin and her husband for the first time. Prior to us meeting, we had only spoken through Facebook. The family resemblance was uncanny. It was comforting to see a familiar face and be around a culture more familiar to my own as a Honduran. They gave me the REAL Spain experience. They lived on the outskirts of Barcelona in Vallirana, Cataluña, Spain. This is the ore country side of Spain, where the pueblos (small towns) are located. I felt lucky to be staying with them because it added depth to my experience and knowledge of Spain. It was without a doubt my favorite part of Spain.

During the first two days, we visited the church La Sagrada Familia and drove around Vallirana. Catalan is the language spoken in this area. When I joined them for the Christmas mass, I could barely understand what was being said. It was definitely not the Spanish I had grown up around. Nevertheless, I was beautiful.

On Christmas day, we drove to Barcelona to join my cousin’s husband’s family for dinner in a hotel. The dinner was superb from start to finish and the family was more than welcoming of my presence. They asked me to play Christmas songs with my ukulele and so I did. Their singing captured the entire hotel floor’s attention. Everyone enjoyed themselves greatly. After dinner, a few of us went off to visit Montjuic, a hill surrounded by a national museum, a castle, and a 5-Star Hotel that hosted for the 1992 Summer Olympics. Only the pictures can truly describe the beauty of it all, but even then, it’s something you have to experience.

My cousins and I spent the next day at Mont Tibidabo, which overlooks Spain and is surround by an Amusement park and a telecommunications tower as well as the famous catholic church Sagrat Cor. The view was breathtaking; and just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my cousins took be to Montserrat the next day.

Montserrat Mountain is both a natural park and monastery, and home of Our Lady of Montserrat, which is also known as “La Virgen Negra” – The Black Virgen Mary. It was the highest I have ever been on a mountain. It was truly heavenly. I was in the clouds. Again, this was an experience that is better illustrated through photos and 100% better in person. Every day here has been a dream.

December 28th completed my Christmas break. At 10:40 a.m., I ran into the arms of my boyfriend Trevor who in July, decided he wanted to spend New Year’s with me in Spain. I’ve been speechless ever since. Traveling is a beautiful experience but it is much better when you’re surround by people you love. I cannot wait to see how the rest of this break plays out.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year filled with love.

-Rachel B.

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Unraveling My Purpose

In the dream of heaven, you completely surrender to life, knowing that everything is just the way it is. And because you accept everything as it is, you no longer worry about anything. Your life becomes exciting because there’s no more fear. You know that you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing, and that everything that has happened was meant to happen because they have led you to greater awareness. Even the worst thing that can happen to you is meant to happen because it’s going to push you to grow. – Don Miguel Ruiz

Adjusting to Spain has been easy, but I can’t the same say in regard to having no local support system. While I enjoy the presence of my fellow volunteers, it is exhausting to constantly be around individuals with journeys that do not align with mine. I mean, I’m a 23 year-old who is ready for a more serious part of her life, while the other volunteers are 18 years-old and dying to finally have some control over their own lives. This is 100% natural! I’m only mentioning it because I want all future travelers to know that it is okay to feel like the outsider of a group, to realize that who you are may not fit into the group’s agenda. Raising our awareness and respect for others is the best thing we can do for ourselves in these situations. Be social when you can but also honor the moments when your body tells you you’ve had enough for the day. Your mind, body, and soul will thank you. I promise.

On a different note, Spain has been treating me extremely well. From time to time I reflect on the Lumos catch phrase, “Travel with a purpose.” My purpose has unraveled little by little each week, but I’ll wait till the end to share that with you. I will say that my Spanish has improved significantly. I’ve let the children I work with correct my Spanish. For 5-7 year-olds, they are pretty intelligent. Mind you, some of them are from different countries and have to learn Spanish, Valenciana, Castellano, and English! These little sponges are way smarter than I was at their age! After 23 years, I can finally hold a conversation with my Abuela (grandmother) back home and it warms my heart. Common now!

I’m impressed with the way the teachers work with the children. In my experience, I have never seen so many teachers treat their “wild” students with so much love and patience. I love it! I’m so use to watching teachers get frustrated with these types of students. I have the utmost respect for these kinds of teachers because they volunteer the best parts of them. I first heard this idea from a college professor of mine in NY. He said, “I get paid to teach you. It doesn’t matter how I teach you because I still get a pay check. But if I expect you to learn, that means I have to volunteer my best self.” He then went on expressing how fed up he was with teachers who don’t get personal with their students; but I digress.

As I’ve mentioned in my previous posts, these children come from all over the world and they are all from lower income families. Additionally, the teachers in this school all have fair skin, while the students vary from tan, to brown, to black. Now, I am only mentioning this because I have observed the teacher-student relationships. I have yet to see one teacher pick on a student for their race or ethnicity, or looks for that matter. Not one teacher favors one group of students more than the other. This may not be true for all of the schools in Spain, but I recognize the genuine love and respect that these teachers have for each of their students. I’ve watched some of the children struggle with accepting that not everyone looks like them. Little fights break out here and there, but the teachers are always there to set a good example. They always tell the kids, “It doesn’t matter what you look like. I’m no better than anyone here. We are all a team and we have to respect one another and love one another equally.” It’s beautiful, necessary, and powerful because there are plenty of schools in the world that don’t adhere to this belief. Also, this is a crucial developmental stage in a child’s life. I comforted and honored to work in an environment that takes their role seriously. My mind screams, “Family!” every time I think about it.

Oh,  and speaking of family – my soul sister and her fiance came to visit me in Spain! What? Do y’all understand how excited I was to see a familiar face? This is a woman that I look up to. We are about 9 years apart, she is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor (the profession I am going into), and she is one of the individuals who sparked my new life journey back in 2015. Needless to say, she is very special to me.

We took tourism to a whole other level. I spent a day and a half with them in Valencia just catching up on life! I then spent another day and a half meeting them in Barcelona, where we saw about 6 amazing sights within 5 hours. Crazy, I know but it was amazing. I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything!

*Side note* Spain’s trains are not cheap and the U.S. dollar does not work in our favor here, at least not right now.

Okay, back to it!

I purposely spent a day in a half in Barcelona because I knew I’ll be returning during Christmas time, which is three weeks away.  Again, what? Where is the time going?  Soon I’ll be meeting family that I’ve only ever known through social media. Am I blessed? Yes. Oh, and then my boyfriend is coming to visit for the remainder of the break! When I signed up for this trip I thought I was going to be solo. Thankful is an understatement! It’s a peace of mind to know I have these events to look forward to, especially after the emotional and physical fiasco my body went through prior to the GRE, which I am so glad is over by the way!

I went m.i.a. the day before the test. I did not have the energy to talk to anyone. I was overwhelmed and had knots in my stomach. I can’t express enough my dislike for these types of tests; a test that measures absolutely nothing about who I am and what I am capable of doing. I process things at a slower pace and I need time to grasp concepts. I learn better through writing and discussing the material rather than memorizing it for the sake of getting a good grade. It doesn’t align well with who I am. Nevertheless, I still gave my best on test day, and luckily I don’t get nervous once a test is in front of me. I accept the moment, I breathe, and I do what I can.

When the day of the test arrived, I had to travel three hours on train from Valencia, Spain to Madrid. During that time I had journaled to myself. In that journal entry I wrote:

 ...You did your best. You will do your best. You challenged yourself. You rose to the occasion. Be proud. Smile. Feel love. Be love. Be.

After writing, I let go of all the pressure I had placed on myself. Once I arrived in Madrid, I spent an hour in a coffee shop catching up on some reading. As I drank my delicious mocha coffee and ate my cinnamon bun soaked in Nutella, I came across the passage in the beginning of this blog. I had chills, y’all! I felt at such peace with myself. My world aligned again and I was ready for whatever was to come.

Taking the GRE in a different country was probably the best decision for me. It felt more relaxing to be amongst individuals from different parts of the world. I can’t explain it, it just felt good. At the end of it all, I can honestly say I am content and EXTREMELY thankful for the experience. Oh, I’m also thankful that it’s over! Out of sight and out of mind!

I called everything post-GRE “The journey back to myself.” Between being sick and stressed out about the test, I definitely fell out of touch with myself. I needed to socialize, start working out, and do more sight seeing. This was my new mission. To hold myself accountable, I began writing a list titled, “What do I want to accomplish today?” I would even list something as simple as waking up, which is a great accomplishment for anyone. As someone who is active in the mental health community, I find it extremely beneficial to notice all the “small” things. This type of mindfulness is powerful because things such as waking up can be a difficult task, especially for those like myself who battle depression.  It helps reprogram the brain in more ways than one. For me, it sends a message to my brain that everything I do matters. It reminds me to be impeccable with my words and my actions, especially towards myself. It’s a reminder to never feel less than or shrink at the presence of challenging situations.

So, yeah. All is well my friends. I am learning, growing, and embracing this journey that I am on. I wouldn’t change a thing about this experience.

Talk to you soon,

Rachel

Life Beyond the Vines

P.S. Enjoy the pics! There are some things that don’t need to be put into words.  A picture can say it all.

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Stargazing in the Sahara

Last weekend, I joined the group of West Point cadets for a weekend camping in the Sahara desert. The cadets are led by a professor of comparative politics and anthropology, who has become an incredible resource to me as I research and observe the society and culture around me. Her perspective is poignant and challenges me to continue to search for new manifestations of women’s empowerment in the Islamist and Arab culture, as well as the Moroccan political identity. But besides that, she and the rest of the cadets have become very, very dear friends to me. I feel so incredibly fortunate to have been able to spend so much time with their group in the last few weeks. Below is a photo of our group (WP plus their four tagalongs!) on our way to the desert.

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To get to the Sahara, we drove 10 hours through the Moroccan countryside before arriving in the neighboring town of Merzouga. It was incredible to watch the scenery change from urban residences to winding cliffs of dense forest, to eventually an infinite horizon of sand. To give you a better idea of where we were geographically, we were about 25 miles away from the Algerian border. We spent Friday evening in a hotel before waking up early Saturday morning to explore. We visited Berber artisan shops and attended an abidat ra concert. Abidat ra is a unique type of music that is native to Morocco , whose subject matter illustrate the nomadic roots and religious undertones of the Berber ethnicities prevalent throughout the region. It is extremely dissonant, but especially hypnotic and captivating when it’s performed live. Here is an action shot of us dancing with the performers! (Note the Audrey Hepburn-inspired headscarf... It was a great way to keep cool in the desert, and avoid getting sand in my face when it got windy!)

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At around 6:00 PM that day, we embarked on our sunset camel trek to our campsite in the Sahara. The last time I was on a camel was two years ago  in the Gobi desert in northwestern China, during a blistering hot afternoon. It was one of my favorite adventures in China, and so naturally I could hardly contain my excitement to mount a camel once again and enjoy a beautiful sunset as Merzouga disappeared behind me. I took the lead camel, feeling bold, and named him Hatim after my favorite child to care for at the local orphanage. After an incredible sunset and 45-minute ride, we arrived at our campsite for a mouthwatering dinner of tagine chicken and steamed vegetables. After that, we stayed up into the wee hours of the morning lying outside entranced by the constellations of stars above. The stargazing was the most incredible I’ve experienced... We saw five shooting stars and located two of my favorite constellations (Hercules and Pegasus) using the SkyGuide app (INVEST IN THIS APP) before falling asleep under the stars.

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I woke up early with our guide Hamza to watch the sunrise, which was every bit as mesmerizing as the sunset we watched the night before. After we finished cleaning up camp, we saddled back up to return to Merzouga for breakfast before returning back to Rabat.

It was an absolutely indescribable weekend of experiencing the most majestic natural landscapes and culturally influenced art, and these pictures truly only scratch the surface.

I look forward to sharing more in detail about this weekend during my Lumos presentation this fall!

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In my next post, I’ll be focusing about the changes happening once again in the classroom at Feminin Pluriel... Challenges and frustration are just as important to document as life changing weekends in the desert, after all!

The End. And Now Our Story Begins…

Beautiful. Awe-inspiring. Wonderful. Great. It’s just a wonderful, beautiful life. You see hard times, you see good times. You see problems and you see blessings. You see failures and you see victories. Even with people, you see their good side and their bad. You see your good qualities and have a gignormous spotlight pointed at all of your shortcomings. I don’t even know what to say about it, to express how I feel and how it was. I’m just very satisfied, really joyful, thankful, content, at peace about it all. It was all really good. And that’s how it should have been. I loved it for the bad times as much as the good times. I learned a lot about balance in life and I feel like I have matured a lot on this trip, become a lot more discerning on this trip, hopefull become wiser on this trip. I didn’t feel like a different person when I arrived, while I was there, when I left, when I arrived again in Tennessee. Same ole’ me. But I do think that I might have learned some stuff and done some good along the way, and that is just so so valuable, my having living for others and for God just made it all so worth it. And as I look at the sky tonight, and see the clouds, I remember the beauty that I witnessed there. And as I spend time with my people here again, I remember the relationships formed and the lives touched, including my own. Because of this trip, I have felt more pain and more joy than I even could have without it: and it was all worth it. And it wasn’t that the joy was worth it because of the pain: both were worth it, in and of themselves. They are both beautiful, in their time. And it’s satisfying because the end is better than the beginning. And it’s full because I not only enjoyed my life, but I also gave of my joy. And it’s purposeful because it is not for me, it’s for others, because it is for God. I’m just really amazed at it all. Thanks Lumos for all of it. It was stupefyingly super-duper.

Well, I suppose that I should tell you how it all ended and how everything went down. There were tears. There were lots of hugs. There were well-wishes and exchanges of contact information. There was closure. And there were a few more events that were out of the ordinary.

The first of which was another camp! Yay camps! This one was with Caminul Felix at Barajul Lesu. I went together with their family and it was a splendid time!

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We had the wonderful experience of enjoying Nature’s bounty by picking wild berries every day...

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Went on nature hikes...

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Saw a local waterfall...

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Had campfires every night where we told stories, sang songs, played games and looked at the extremely large number of visible stars...

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Ate scrumpdiliumpcious food...

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Searched for the local fresh-water lobsters in the streams and swam in the crystal mountain rivers...

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Played games with the kids like soccer, volleyball, Frisbee, lacrosse, Catan, chess, and the list goes on...

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(The fellas actually really liked chess, which, of course, brought great joy to my heart, hahaha. 🙂 )

And enjoyed the full beauty of my wondrous homeland...

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One of the kids had even brought an English assignment that he wanted me to help him with. As a nerd, it touched my heart. As a teacher, it brought me joy. As a mentor, it encouraged me. As a friend, it again touched my heart, because I know why he brought it. It’s in the little things that you sometimes notice a lot. We definitely had a wonderful time together, just being silly and having a lot of fun together, but what I think that I loved the most was the conversations that I was able to have with them, talking about who they are, what is going on in their lives, what happened in their past, and how they see themselves and their future. A lot of these kids don’t really have someone that they open up to, someone who pours into their lives who wants what is best for them. I remember when I first started to open up to people: it was huge. It completely changed the course of my life and brought about several of the most marked changes that have ever happened in my life. To think that I might be able to be that for these kids is just really humbling. It’s kind of interesting and kind of weird at the same time: that with all that I’ve invested, I have no idea what kind or how great of an impact I had on them, and will never know. But hey, that’s relationships. That’s life. And it’s good. But saying goodbye was still really hard.

Here we are all together one last time before I left, right after I gave them their presents.

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Whew. Get emotional thinking about it. Huzzah for picture overload! But hey, this is kind of my last post, so why not!

Then I had to say goodbye to my Tileagd kids, which wasn’t any easier at all. But it was a great last session! We sang tons of songs, English and Romanian, I heard each of them play what they had learned on the mandolin, and then I gave them each their presents: tons of candy and gum and books! In fact, I built them a mini-library! So, I looked around the country for good bilingual story books in English and Romanian(really hard to find and really expensive when you do), to help them learn to read better, even if I’m not there, creating a whole system of leveling up in difficulties, using books with tons of pictures, explanations, especially Disney themed ones or classic stories. Not all the children were at that last session, so I organized a way for each of them to get their candy and gum, even if they weren’t there, but with the books, it was a different story. I wanted all of the children to benefit from these books. They were receiving these as a group. And all of the children were totally fine with that. We set up a system of checking the books out and have all of the books in the classroom where we held our lessons every session. As I mentioned, I bought the books in such a way for them to be stories that interested them, both when it comes to age, but also as a progression, that as they read through them, they steadily gain a better understanding of the English language, so much so as to be able to read even at a more advanced level. I gave them the books, and then we had STORY TIME!!!! I love story time! 🙂 I showed them how they could go and work through these together, and helped them read it out loud in English and Romanian, pointing out important concepts, rules of pronunciation, and so on. It was wonderful. We read a couple of them. Then, of course, we went outside and played some soccer, because not-America. It was a great end to a great time.  After that and some other assorted games, it was done. I said my goodbyes and I straddled off to hitchhike my way back to Oradea. Oh yeah, by the way, did I mention that in Romania, hitchhiking is not only legal, but a large portion of the population’s main method of travel (outside of the ole OnFoote)? Yeah. I did it many times. And I didn’t even need a hitchhiker’s thumb. Skill. It was exciting. In fact, some people give hitchhikers rides as a job. That is the extensiveness of this mode of transportation. It’s great. Hitchhiked off into the sunset. Modern Eastern European Western. Yes. Funness is wonderful. But anyways, pictures!!!

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(Yep, that road is our soccer field! And we are playing in flip-flops, because the intensity of the champion life is even greater that way.)

And then of course, I can’t forget my last visit to the Charis Center, the ole hallowed home base.

I looked over some of our final work there before I left, and as the grapes began to ripen in the vineyard I said goodbye to my peeps from the hood...

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Especially my man Daniel: it was wonderful getting to know him, getting to pour into each other’s lives, working along him, teaching him, and having him teach me. I loved it and I’m going to miss that guy.

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I got my certificate from the bossman...

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Gave back my borrowed, faithful, tough bicycle which I rode to the Charis Center, 24 km every day that I went there...

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I went atop Oradea’s Town Hall to see my city one last time...

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I felt with the crying rock...

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Said my farewells to the old Tricolor, that great 16th century symbol of republicanism, freedom, and revolution...

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The birds were flying overhead as I walked out of the Town Hall...

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I left that world behind and set my course for the New World...

Thank you all so much for reading my blog, and thank you Lumos for believing in this vision and helping to make all of this possible.

What else is there to say? The world. But I think that I included most of the major, pertinent highlights.

I did my best. God does the rest.

It’s really wonderful.

That time is done, and a new time has begun.

And it was a beautiful day...

Grace and peace,

Yours truly,

~David Gal-Chiş

 

A New Perspective on Giving

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This is kind of a rare thing for me, for me to start off with a picture. But I really felt that it was necessary. When I see this picture and these kids, I just kind of die on the inside and cry tears of joy on the outside. It’s a weird feeling, but then again, I’m somewhat new to realizing that it’s ok for a guy to have feelings, so, you know, it’s fine, whatever. If you’ve been keeping up, these are my Tileagd kids again. Great bunch. A little rowdy this last session, but that’s how kids get when they are cooped up inside due to the CANICULA!!! Oh, the horror!!  So the Romanian language has a word for a day of extreme heat, meant to convey feelings of fear, worry, and despair. Note the resemblance to Caligula and Dracula. Definitely on purpose. But I laugh in the face of danger, and the kids and I went for a walk to the nearby creek. We played Telephone with English words and expressions, Hide and Go Seek, and a game that’s called “Ţară, ţară, vrem ostaşi” which translated means “Country, Country, We Want Soldiers” which is pretty much another fun game to wear kids out. Whew! Then we walked back singing some classic Romanian children’s songs and English nursery rhymes. The neighbors gave us some funny looks, but it seemed like they enjoyed it. 🙂 Then we went back to work with the kids! Some more music, some more English, when they get bored of one, switch to the other. Works every time. We started the lessons much earlier though, at least two hours before the games, in which time we did English and music. However this was a special day. My day had started much earlier. This day was special because of more than just the time I was able to spend with the kids. That morning, I had gone shopping together with Shonye, a Romi man that had volunteered many times to help Charis and was my connection to Tileagd, as well as the man who organized all of the children to come whenever we had sessions. After some classic, hardcore price-hunting, we filled the trunk and the backseat with food. Why? This is an interesting time of year for the poor. It’s after the sowing and before the reaping. And the weather tends to the extreme, which is hard for the non-airconditioned world. In America, we give an alert and say to stay inside. In non-America poor-people-land, they respond that inside is outside when you have curtains for doors and leave the windows open that at least the air might circulate.

But we weren’t just giving to any Romi poor. We were giving to the working poor who were in sincere need. Those with a new perspective on life. Classic Romi colony lifestyle? If (big if) the dad works, then usually as soon he gets his hands on some cash, he drinks it all, gambles it away, and then comes home to a hungry family drunk and well...anyways. If the dad doesn’t work, then the methods vary but the results are the same. I won’t bother to show you the condition of their houses/huts/shanties. There are some families where this doesn’t happen, where the dads have changed their lifestyle and as a result, everything else changes as well. This usually happens because of a change of medium due to converting to some evangelical form of Christianity, but I say this because so far, I have seen a grand total of zero cases of this happening any other way, that is, short of the younger generation leaving and the family tree being changed that way. But never a change in the parents. Which is interesting because it really has brought to life the truth that if someone really wants to do some good, then when someone gives, when someone helps, they need to do so in a holistic way, considering the whole person and the whole situation. My old Bosnian buddy Sanjin always used say to me, “Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for life.” And that’s so true. If someone is to give tangible help, that will only be useful and beneficial in certain situations. The intangible, however, is what is most important. And just like anyone who knows anything about rehab, overcoming addiction, ghetto culture, and so on knows, one of the most important factors for long-term change is a change in the medium. That’s why at a graduation of TSU’s that I attended, a state-funded public university, they sang black people gospel church music. That’s why the city of Oradea has a part of the budget apportioned specifically to the furthering of religion and religious activities. Because these people are in those situations and know what life is like, and know how that change in the medium can help people with self-destructive lifestyles and unhealthy mediums come out of those situations because they have seen it first-hand. Like I have now.

It’s so interesting: my perspective on giving has developed so much. Now I know what situations the beggars in Romania come from. I know what every action of mine towards them will further or affect. I know their lifestyle because I have worked among them and have seen the truth of their situation. I have seen the half-blind or handicapped children (oftentimes intentionally maimed) begging as well as the healthy mother with five kids as well as the man whose condition is as dilapidated as his life. I have seen people selling flowers only to steal something off the table when people aren’t looking. And now I know the truth of the situations that I have seen. As Solomon says, “For in much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” Now I know where giving is helpful to the person and where it is detrimental by furthering an unhealthy lifestyle. Now I can discern just by the style of dress of the beggar and the way that they speak and what they ask for and the way that they ask it and what they answer to my occasional questions what I should do in the situation, because now I’ve seen both sides, or all of the several sides of the issue, and my love has been tempered by truth and my truth by love.

I was eating in the center with some Romanian acquaintances from Oradea one day together with some members of my family from the area and a beggar came to our table. Being the oldest guy, as my uncle had not yet arrived, I had to decide how to deal with the situation. I surely would not have let the ladies give if anyone was to, but if I didn’t give him money or if I decided to give something else, everyone would have followed my lead, because I culturally had the most authority to speak for us if I chose to speak. So, as our food had not come yet and I now have an extremely strict policy that I don’t give money to beggars (especially for people like the beggar that came), when he came by everyone fell silent and I very firmly told him that I don’t give money to beggars. Once, twice, thrice, four times, and he finally left. The Romanians remained silent about it because they understood better how things worked, but a Romanian-American girl there expressed how she wouldn’t have been able to do that. That’s one side of the coin: flatly, coldly refusing because you understand that your money will only hurt them. However, that too is balanced by the other side of the coin, which is what happened on the day of my most recent session in Tileagd. We bought basic staple foods and ingredients for families with a new perspective on life who had already begun to live a new lifestyle. Those where the fathers no longer drank or did drugs, where the fathers worked, where the fathers no longer beat their families, but fed their families and tried to give themselves and their families a better life. Those where the families tried as hard as they could, but things were still difficult, because as reformed Romi, most of them have no education, and the GED-like programs that used to be offered for them are no longer available, so they work on a day-job basis, day-jobs, especially for those without a diploma in a trade, which are oftentimes seasonal in nature, with summers and winters being harder seasons, due the scarcity of nonagrarian day-jobs near where they live. Construction? Who has money to build? You’re in the country. Who needs to build? Mothers working? Who is going to take care of the kids? Daycare is nonexistent in the areas where they live and they couldn’t afford it anyways. Grandparents take care of the kids? Most of the families live in third-world conditions: if the grandparents make it, yes, that is a very happy condition. Drive somewhere else? Who has the money for a car? For gas? And if so, considering the pay-check, is it even worth it?  And a bike? For many of these people, a bike costs about two-month’s salary. For the ones who need it, well...I think you get the picture. So, we helped those who helped themselves as best they could, but still didn’t have enough to not go hungry. And it was special indeed.

Maybe from the pictures you won’t be able to tell their joy and gratitude, but if you knew them and were there and understood Romanian culture, you would have easily been able to tell what was going on inside. Notice that none of the dads are there. Yep, you guessed it: working. Also, take note that the people in all of these pictures are wearing some of their best clothes. Also note: culturally, in Romania, people oftentimes don’t smile a whole lot in pictures, especially official pictures, and you sometimes have to catch them off-guard to do so because of a word-play on the word serious. Being serious is generally considered to be a good thing, but being un-serious is bad because the connotations of the word are very negative, oftentimes used as an insult, to describe someone who cheated you or wronged you and so on. And of course, the aversion to being un-serious is so great, that people tend towards the opposite. It is an interesting example of how language affects a culture. In fact, when I went to go and make my Romanian passport, the people told me not to smile in the picture. Why? Because I didn’t want to appear to be “un-serious.” I think it’s pretty hilarious. But anyways, I thought that I should mention that so that you all can better understand the pictures. So, I decided to add more pictures this time around because people have been asking for more pictures. So, here you go! This first picture is of when we laid all of the food out to get it ready to be packed, in the house of the person who was driving me around to give all of the food out.

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This girl’s mother died, and she sleeps on this bed. Imagine how those cracks keep in the heat during the winter, heat out during the summer, and what effect the curtain over the door has. Yes, the floor is dirt.

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Typical Romanians drying their clothes outside. In this house, there are actually five families who live there. But what I love about this picture, that I think shows the true state of things, is the two little boys here. To each child, I gave a lollipop and two Romanian biscuit dessert things that have chocolate or cream inside of them, some of the least expensive ones too, and they are both running to show their mom. Running. Because they got some cheap biscuit cream dessert thing. I just don’t think people reading this realize how rare stuff like this is for them. I have been bringing the Tileagd kids candy, and I asked them when the last time they ate a piece of candy was, and they said that they couldn’t remember. These are the families with a new perspective, keep in mind, which are doing way, way better than most Romi families, that “way better” being oftentimes still going hungry. I definitely teared up at this picture, especially since I know the children.

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Several families also live in this “house.” Many times the families are separated by only a wall or a curtain.

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Haha. Kid don’t even care about the picture. LOLLIPOP.

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Shirtless, shoeless, pretty typical of these people. Note that for several of these families I didn’t take pictures inside because I didn’t want to shame the families. Imagine that most of the families have rugs on the walls due to a lack of insulation in their houses or simply due to the state of the walls/planks.

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We saw the needs, and addressed them appropriately. And I too was blessed by it.

So, shopping, teaching, giving. It was a great day. 🙂 Just another day in my Lumos project. Also, in case anyone was wondering, I am doing fantastically splendiforous! Just continuing to have a wonderful time here with the kids, helping out with Charis, going into the community and so on. It’s pretty great. 🙂 I’m thoroughly enjoying it and learning a lot from it. But yeah! Life! 🙂 Life with a new perspective. Sobering, but cool. And good. Very good indeed.

~David Gal-Chis

My Year in South Africa

In less than a week I will be home! For the past year, the idea of coming home has been intangibly far in the future. Now, I am scrambling to prepare for my three-week-visit to the States. The end of the year has given me reason to reflect about my experience and compare my life now to where I started a year ago.

When I first arrived, I am ashamed to say that I knew very little about South African culture and history. I didn’t know who was president, what “colored” meant in a racial context, which languages where nationally recognized, or how much of colonial history still influences society–I didn’t even know any South Africans. Despite my attempts at self-education, I was completely ignorant of what daily life looked like for South Africans.

Now I am very aware of President Jacob Zuma, the ANC party, and the South African political system. I understand the apartheid imposed racial classification system that still is utilized today. I have experienced the dynamics of eleven national languages coexisting in South Africa. Furthermore, every day I see how British and Dutch colonialism still pervades economic, political, and social structures in Cape Town. I now comprehend that daily life means many different notions to the South Africans I live and work with.

There have been many more insights that I have obtained about South Africa, North America, and the international community from my trip. However, much of my insights have been reflections on past and current affairs. Therefore, it was fitting that I was recently able to attend an event series called Open Book Festival. The festival was designed for authors of recent publications to speak about their work. Several of the dialogues I was able to attend did well to address current and past international affairs, but they also expanded on how those events will impact future developments.

Along with my reflections on South Africa, my person reflections lead me to believe that very little can be understood about a place without spending significant and intentional time living there. In considering how much I have learned from when I started my year, I realize that while I have gained many insights, there are still many things that are unknown to me about South Africa. People also experience a place in a variety of ways, many of which through narrow and brief experiences. Sometimes as outsiders we see more clearly, but very often more happens than what an outsider can perceive. For now, I will look forward to what discoveries are to come in my next encounters in South Africa.

Winter Excursions

Hail in Bo-kaap

Hail in Bo-kaap

I have finally surrendered to Cape Town winter and accepted that it is here. After going to a Cape Malay cooking class, I walked out of my teacher’s house in Bo-kaap to find a massive hail storm–an unusual event for Cape Town. The cooking class I attended is located in a Cape Malay woman’s house, where she teaches tradition recipes. In two classes, I learned how to make chicken curry, roti, samosas, chili bites, and swiss cake rolls.

As you can see in the picture above, the Bo-kaap community is composed of rows of brightly colored houses. The historical Cape Malay architecture remains along with many Cape Malay residents as well. Bo-kaap is one of the few areas where oppressed people where not forcibly removed during apartheid.

According to the Iziko Slave Lodge in Cape Town, many of the Cape Malay people came to Cape Town because they were human trafficked through the slave trade industry. Later, many of the women became indentured servants and worked as domestic laborers. Then apartheid government oppressed Cape Malay people, along with many others, through legislation, which was finally abolished in 1994 with the first democratic election in South African. However, like many formerly oppressed communities, many of the Cape Malay peoples’ rights remain socially and economically neglected and abused.

As the writers of the South African constitution were composing the Bill of Rights, they recognized that not all citizens would immediately have their rights protected. The philosophy they adopted is called progressive realization of rights, which is a gradual reconciliation of past conflict to future equality. There are so many systemic flaws in South African government and social institutions that it would be impossible to resolve all human rights issues in 1994, 2004, or anytime in the near future, realistically. Therefore, rights are categorized in a sort of hierarchy to determine which rights have to be addressed the most urgently. The SAHRC prioritizes children’s rights and other vulnerable groups such as older persons, women, detained persons and disabled persons. However, different human rights violations correspond to the mandates of individual regulatory bodies.

Unfortunately, just because rights are categorized in certain ways, does not mean they are manifested in the intended fashion. For instance, education is not a right that is considered under progressive realization. However, while listening to a lecture sponsored by Equal Education and given from the first Constitutional Court Chief Justice, Kate O’Regan, I learned that many issues educations issues should be immediately realized, but are not. A lack of resources, limited funding, and corruption in government departments create violations of educational rights even in the new South Africa.

While Ms. O’Regan worked intensively for years in building South Africa’s Constitutional Court, she surprised me in her perspective about the role of the court system. She stated that South Africans are often too reliant on the court, especially when other branches of government fail and the courts cannot turn people away (in the same fashion at least). Ms. O’Regan encouraged grass root movements of people first understanding their rights, next recognizing when their rights are violated, and then seeking alternative dispute resolution (ADR) before litigation. Listening to Ms. O’Regan was encouraging to me as a proponent of ADR, but even more insightful was her description of when court cases are appropriate for litigation. She clarified that when cases can represent a class of people or answer questions that are quantitative rather than qualitative, then traditional court litigation is suitable.

Even though winter weather has slowed me down, I’m still finding time to explore Cape Town through cuisine and educational events.  The weather has also fostered my creativity in planning my time since I am forced to spend much of it indoors. Here’s to more cooking classes and bookstore human right events!

Thoughts on Human Dignity

Recently, I expressed my dismay at a bathroom that charged me one rand (ten cents in the US) to enter it. I asked an acquaintance with me, “What’s the point of charging R1?” She answered that it was to keep homeless people out of the bathroom. I felt rage and horror at the establishment’s alleged discrimination against homeless people. However, my friend disagreed with me, arguing that the discrimination was not unfounded.

To give a context: my acquaintance is a South African living in the township in Cape Town that has been identified by a media statement of the SAHRC as a crisis area in regards to toilet sanitation. For 6 weeks toilet workers in the area have been on strike because of low wages. The residents attack city workers who try to clean it in the meantime. The protest is now very political and largely blames apartheid and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for leaving Black South Africans in poverty today and the DA (the political part in power in the Western Cape) for not making more substantial changes.

While this person is not directly affected by the sanitation issue in the area she lives in, I was still shocked that my acquaintance was so inhospitable to the thought of sharing toilets with homeless people. Sure there are other issues to consider, but at the end of the day, homeless people deserve the same amount of dignity as anyone else.

What are your thoughts?

The Latest at the SAHRC

Transkei, Reforest Fest, and Obz Open Street 127

When applying for the Lumos Travel Award, my grant proposal consisted of an interdisciplinary mixture of three program placements. I wanted to work in entrepreneurial consulting, human rights, and sustainable development in different organizations for four months each; however, my plans have slightly shifted. I will now be finishing my time with the SAHRC rather than changing internships for my third placement.

My entrepreneurial consulting placement at TSiBA was one of the best places to start my work in Cape Town. Now I can see how important it was for me to work in different fields and organizations. The placement was highly compatible with my degree in entrepreneurship, but my interests are diverse and I knew I would also want exposure in human rights.

Lately, my work at the SAHRC includes attending:

  • ALgal interventions with local universities;
  • A lecture on the transformation of the Justice Branch by Chief Justice of the Constitutional Court, Mogoeng Mogoeng;
  • A farmworker rights summit in Citrusdal;
  • A SAHRC presentation on the rights of children to the Parliament Portfolio Committee for the Department of Basic Education;
  • The Judicial Inspectorate Q1 briefing to the Department of Corrections Parliament Portfolio Committee;
  • An event with presentations from the SA Dept of Corrections and Nicro discussing issues surrounding prison overcrowding and potential solutions hosted in Pollsmoor maximum security;
  • An inspection in a local township to investigate the water and sanitation conditions after a series of strikes and protests.

Thus far, my work at the SAHRC has been challenging and fulfilling. I feel like I am achieving several personal and professional goals and that I have the ability to achieve even more. My increased length of time working at the SAHRC allows for me to take on more substantial projects, augmenting my level of impact on the local (especially marginalized) community.

Spontaneity, the Lack Thereof, and a Beachy Start to Summer

Similar to most activities in Cape Town, going to see the new James Bond movie was a mission. While there is still room for spontaneity in Capetonian life, most events I have participated in took foresight, a moderate amount of time, and reasonable effort to implement. Skyfall was no different.

To obtain seats together, one must get to the theater early to select reserved seats. While the Victoria and Albert Waterfront theater is the closest, it is also the most expensive. Tickets cost R50 for a regular movie or R60 for a ticket at the independent film theater.[1] This is about a third more expensive than other Cape Town cinemas. However, another Connect intern and I decided to save money by walking to the waterfront rather than taking a R30 cab ride. (I know I must sound stingy and absurd considering price in USD, but it adds up in a year!) Our walk ended up taking an hour, getting us to the theater on time, but not early enough to get seats together (James Bond is a South African favorite apparently).

While the other intern, Ashley and I waited for the movie to start, two friendly Bond fans beside me suggested for the crowd to rearrange for her to sit beside me. Eventually Ashley ended up sitting beside me and we were able to munch on the sandwiches we packed to save more money on dinner.

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While writing this blog, about the lack of spontaneity in my life, my friend Hannah called and ironically asked if I wanted to jump in her car in 15 minutes to go to Lagoon Beach. I quickly left the coffee shop I was writing at and got ready just in time to visit one of the loveliest beaches I have visited. Hannah and I also made a sand lady and children rushed up to help us, making afro-spaghetti hair.

Lagoon Beach

 

Hannah walking towards Table Mountain and Lion’s Head

Me with our new sand-lady friend, Judith

Along with Lagoon Beach, I have also been able to visit the Strand, Gordon’s Bay, Cool Bay, Kalk Bay, and Clifton Beach 2 and 4. In the States, I never found much distinction between the beach towns I visited, but perhaps I wasn’t looking. In Cape Town, my curiosity lead me to find different characteristics in each beach.

I visited the Strand beach with my friends Cathy Arendse. The Stand was filled with coloured and black locals eating “ice lollies” and splashing in the shallow waters. Families restlessly moved around the strip of beach in from of high rise condos, looking for the next piece of beach to settle. Cathy and I decided to indulge in ice lollies of our own, forgetting that I did not wear sunscreen. On the way to Cathy’s house she noticed the color of my shoulders and apologized for keeping me out in the sun. She said, “I’m so sorry! I forgot you were white!” I laughed and said that was probably the nicest thing she said to me. Races distinction is such a part of life in South Africa, so it was nice to be thought of without reference to a skin color.

I also visited Gordon’s Bay at the beginning of my trip, but I recently passed by it on my way to hike the Crystal Pools. The other interns and I needed a permit, so our adventure instead took us to Cool Bay. This ended up being the same beach I went to after shark cage diving, only I did not discover the shallow caves at that time. Cliffs and mountains surround the beach, leaving pockets of shadowy breaks in the cliffs to retreat from the strong African sun. This was one of the most beautiful places I have visited thus far, but I, of course, have no photographic documentation.

My recent holiday leave from work has also allowed me time to explore during the week. Due to our time off, a friend from TSiBA was able to join me in an excursion down the Cape Peninsula to Kalk Bay. While exploring the quaint beach town, My friend was able to give me a local perspective about the current political state of the Congo. As a Congolese citizen, he is technically considered a refugee by the South African government, but his rights are hardly met. Refugees have an exceptionally hard time gaining work permits from the government. Even if these are obtained, the xenophobia in the country is pervasive, steadily fueling hatred and poverty. Fortunately and not that surprisingly, he and I were not met with any nasty xenophobic people in Kalk Bay. We walked by the eclectic shops and beach cafes in peace while enjoying the lovely view. On the way back to the city, he pointed out a woman sitting on the train in a dressy, traditional African garment. He said she was Congolese and she must be on her way to see an important person, like a doctor, due to the nature of her outfit.

Clifton is a dramatic change of scene to places like Strand, Muizenberg, or Gordon’s Bay. Beach 2 is almost all white and (not surprisingly) trendy and pretentious. However, my only experience at beach 4 was with TSiBA at our Staff Fun Day. My cheery coworkers were the most enjoyable company while we played games and ate “Kentucky” (KFC) under the shade of umbrellas. While eating, Cindy and I watched workers clean up the seaweed, making the beach spotless. She commented that the act was racist since the “black beaches” were not cleaned like that. I am inclined to believe that the issue is more complex than it seems, however, Cindy’s opinion is very relevant and valid through her experience as a local from the Gugulethu community. Fianlly, her opinion rings true for me in regards to my experiences so far.

Clifton Beach 4

Lion’s Head

Linda, Lindelwa, and Tyson at TSiBA Staff Fun Day

Ignition Centre manager, Abe. I started the tradition of singing “Abie started the fireeeeeeeee” whenever our group won a game

Cindy and I took shelter from the harsh rays under the umbrella


[1] The conversion rate is usually 1 USD to 8 ZAR