More bitter than sweet at the end

I can't believe my time here is over. I will have an hour or two in the morning to run my last few errands before getting into a cab to go to the airport. It feels like I've been here for only a short nap during which I had many crazy dreams. Now that I'm actually leaving, I'm not so sure I'm ready to go. Last week, I said that these three months would fulfill my SA fix for a while. Now I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stay away before returning again. When explaining my second trip to South Africa, I told people that there is something happening on the ground in South Africa that is unique and special, which I want to witness. The next time I come back, I will tell people that I came back not exclusively because of what is happening in South Africa, but also because of what happens to me when I'm here. This place prompts growth and thought and drive that I fail to feel at this level of intensity elsewhere. I'm afraid to leave now because I don't want to stop the growth I've seen in myself while living here. I don't want to cut myself off just as I'm starting. I don't want to go home and settle back into a comfortable life (as nice as it is) that does not challenge me.

I also don't want to leave because packing stinks.

Here's to hoping for a safe and smooth trip home. See you soon.

Two sides of the same city

Below are some photos from the two vineyards Ari and I visited for wine tastings on Thursday. At both locations, we were given a tour by the managing director (aka the head winemaker) around the grounds  and then he guided us through our tastings.

On Friday, Ari and I went on a half-day township tour, which included a guided walking tour in Langa, the oldest township in Cape Town. We also visited a creche (daycare/preschool center) where the kids sang and danced for us. The last photo is a great shot of the schizophrenic nature of South Africa's landscape: on left side of the street are homemade shacks and on the right side are middle and upper class homes. This is exemplary of the gigantic class divide in the country. 

This weekend has been filled with mostly food (nom nom!). Pictures will be posted soon.

Back from holiday to start another holiday

I'm back in Cape Town and must say I am relieved to be in familiar surroundings. I wrote in a journal while I was in Durban and Gaborone; I plan to transcribe those notes and post them to the blog. The trip was fun, challenging, uncomfortable at times, and empowering. But you might have to wait for the full details until I'm back home because I'm busy enjoying all the touristy things Cape Town has to offer with Ari!

We were surprised to find each other at the gate for the same flight to Cape Town in the Jo'burg airport; somehow we missed that we were flying the last leg of the trip together. I thought he was set to arrive in Cape Town an hour later than me and assumed we might overlap in Jo'burg by 20ish minutes. I had a plan in my head that I'd go to his gate, if I had time, and sneak up to where he was sitting and ask, 'Is this seat taken?' But when I arrived at my gate and saw him sitting there all plans went out the window and I just ran up to him and stood there like an idiot with a big grin on my face. He was equally shocked and confused at my appearance. 'Twas a joyous reunion.

So far we've visited the organization's office in Kenilworth, hiked most of Lions Head, been to the the self-proclaimed best vegetarian restaurant in town, fed the crazy squirrels at the Company Gardens, and enjoyed afternoon tea at the Mount Nelson Hotel. I think we're off to the a good start. Tomorrow we're going for a full day of wine tastings in Somerset West and Franschoek.

The beginning of the end

With a few random exceptions, I am all packed. I have a backpack ready and an itinerary printed for my trip to Durban, South Africa and Gaborone, Botswana. I have a suitcase, which is heavier than I remember on the trip here, and a travel backpack filled with all the clothes, books, dvds, and other odds and ends that made the guesthouse feel like home for the past 2.5 months. This is my last night sleeping in this bed, sleeping in Kenilworth. Yesterday was my last day with the organization. Now it's just travel and then touristing around Cape Town. It feels surreal that my time here is almost up. While I can't wait for Ari to get here and then to go home, I'm also starting to feel bittersweet about leaving this experience behind me. I'll be away from the internets for the next nine days while I'm traveling. Don't miss me too much. I'll be home before you know it.

Will I come back to Africa?

This morning, I popped in to the office to say hello to everyone before I began the process of packing and cleaning. L, a Zimbabwean intern who is soft spoken and incredibly intelligent, asked me if I would come back to Africa. My initial reaction was, 'most definitely.' But then he clarified: would I come back to Africa to work? I told him that I might come back to work for a year, maybe two, but I don't see moving here permanently and even figuring out the logistics of a year would be difficult. The main reason being that my home is in the USA. That is where my family - both by blood and by choice - is. That is where my life is. It amused me when people kept telling me before I left that I wasn't allowed to stay, that I had to come home. For me, that was never an option or even considered. South Africa offers an amazing place to learn and grow, but it is not home and I doubt it ever could be.

Observations of the Mother City

Before leaving for South Africa, I was asked what South Africa looked like and what the people wore and what kind of food was eaten. My answer was usually vague and generalized. These are hard questions to answer because there is no blanket answer. South Africa is a conglomerate of many different cultures and backgrounds and nationalities. It is similar to the U.S. in this respect. It would be like asking the question: What do people wear in the U.S.? Answer: clothing. The same is true for South Africa.

The other reason I was hesitant to answer these questions is because they come from a place of ignorance about South Africa, and possibly Africa in general. The person who asked these questions was looking for an answer that described something exotic and unknown; she wanted to learn about the natives' costumes and bizarre food. This judgement of the asker might be a bit harsh. I know I'm sensitive to the issue of stereotypes about South Africa and Africa, but I can only assume, because she asked these questions, that she assumed South Africa would be different from home. And based on news coverage of and general beliefs about Africa, I can only assume she thought South Africa would be different from home in a way that is different from how Paris, for example, is different from home.

Cape Town is a city and very similar in many ways to any other city. Cape Town, like Boston, has big buildings and restaurants that serve food from all over the world and lots of people and public transportation and homelessness and dance clubs and all the other things that define what a city is.

While I try the neutralize the Africaness of Cape Town, the reality is that it is a city in Africa and there are differences from other cities I've visited on other continents. Here is a list of observations about things I've seen or heard or tasted or experienced in Cape Town. Disclaimer: None of these should be extrapolated to be about South Africa or Africa in general. These shouldn't even be assumed to be set-in-stone truths about Cape Town. They are just things I've noticed. Hopefully this will give you a better idea about what life looks like in the Mother City.

• Cars drive on the left side of the road. Despite crossing streets here for more than two months, I still have not learned this. Though I have figured out that the driver's seat is on the right and stopped going to that door when getting into a car. I like to think I know to look right and then left, but an event today crushed any delusions I have about this. That event also crushed my toes. I walked into oncoming traffic and inadvertently put my left foot in front of a car's back tire, which proceeded to roll over each of my toes. Ouch! I'm guessing you think my toes are hurt. Not the case. It's just my pride. I was crossing the street to get to a minibus taxi, so the guys in the taxi saw me 'bump' into the moving car. K, the other intern who I was with, saw me. The driver saw me; he/she stopped after I hit him/her, but I just kept going for the taxi to avoid any conversation about my inability to cross the road. Luckily, I'm fine. I wiggled my toes around during the ride into town with no trouble. It doesn't hurt to walk. There's no bruising. It seems like I should have broken something, but the car was small and not moving very fast.
• There is a visible Muslim population in Cape Town. I have no idea if there are more or fewer Muslims than in Boston in terms of numbers or percentage of the population. I say the community is more visible because traditional Muslim head coverings are a common sight around town. It is not surprising to see women wearing hijabs and men wearing taqiyahs.
• Sweet potatoes are white instead of orange.
• Instead of saying 'you're welcome,' people say 'pleasure.' Also, 'darling' is said in places where I would think to use the word 'dear.' Often, when I exit a minibus taxi and thank the guy working the door, he will say 'pleasure, my darling.'
• I have not seen any quick-cook oats. It is a fine art to cook oatmeal in a microwave, which involves watching the bowl through the door's window like it was the most exciting television show you've ever seen. If you look away for a moment you risk the oatmeal bubbling over the sides and making a huge mess. I usually cook the oatmeal in three stages. The first stage is for 55 seconds and I don't need to watch it. The second stage is for 45 seconds and I squat in front of the microwave and eye the oats and water as they bubble up like a volcano in the bowl. The last phase is for 35 seconds, but I usually have to stop every ten seconds to stir the oatmeal. When I stayed with Johann, a CSer, the last time I was in Cape Town, I made a mess of his microwave while attempting to make oatmeal. I felt awful because I was rushing out the door to cash a flight to Jo'burg and didn't have time to clean up. It took me a couple of tries to get the procedure right this time around and I had a few messes to clean up, but now I'm an oatmeal master.
• When riding in a minibus taxi, it is more common to hear people speaking a language that is not English, mainly Afrikaans and Xhosa. It took me a while to get used to this. It initially freaked me out. It's hard to feel secure in an unknown situation when people are saying things you don't understand. But now I just enjoy the melody of the conversations around me. And hope they aren't plotting my death or making fun of me.
• Skinny jeans with ballet flats and waist-cinching belts are popular among the 20-something-year-old women. Older and middle-aged women commonly wear skirts that hit well below the knee and hats - mainly beanie-style hats. I've only recently in the past twoish weeks seen any young women wearing short skirts and shirts they think are dresses; I'm pretty sure this is because the new semester at the University of Cape Town has started and all of the foreign students have arrived, bringing their less modest fashion sense with them. It could also be that the seasons are transitioning from winter to spring.
• Electricity for homes and flats is prepared. When you run out, the electricity shuts off and someone must go to a local vendor - I know some grocery stores less it - and buy more. This happened only thrice while I've been here.  
• KFC is a popular fast food option in Cape Town (and Windhoek, Namibia). With the exception of one McDonald's I've seen, it's the only American chain here. I read about how Starbucks was constructing a temporary location for the World Cup for all the foreigners. Some local chains are Wimpy's, Nando's, Spur, and Kauai. I've only tried Kauai; it's a health-conscious chain with lots of veggie options and salads, wraps, and smoothies. I also want to try Nando's which is Indian-inspired fast food. The other two are just burger-and-chip joints.
• The most African thing I've noticed here, other than being in Africa and surrounded by Africans, is that many women - mostly black women - carry babies and small children on their backs by wrapping blankets and towels around the child and then tied in the front around their stomach and chest. I have no idea what kind of knot they are using, but those kids never fall or slide out of the wrap. 

I think that's enough. This is really just a random, not-exciting list of stuff I've noticed on the ground. This ongoing realization - that Cape Town is not necessarily as unique as I previously thought - has actually made me fall a little less in love with it. But that is neither here nor there.

To some up:
What to people wear here? Clothing.
What do people eat? Lots of different kinds of food.
What does Cape Town look like? A city of concrete and construction that happens to also be nestled between mountains and the ocean, making it one of the most beautiful I've ever seen.

Quotations

I might be quoted in a local newspaper later this week about the policy paper I wrote on the citizenship amendment bill. A reporter from the Cape Argus called the boss this afternoon looking for story ideas and he mentioned the policy paper. The reporter was interested. So after this conversation, the boss asked me to write up a short statement on the paper so that the reporter would have one or two quotes from me for the article. It took me about an hour to write two sentences. The writing process went something like this:

• Write a 75-word sentence that uses the word 'citizenship' four times and includes three clauses.
• Look at the Christian Science Monitor's photos of the day.
• Go back to the sentence, after being asked by the boss how much longer it will take, and delete half of it. Write a second sentence that uses the word 'citizenship' an additional two times.
• Look at the top news in my Facebook feed.
• Go back to the sentences because the boss asks me again how much longer it will be. I tell him I don't know what to say and ask for guidance. He starts talking about refugee children. I zone out after the first minute.
• Delete everything I've written. Write two sentences that only use the word 'citizenship' three times total. Send to the boss for feedback.
• Discuss the two sentences with the boss. He likes the second sentence, but thinks the first one needs work. We both edit the sentence out loud at each other and then on computers. He sends me his edited version. I edit it some more. 
• Finish.

Not the most effective process, but it got the job done. Eventually.

I feel much more comfortable being in a position of quoting someone instead of being the person providing the quote. But the boss was adamant that I be quoted and included in the article. While I feel awkward about serving in the role of spokesperson, it's nice to have my work acknowledged and see the issues discussed in the policy paper being brought into a more public space.

The end is near

Since today is a national holiday (Happy Women's Day!), I only have four more days with the organization. And since I submitted the policy paper this past Friday (yay!), I have little to do until this coming Friday. I wish I could just fast forward to Saturday morning when I board my Greyhound bus (yes, they have Greyhound in South Africa) and make my way across the country to Durban. That way I can move past the most likely uneventful time spent in the office and the pain of packing up the guesthouse and check off another four days between now and when Ari arrives. Now that I've accomplished the big professional goal I had for my time here - policy-relevant research and writing - I have checked out mentally.

While I still have 3.5 weeks left, I already feel myself skipping ahead in my brain to life back in Boston. But I still have 4 days of work, 1 day of cross-country bus travel, 3 days in Durban, 4 days in Gaborone, and 1.5 weeks of being a tourist around Cape Town through which to get. And I'm looking forward to all of that (except the four days in the office) and I'm sure it will be awesome, but right now I'm just waiting for the next big thing.

Submission to South African Parliament

Below is the text of the policy paper, with a few edits (the removal of the organization's name), that was submitted to South African Parliament on behalf of the organization. This is what I've been working on for the past two weeks. Proposed next steps include making a presentation at the public hearing (to be done by a colleague) and lobbying ANC MPs who might be sympathetic to the organization.

South African Citizenship Amendment Bill [B17-2010]:

Public Submission by (The Organization)

6 August 2010

Core Recommendations:

• Citizenship should be granted to all who are born in South Africa.
• The time spent living in South Africa prior to and upon receiving refugee status should count towards the number of years required of a permanent resident to apply for citizenship by naturalization.
• Refugees, in addition to permanent residents, should be eligible for citizenship through marriage.

Overview

The law should take the most vulnerable applicants – minors, refugees, and asylum seekers – into special consideration when defining the path to attaining South African citizenship. While the South African Citizenship Amendment Bill [B17-2010] makes some concessions for those seeking citizenship – such as allowing a child born in South Africa to non-South African citizens who have permanent residence in the Republic of South Africa (RSA) to become a citizen by naturalization if he or she resides in the RSA from the time of birth to the time of attaining major age – it does not do enough to ease the process for the aforementioned vulnerable groups. Citizenship offers a person the ability to fully engage with a democracy, which benefits both the citizen and the country. This policy memo outlines three recommendations that focus on the needs of these groups that Parliament should include in the proposed amendment bill.

Grant Citizenship at Birth

Currently, South African law dictates citizenship exclusively through the citizenship of one's parents – jus sanguinis – and not by the location of one's birth – jus soli – when determining the nationality of someone born inside of the RSA. These two concepts are not mutually exclusive. Jus soli should be incorporated into South Africa law as a guiding legal principle alongside jus sanguinis, granting citizenship to anyone born in the RSA, regardless of the citizenship of either or both of his or her parents. By implementing laws the use both jus soli and jus sanguinis, South Africa will also address the issue of stateless children, which can happen if they are born in a country that follows jus sanguinis and whose parents from citizens of a country that follows jus soli. South Africa should follow the lead of more 30 other countries, including the United States, Canada, and Brazil, that include jus soli in their citizenship and nationality laws.

Legal Application of Jus Soli in the United States

The 14^th Amendment to the United States Constitution states: “All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside.” This means anyone born in the United States, except those born to parents who are foreign diplomats or have diplomatic immunity, is a citizen of the United States.

Legal Application of Jus Soli in Canada

Subsection 3(1)(a) of Canada's Citizenship Act states: “Subject to this Act, a person is a citizen if

(a) the person was born in Canada after February 14, 1977 … .” The only exception is if the child is born to foreign diplomats or those who receive the privileges of foreign diplomats.

Legal Application of Jus Soli in Brazil

Article 12 of the Brazilian Federal Constitution states: “The following are Brazilians:
I - by birth: a) those born in the Federative Republic of Brazil, even if of foreign parents, provided that they are not at the service of their country… .”

Intended Impact for Children

Children, no matter where they are born, are a vulnerable group that requires more support and attention than adults. Those born to refugee and asylum seeker parents are even more vulnerable as they lack the protection and rights offered by residence in the country where their parents have citizenship.

On World Refugee Day in 2007, King Kadende, a 15-year-old refugee from Rwanda, gave a speech in Cape Town, entitled “The Plight of Refugee Child.” In his speech, Kadende outlined several issues – including access to documentation, social services, and childhood education – that alienate children born to refugee and asylum seeker parents from their adopted community; he claims these result in the children feeling humiliated, discriminated against, and targeted for xenophobia. He said: “Children who were born here in South Africa, whose parents were refugees, are not recognized by South Africans. They are regarded as foreigners, and refugees. They are denied opportunities (Valid South African Identity Cards and other documents) hence experiencing inequality.”¹

As a signatory to the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), South Africa has an obligation to support all children within the RSA, including those born to parents who are not South African citizens. The CRC includes two points that are of interest because of how they relate to children who currently do not receive South African citizenship when born here.

• Article 2 states: A State must ensure the rights “of each child within (its) jurisdiction without discrimination of any kind.”
• Article 3 states: "In all actions concerning children... the best interests of the child shall be a primary consideration.”

Lack of South African citizenship for children born in South Africa has a negative impact on the needs and development of these children. The current policy of South Africa fails to fulfill either of these aforementioned articles of the CRC. Granting citizenship to those born in the RSA, regardless of who their parents are, will assist with their assimilation into the South African community in which they will live. Additionally, lack of citizenship potentially results in children not gaining access to services to which they have a right; citizenship should be granted to remedy the problem.

By incorporating jus soli into the South African Citizenship Amendment Bill [B17-2010], South Africa will join a group of countries that already adhere to the principle and in turn address the issues that arise from the country's current singular focus on jus sanguinis.

Standardize Naturalization Time Requirements

Right now, those seeking citizenship through naturalization are required to live in the RSA as a permanent resident for one year prior to application and a total of four in the previous eight years, totaling a total of five years during the nine years prior to being eligible for citizenship. The proposed amendment act seeks to change this to require five continuous years of permanent residence prior to applying. This requirement mirrors what is required of refugees who wish to apply for permanent residence, as detailed in the Refugees Amendment Act of 2008. This means a refugee must live in the RSA for a minimum of ten years, most likely to be accrued consecutively, before being eligible for naturalization. This is excessive, especially when one takes into consideration the unknown period of time required to first gain refugee status. The proposed legislation should consider the time a person spends as an asylum seeker and a refugee as equivalent to that of a permanent resident, thus matching the number of years required for naturalization eligibility to that which is required of permanent residents.

This concept is currently included in U.S. immigration law. The Immigration and Nationality Act states: “Any alien who is found upon inspection and examination by an immigration officer pursuant to paragraph (1) or after a hearing before an immigration judge to be admissible (except as otherwise provided under subsection (c)) as an immigrant under this Act at the time of the alien's inspection and examination shall, notwithstanding any numerical limitation specified in this Act, be regarded as lawfully admitted to the United States for permanent residence as of the date of such alien's arrival into the United States.”² A refugee is required to file for permanent residence after one year of being in the United States; an asylum seeker is eligible, but not required, to apply for permanent residence after one year. Upon receiving permanent residence, he or she is only required to live in the country for another four years before being eligible for citizenship. The residency card is backdated one year so that his or her time spent as a refugee or asylee counts toward the five requisite years for citizenship.

The Department of Home Affairs is currently unable to process asylum applications in the 180 days outlined in the Refugee Act, leaving many applicants in limbo for years. The United Nations Refugee Agency estimates there are 309,794 asylum seekers in South Africa as of January 2010; this number comes from approximately 171,700 cases undecided at the end of 2009 and 138,100 cases undecided at the end of 2008.³ The excessive waiting period to learn if one is a refugee or not cannot be blamed on the applicant and therefore he or she should not be penalized for this.

By counting the years of living in the RSA while under consideration for and after receiving refugee status towards fulfilling the time requirement for naturalization, the law will be standardized in how citizenship eligibility is applied to refugees and permanent residents; both categories of applicants will need to live in the RSA for five continuous years prior to submitting an application. It will also accelerate a refugee's ability to restart and rebuild the life he or she was forced to leave behind upon fleeing his or her country of origin.

Citizenship Through Marriage

The current text on citizenship through marriage states a permanent resident is eligible for naturalization if he or she is married to a South African citizen “ … for a period of not less than two years immediately preceding the date of his or her application and after the date of his or her marriage to such citizen … .” The proposed amendment replaces this text with that which says a permanent resident is eligible if he or she is “… (b) ordinarily resident in the Republic for a prescribed period; and (c) married to such citizen during the period contemplated in paragraph (b) … .” The vague language related to how long – “prescribed period” – someone must reside in the RSA and be married to a South African citizen leaves room for discretionary application of the law and is therefore unacceptable. A defined amount of time should be in the proposed amendment.

Citizenship should be granted to the spouse of a South African citizen if: a) the applicant is either a permanent resident or refugee, b) has been married for at least one year prior to applying, and c) if he or she has lived in the RSA continuously for at least one year prior to applying. Citizenship should be retained even if the marriage is dissolved by choice after two years if the applicant submits an application to be naturalized prior to ending the marriage. If the spouse of a South African citizen is made a widow or widower, citizenship should still be retained even if the death occurred before two years of marriage was attained if the spouse remains a continuous resident in South Africa for two years after the marriage was initiated.

Refugees should be included in the same category as permanent residents. Therefore, a refugee who marries a South African citizen should be eligible to apply for citizenship after at least one year of entering into the aforementioned marriage and living in the RSA for at least one continuous year.

1King Kadende, “The Plight of Refugee Child” (speech, Cape Town, Western Cape, 20 June 2007).

2Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, Pub. L. No. 82-414, 24 December 1952, Stat. 8 U.S.C. 1159.

3United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, “South Africa,” UN Refugee Agency, http://www.unhcr.org/cgi-bin/texis/vtx/page?page=49e485aa6# (accessed on 2 August 2010).

Writing about Africa

A friend just emailed me this link. It is amusing. That is all. Enjoy.

http://www.granta.com/Magazine/92/How-to-Write-about-Africa/Page-1

cUPcake UPdate

I am now officially more than half way through the list of Cape Town's top ten cupcakes. Well, I guess it's technically only exactly half way, but because three of the places listed only sell through websites, and I'm only ordering from one of them, I can now check off five of the eight places I will try.

#3. Lazari Night And Day: Vanilla cake with pink frosting that is actually melted white chocolate. The cake was delicious. I'm not a big fan of white chocolate, but it was still tasty. And so pretty!

#4. Queen of Tarts: Chocolate Chili. I love me some spicy chocolate. I'm fairly certain the chili was only in the frosting, but it left that lovely feeling of your lips burning ever so slightly minutes after taking a bite. The cake was weird, a bit dry. Not my favorite.

#5. Mango Ginger: Chocolate Pear Muffin. So this is technically not a cupcake, but it was on the list. I warmed it up before digging in, which made the inside warm enough to seem like it melted in my mouth, but did nothing to help the dry exterior. Also, I got a bite of not-mixed-in baking soda or salt or something. Not delicious.

Don't worry. I did not eat these all at the same time or even on the same day.

The White African

[Note: I started writing this entry on Saturday, July 31, 2010.]
[Note: I hope you'll accept that I am writing through many thoughts that I might normally keep to myself or whisper quietly to a select few friends. But it is only by putting these ideas out there and hoping that you will help me process them so that I can grow. HELP ME.]

I just got home from watching 'Mugabe and the White African,' a documentary about a family of white farmers who took Robert Mugabe to court over his racist land reform policy that resulted in the seizures of white-owned farms. The two protagonists were Mike Campbell, owner of Mount Carmel Farm, and his son-in-law Ben Freeth. The documentary put a human face on the land redistribution issue that I've read about for the past several years. It was a heartbreaking story of two people who were not only fighting for their right to their home, but for the right to be citizens within their own country. The policy was about land, but the issue was manipulating race to retain and gain power.

There was one part of the film that lasted only, maybe, 30 seconds, but really hit me. Freeth said a white American wouldn't be questioned about being American; a white Australian wouldn't be questioned about being Australian, so why is a white African questioned about being African? The concept of white Africans is something with which I have a hard time rationalizing/understanding/accepting. This might be a very superficial way of thinking of Africa, that it can only be black (though I don't have an issue accepting the national identity of Indians, Coloureds, etc. who live here; this is another issue that requires further consideration. It either means that I categorize all persons of color, or at least all who live in South Africa, as one group, or I don't have a problem accepting them as South Africans because their historic existence here, as far as I know, was not catastrophic for and traumatizing to the native population). But it also is rooted in looking at what white Africans have done to Africa, to black Africa. It is hard to look at the atrocities that were perpetrated all over the continent and think, 'It was a good thing that Europeans emigrated here and decided to make it their home.'

When Freeth framed the issue as he did, I realized that I have no right to question his national identity, just as I feel no one has the right to question my own. This was a bizarre revelation for me considering how I usually think about issues of identity, or at least how I thought I did. Your identity is your own and all I can, and should, do is respect that. Live and let live. Yet for some reason I look out and feel that I have the authority to judge whether or not the ethnic and national identities of white Africans are valid. Frankly, who the heck do I think I am? If I were having a conversation with me about this, I would be very frustrated, maybe even infuriated. And that's pretty much what is happening in my own head.

Again, I think this relates back to my failure to truly consider and grapple with my own role and place and identity in America. In the U.S., my interaction with Native Americans, the peoples who were originally on the land I claim as my own, is, as my dad put it, invisible. I don't know when I interact with someone who has suffered because of the decision by a few Europeans to make this land their home. I don't have to think about the people whose livelihoods and cultures were decimated by the people on the Mayflower or the Founding Fathers. These people are invisible, in the sense that it is not possible to know who is who of the people I interact with every day at home. In South Africa, at least in Cape Town, it is impossible to walk around and not be confronted by the people who called this place home first. Being in South Africa forces me to consider issues that are present in the U.S., but can be ignored. But with this fresh perspective, what can or should I do upon returning home? I can read some books (Alyssa, what's that book you read about the impact of the colonization of the Americas on the indigenous population? I think it was a one-word title, like 'Plague.') and learn more about the reality of how I came to be where I am and what my resident location means for the descendants of those who were here before my ancestors. But then what? [Comments encouraged.]

Another issue related to the ideas of national identity and national unity is when does the past stop defining how the present is understood. Does this ever stop? Should this ever stop? Is it fair for me to define young Afrikaaners I meet today by the actions of their great-great-great grandparents or even their parents? Because that is essentially what I am doing. The mindset I apply to some current issues in South Africa is old. It was true then, but not necessarily now. But should the old truth be forgotten? Does the new truth negate the old one, even if the impact of the old is still present now? Lots of questions to which I do not have the answers. Yet. I'm working on it.

After the movie, I got a ride home from a friend of K who joined us for the film. I mostly kept quiet in the backseat while K and her friend discussed the message of the movie. I find it difficult to have real conversations with most people here. I think it's a mixture of my lack of trust and keeping myself behind a wall and the fact that most people I fraternize with here are friends of convenience, not substance. But that is neither here nor there. K talked about how she doesn't understand why Campbell, Freeth and their families stayed on the farm in the face of constant threats, including actually being abducted and severely beaten, when they could have just left, they could have given up. In my opinion, K clearly wasn't listening to what these people were saying. They were not fighting for themselves, but for a cause, for their countrymen, for their country. They knew that their case, if the SADC court ruled in their favor, would set a precedent for Zimbabwe and all members of SADC. That the case would set a precedent against policies committed by governments against a certain race. That the case would affirm their right to their home, land, citizenship as white Africans in predominately black Africa. They were fighting for a cause in which they believed. Perhaps this message was compounded by the epic story that is Nelson Mandela's autobiography, which I am still reading, and his never ending commitment to the struggle, even in the face of incarceration and the threat of death. But I also believe in fighting for a cause, fighting for something bigger than yourself, fighting for the good of all, fighting for what's right even when it's not easy. Perhaps I'm an optimist. Perhaps I can romanticize this sentiment because I have sacrificed little to nothing for the causes I care about. I'd like to think that my resolve would stand and remain firm even in the face of obstacles. It was extremely frustrating and disheartening to hear K and her friend support the easy way out, to just give up and move on. It is sentiments like these that hinder the great wheel of progress of moving forward. Wow, I sound self-righteous.

K also mentioned how the ending of the film - SPOILER ALERT: despite Campbell and Freeth winning their court case, Mugabe's thugs burnt their farm to the ground and they lost everything - discouraged her interest in a career in law. It had the opposite effect for me. The fact that the rule of law was upheld and that practicing law can influence and force changes to policy is incredibly attractive to me. I hate how many grad school options there are.

How rude of me

I just realized that I've been here for more than two months and have yet to show you around my flat. Let's remedy this with a series of boring pictures. First is a shot of the flat from the door to the bathroom, which is at the right end of the room.

Close up of the left side of the room.

Now some close ups of the kitchenette.

The desk where I spend hours looking at the internet and writing these delightful blog entries for you.

Now a shot of the right side of the room. As you can see, there are two twin beds. I stick to the right side.

The bathroom is nothing special, but I felt the need to show you the toilet. You'll see the knob to the right of the toilet. To turn the water on, and therefore make the toilet work, one must turn the knob to the left; then one turns it to the right to turn the water off. When I first arrived this was not explained to me and I thought the toilet was broken. Now you know, if you ever come upon a toilet that seems to not work but looks like this, how to make it work. You're welcome.

Home Affairs, Shmome Affairs

This morning I faced my fear and went to the Department of Home Affairs to apply for my visa extension. It seems so silly that I need to go through the whole application process for only three days (poor planning on my part), but I'd much rather do it and avoid a R1000 fine per day. Americans automatically receive a 90-day temporary residence permit upon entering South Africa; the visa can be extended for an additional 90 days once. I am based in South Africa for 93 days. I asked a coworker, E, to go with me to Home Affairs because I was too intimidated to go alone. All I heard about the department was negative. Paying the fine (until I learned how much it is) seemed like a much better option than having to confront the dreaded DHA.

I originally planned to go on Friday with E, but he had too much work to do. We decided to postpone the expedition until this morning. I told him I'd be ready to go at 9:30 a.m. sharp. But he never showed up and didn't answer his phone. So I embarked on the journey alone. Well, the actual trip into the city was with the boss, who gave me a ride and dropped me off at the old office location. Apparently he did not receive the memo about the location change. So I asked several security guards (about one every 30 feet) how to get from the old address to the new one. During the car ride into town, the boss made mention that people usually line up starting at 7 a.m. at the department (it was around 11 a.m. when he dropped me off) to be processed. As I exited his car he jokingly said, 'Good luck at Home Affairs.' This did not make me feel any better about going by myself.

After a 20ish-minute walk, I arrived at the ugly grey building next to a highway that houses Cape Town's Department of Home Affairs office. After signing in, I made my way to what I assumed was the correct floor (there were no signs) and got into the line which I assumed was where I belonged. Based on what I had heard of the capabilities of the department, I did not think the line curling out the door down the stairs was odd. So I took my spot at the end and began reading my book. Luckily there was another woman in line who was smarter than I am. Turns out, as someone submitting an application, I needed to go inside of the room and wait on a much shorter queue. Note to self: ask someone who knows what is going on and don't just assume I know. So I took my seat in the room and waited maybe 20 minutes before going up to the counter. I don't really know how long it was, but it wasn't bad. I filed my application with a very accommodating staff person (I didn't know I needed photocopies of my passport; he was nice enough to make them for me). Then I waited in another line to pay the application fee, which was R70 less than what the DHA web site says. Then I left.

I think the whole process took me about an hour. Now I just have to go back to the office at the end of the month, before I leave, to collect the visa. I'm hopeful that it will be as painless as the application. Now I know Home Affairs is nothing of which to be afraid. Well, at least not for an American seeking to extend a tourist visa.

It was 2:30 a.m.

And a security alarm went off somewhere in the near area. Close enough so that I could hear it. I had no idea if it was from the main house to which the guest house is attached. if it was a car alarm. if it was from another house in the neighborhood. The alarm sounded four times during the course of an hour. And for that hour I thought I might be robbed or hurt or even killed. I know this sounds dramatic, but I had just woken up and didn't know what was going on. I stayed in bed, afraid to move, focusing my eyes on the door to the guest house, hoping to see some shadows or movement through the curtains. I strained my ears trying to hear footsteps or breaking glass or anything that might tell me what the heck was going on. I was also hoping to hear police sirens, but they never sounded. I realized that I didn't know the phone number for the police and was too scared to open up my laptop to look it up, thinking that if there was someone outside they would see the light from the screen and know that I was there. I tried to figure out how someone might break in and what I could do to stop or slow their attack. I tried to remember if all of the windows had bars on them, but was too scared to get up and actually check if they did. I remembered how safe everyone told me the area was, but also that the house had, prior to getting an electrified fence, been robbed. I thought about how weak the lock on the dock is. I wished either the boss' sister or stepfather had followed through on their offer to fix the additional lock on the door. I thought about calling the boss, who was not at home, but was the only person I could think to call to figure out what was going on. I felt stupid for not having the phone number to the house or the cell phone number of either the boss' mom or sister. Later, as I became more awake, I realized that the organization's office number was the same as the house; I decided that after the third time the alarm sounded, if it happened again I would call. I figured if I was awake because of the noise, everyone in the house would also be awake. So the alarm sounded for the fourth (and final time) and I called. I tried to keep my phone under the covers to dim the light of the screen, again thinking that it might let someone out there know that I was in here. J, the boss' mom, answered and calmed me down, explaining that the neighboring house's security system was broken and that the tenants were out of town, which meant ADT could not disarm the alarm until they received authorization from a family member. She also offered to let me sleep in the house - the boss was gone so I could sleep in his room. But once I learned that there was no security threat and heard how calm she sounded, I felt safe and fine to sleep where I was. It was a horrible way to spend an hour, thinking of all the worst things that could be lurking outside and feeling helpless to stop them. I went online briefly after talking to J to see if anyone was there to whom I could explain my situation. I just needed to get the craziness of the last hour out of my head. I say thank you to my lovely sister.