Umdeni wami wakwaZulu Natal (My kwaZulu Natal Family)

I’ve been living with my homestay family in Cato Manor (a township in KZN that was torn down during apartheid due to too much racial mixing but was rebuilt by Mandela et al.) for a week now. We originally just got a basic information sheet, so I knew that I was going to be staying with mama Lucy who had an 12-year old granddaughter Londiwe (pronounced LawnDEEway). Needless to say, we were all nervous, having so little information and isiZulu language comprehension skills. As Thula (our trusty program administrative assistant/language teacher/comic relief/driver) snaked through Cato Manor and dropped off girls, our butterflies calmed down when we saw girl after girl getting a warm reception from their mama. (They were told beforehand that us Americans like hugs!)

When my turn came I was surprised, excited, and (let’s be honest) a little scared to see an adorable two year old greeting me. (This was not on the information sheet!) It turns out that two year old Simphwe (pronounced SimPEEway) and his mom Nobuhle (NoBUHle…but the hl makes a spitty retainer sound) have been living with mama Lucy (who is actually Nobuhle’s aunt).

I have a hunch that Mama Lucy is actually one of the coolest people I will get to know on this trip, but it’s going to be hard work to prove it. She has basic English skills, but I struggle with talking just with her because Londiwe is fluent and much easier to converse with. (Obviously I haven’t gotten past “Hi. How are you?” in Zulu.)

Last week though I had two great break-throughs. The first was initiated by mama who brought out her old apartheid-era passbook, some glasses lens cleaner (thanks!), and a catalogue of items made by an artists’ collective she’s a part of. She is (Bridget, get ready to be way jealous) in charge of making crocheted items out of used plastic bags. I tried to make the point that I want to learn really, really, really bad. Hopefully we can work that out. On top of that inconsistent income, she receives a government stipend for caring for Londiwe (whose father passed away eight years ago), money from SIT for taking in students (I’m her fourth), and money from her informal business of icy-pop selling out of the freezer (milkshake mix + water + sugar put in a sandwich bag and frozen…yum!).

The second great break-through was going to church with mama Lucy. That woman knows how to do church! When we were walking to church, I saw mama more excited than I had yet. She practically ran to the man recording the announcements to tell him that I was a guest (everyone in the church said “Obama Obama” when they found out that I was from the States) before rushing me to a seat. She’s a part of the special church ladies that dance in and out a few times (Mama knows how to get down!) so she joined me after a few minutes. She was sure to point out where we were in the service order book so I could stumble along in bad Zulu and grabbed my hand to dance with her at the end of the service.

Hopefully I can hop over to an internet café sometime and upload some pictures, but suffice to say that my family is fantastic!