I didn’t realize how nervous I would be entering my home stay but as I left the bus my mind was racing about the awkward situation I would be put into. I am staying in Bonila which is in Cato Manor a couple minutes drive out of downtown Durban. Cato Manor was a township that was cleared out during the Group Areas Act in the 50s. In the 80s people started to move back in, which is happening in large numbers (Black and Indian), but there is still a lack of businesses. There are “tuck shops” which are stores out of peoples houses, and the legendary Shabeens, which are homes that brew beer and act somewhat like a bar. How can I explain Bonila? Well we have been told taxi’s wont go there, but I have been running so it can’t be that bad. I think people don’t like to drive there because you have to drive by shacks to get there, but the neighborhood seems pleasant enough. I did recently visit the shacks with a youth group, but that is for another time.
…Back to the home stay: my “mother” welcomed me and I sat on the couch as she got my bed ready. They have a TV, which is constantly on-not an abnormal thing for the families we are staying with. Most of the times, soaps are on which are pretty painful to watch. I was told prior to getting dropped off that I would be staying with a single mother and her 24 year old son. Well, the son doesn’t live with her, but she remarried to a man who had 4 previous children all staying in the house. A 16 year old boy, and three girls- ages 18, 13, and 10. When I arrived, there was a girl there who I assumed to be one of the daughters but she was my mother’s niece and the children were away for the weekend. (In Zulu culture, you don’t ever call your mother by her first name, and husbands and wives don’t call each other by their first names. Instead its “mama,” or in the husbands case, it would be “Mother of…the first born male.) The house is one story with three bedrooms. I got put in a room by myself with a nice size bed that pretty much takes up the whole room, while the four children cram into one room with a couple bunk beds. I feel kinda bad, but enjoy the time that I can get alone to read and write( Though the noise from the Shabeen next to me is sometimes distracting).
I didn’t realize how conscience I would be about my actions not wanting to be rude. After getting served, which I haven’t completely gotten used to, we prayed. Note: the Father never touches a dish, and even when he is sitting next to the spoons, he will make one of the girls get up to get one for him. Its an interesting relationship, the mom jokes around with him and tells him to go running with me to lose a little something (ie his stomach.) The Friday was very confusing. There was the girl, who I thought was the daughter, and there were two older woman, who turned out to be my mother’s church friends staying for the weekend. After dinner, they gathered around to pray. I was pretty awkward and didn’t really know what to do- I’ve never prayed. The mother asked her niece, Sibahle who is 13, to sing. I was truly shocked when the girl began to sing. It was the most beautiful voice I had ever heard-it made me somewhat emotional (I wonder what the father would have thought if I would have started to cry.) After Sibahle sang, everyone joined in a harmonized religious song in Zulu. The experience was extremely overwhelming but something that will definitely stick with me.
After going to bed I woke up in the morning not really sure how to conduct myself in their culture. I was very confused about the bathing. I was wondering if they fill the water up a little and kinda splash it on themselves. Do they stand? I definitely heard splashing. I decided to fill it up not too much, splash myself, and get out quickly. The whole day Saturday I spent with Sibathle. We watched TV and movies and talked about a whole bunch of things. She continued to shock me the whole day with how smart she was. She plays a different sport on each day of the week, sings choir during lunch, and somehow does art too. Later in the night, we ate dinner, WHICH SHE COOKED!! Later we drove her home to her parents and I got to meet her family. I was happy to meet her family, but sad that I wouldn’t be seeing her for awhile.
On Sunday, we went to church. Quite an experience. The morning was hectic: the mother had to pick up the car at the cleaners, go get the pastor from the airport, my father, Sazi, was calling his kids seeing if they were going to church ect. We sat outside the church for a while waiting for a previous service to end. They then told me to go upstairs to where the service would be held while they waited and talked outside. While I assumed their church would be large, it was not, and I awkwardly walked into the room on the second floor of the YMCA where there were a couple people getting the place ready. After sitting in a chair for about 20 minutes, my mother came in. At this point, a man told me to come sit in the front of the church. (Again awkward-kinda the theme of the weekend). The mother told him to translate the service into English for me which he did. I felt like the service was almost like an AA meeting, where anyone could get up and tell their story about how they were lost and then found Jesso Chisto. One woman started singing and began crying while she prayed. Definitely overwhelming for me (another theme of the weekend). Another awkward moment was when they collected money at the front. Everyone could see me, and I felt pressure to give some money. I wanted to give money but only had an hundred on me so I sat their, awkwardly, and did nothing. The service was quick and after, my home stay parents stood around talking to their friends. While I have problems with how Christianity was brought onto South Africans it reminded me of a central reason why people go to church: the community.
That night the children came home. First the oldest. She didn’t talk to me and I felt *awkward* that I didn’t say hello and introduce myself to her (I have found out that she talks to me in great depth, but only when her parents are out). The other 3 came home and the boy sat down and talked to me. I went to sleep exited to see my classmates who felt distant after a weekend away.
Next up: a week in school, going into the shack area, going to my first
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