ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER

This past Saturday, 4 August 2007, I stood amid what looked like chaos, with mountains of responsibility and people at me from all sides requesting my urgent advice or help with some emergency task, and I thought to myself: this is it; it’s all been leading up to this. It was the kick-off for the Tithembheni Tshamahansi HIV Testing Drive.

But more about that later.

In previous entries, I’d mentioned ths South African workers’ strike and its effect on my life and the lives of other South Africans. Well, the strike ended after about 4 weeks, at the end of June / early July. Things are now back to normal; schools are playing “catch-up” to try to recover some of their lost time.

Although the schools were closed for the entire month of June, I didn’t have a single day off. Erica and I were busy with meetings related to our HIV projects every single day; multiple meetings on some days. This was the pattern for two full weeks; on the third week, I left Tshamahansi for 4 weeks (I had to, and it a terrible time for me to be away with regards to the project). First I went to Johannesburg and took the GRE exam; I’m happy to say that I did well.

After Jo’burg, I went to Pretoria and onto my group’s Peace Corps Close-Of-Service (COS) Conference. This was basically three days of dealing with the past two years, discussing policies and procedures with regards to leaving our villages and returning home, and reflecting on accomplishments and challenges. Because of the 90-day early leave policy for school or work (i.e. if you are a volunteer in “good standing”, have fulfilled your duties, and have a job or school to go back to, you can leave country up to 90 days early), our COS Conference was in late June, and some of my fellow volunteers have been leaving South Africa, having completed their service, since early July. As for me, I’m still here for two more months, and I can’t even think of the end of my service at this point. There’s still much too much to do before then.

After the COS Conference, Erica and I went to the Drakensberg Mountains for some spectacular hiking. Those of you back in the States might be confused at the thought of hiking through the snow in Africa in June, but that’s exactly what we did. The snow-covered peaks of the Draknesberg are breathtaking, and there are some pictures (which do NOT do the views justice) on Erica’s blog.

We eventually left the Drakensberg and returned to Pretoria just in time for the 4th of July; I was able to see another PCV, Tom Kulkinski, throw a pie into the Ambassador’s face (I’m not joking) at the Embassy July 4th Party. That was quite a sight.

I also had a whirlwind, quick, hectic trip home to New York to see my family; my first time in America in 23 months, and I was only there for barely a week. Seeing immediate family and a few close friends was great, but there were many more family and friends that I didn’t get a chance to see, or even to speak with. I guess I’ll have to wait until I return home for good next April for that chance.

Being in New York was surreal; I felt out of place. It felt much more natural for me to return back to South Africa. As I exited the OR Tambo Airport in Jo’burg and walked out into the winter air, I felt at home. That complacency didn’t last long, though, because I was immediately thrust back into the heaps of work that had to be done for my HIV project.

Before I even had time to adjust and unpack my things, I was busy with meetings, running around and coordinating different things for the project. (Literally: I had to go meet someone from the Municipality even before I was able to return to Tshamahansi from my trip) From meetings with my committee to updates from my beading group to shopping trips to town to buy supplies for the project or make thousands of photocopies to meetings with the Municipality, to meetings with the Red Cross, Thobela FM, Anglo Platinum, to writing and delivering invitations, to arranging for supplies and delivery, and so on, things did just NOT STOP. And that says nothing about time spent helping Erica with her project. I was so busy, in fact, that I have STILL not been back to any of my schools.

I’m not going to talk about Erica’s kick-off function on 28 July, the preparations that went into it, or the frustrations and successes of the day, here. I’ll leave that to Erica on her blog. (Click here)

Last week, from 30 July until 3 August, was amazingly hectic. Friday, 3 August, was a non-stop day, the least stressful part of which involved riding around on a donkey cart collecting large, heavy iron pots (and “driving” at one point), and the most stressful part—well, I won’t get into it. There’s a lot that goes into a village-based function, and so many things had to be done on Friday. At 6:00 in the morning, before the sun was up, the cow I had purchased was to be delivered to the school grounds (where the event would take place). Bernard, a Grade 11 student and one of the hardest-working members on my committee, volunteered to be there so early, and when the cow was delivered at 6, he helped tie the very LARGE cow to a tree. At 2pm that day, a group of elderly village men who had volunteered to slaughter the cow did their job; it was the first time I’d ever seen a cow slaughter from up close from beginning to end, and it was vicious. I won’t go into the gory details (of which there are many), but I will say that cows are much stronger and tenacious animals than you might realize. I mean, the poor beast’s head was almost the entire way off and its legs were still moving, trying to stand itself up. It did not go quietly, quickly, or easily.

Eventually the cow was skinned, portioned, and cut into small pieces which were cooked on Saturday. We were told that we couldn’t leave the cow meat at the school overnight because the tsotsis from my village (there are many) would break into the school and steal it all. So we asked the old men to stay overnight and look after the meat. They agreed, on one condition: beer. That was simple enough, so after we bought them beer, they were content. I’m sure they had a blast that night; an old-man drunken sleepover party.

I also realized on Friday that cow intestines (“mogodu”) are a very prized delicacy, and the dispute for the mogodu between the cooking ladies and the old men was another headache for me, piled onto all of the rest. Thankfully Eric Mphande, from Anglo Platinum, was there helping us out that day, and he was able to mediate the dispute. I have no idea what ever ended up happening to the mogodu, or whoever ended up eating it.

Between Friday, Saturday, and (to an extent) Sunday, I worked myself and stressed myself out more than I thought possible; I exhausted myself so much that I got physically sick and was bed-ridden for large portions of Sunday and Monday.

The bottom line, though, the reason for all of the effort—the event on Saturday—was a huge success. Let me break it down like this: the Mogalakwena Municipality showed up with their 125 promised tee-shirts, plus Madam Kgobe, the Municipal Speaker, to serve as MC and the Honourable Mayor, Bob Mmola, to give the Keynote Address. The Department of Health showed up with nurses, catering for VIPs, and some ladies to assist our community-based volunteer women in cooking for everybody. The Red Cross showed up with 11 VCT Counsellors, 2 HIV ambassadors, and a lot of promotional materials. Anglo Platinum helped out with a lot of stuff. Coca Cola brought squeeze bottles for people testing, plus their Road Show, complete with DJ, sound system, and stage. Thobela FM (the biggest radio station in the province, with hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of listeners—they refer to themselves as a “Weapon of Mass Instruction”) brought broadcasters, entertainment acts, and an HIV ambassador. Mamolefe, my contact at Thobela, gave a great speech about how we are all “either infected or affected.” Over 1000 people showed up; 114 were tested for HIV during the course of just a few hours, and many more (about 50-75) were queued up, waiting to get tested when the counsellors finally said that they were done for the day. We had a pastor and a traditional healer do the opening prayers; the local Induna (headman) gave the welcome. The programme went off well; the day’s message (“Get tested, know your status, and be proud!”) came through loud and clear.

For a long time leading up to the event, it didn’t seem like things would turn out that way, though. Even at 10:00 on Saturday, when the event was supposed to start, and nobody had showed up, I was doubting whether things would work out at all. It turned out, there were three funerals in the village that morning. Plus, the two most popular soccer teams in the country were playing each other that day. So, although the people came late, they did come out in large numbers eventually.

Another huge headache involved a realization that I had come to a long time ago, but which was reinforced over and over and over again in the weeks and days leading up to the event: ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

The local Ward Councillor (the village’s representative to the Municipality), Doma Gubayi, had been “on board” the project since its beginning in February. He always sounded excited, saying how much he supported the project. He wouldn’t really show up to our meetings, but he kept reiterating his support. I let this slide because, in all honesty, he is a very busy man. But when push came to shove, he maliciously abandoned his responsibilities with regards to the project at the very last minute. I won’t go into the details, but his abandonment and utter lack of any sense of responsibility came to light on Wednesday, only 3 days before the event. This led to a heated phone argument, some frantic last-minute phone calls, and a big headache.

Doma, I’ve come to realize, was only involved in the project in order to take credit for himself and to make himself look better. He is an elected politician, after all. And listening to him explain things, you might be inclined to sympathize with him...his words are convincing. But his actions were inexcusable, and actions speak louder than words.

In the same line, it was at these last-minute changes of plan and last-minute work that I really realized whose help I could count on. People in South Africa, ESPECIALLY those in positions of power, are skeptics when it comes to youth; they don’t believe that the youth are responsible, dedicated, or hard-working. They would never trust anything in the youths’ hands. (They forget that it was the YOUTH who provided the biggest uprising against apartheid, back in 1976) And so, when people saw the dedication, hard work, and long hours that my committee was putting into this project, they were surprised. My committee, as a matter of fact, consists entirely of Grade 11 and 12 students.

They worked so hard, moving hundreds of tables and chairs, putting newspapers on the windows of all of the school’s classrooms so that they would be used as VCT rooms (newspapers were needed to ensure confidentiality, so that nobody could peer through the windows), helping me with all of the manual and logistical work that goes into making a function a success, but which is never recognized or thanked by the people in power. Then, after the function was over, they spent Saturday evening and Sunday putting everything back and cleaning up.

Eric, from Anglo Platinum, was also a huge help, transporting supplies, mediating disputes (as I mentioned above), and just providing extra manpower and advice in those crucial final days. And my friend Tom came all the way to Tshamahansi from his village near Bushbuckridge, a full day’s taxi ride away, to help out with the project. Tom’s help was huge; he single-handedly organized and controlled the people who were queued up waiting for their HIV test on Saturday.

My biggest help, though, was my partner on this project from the beginning, Erica. When the stress verged on becoming too much, when I was about to lose it and blow up yelling in someone’s face, or cursing them out, when I was lamenting the inevitable failure of the entire project, she stepped up and provided exactly the help that was needed. She did almost as much work to help the Tithembheni Tshamahansi HIV Testing Drive Kick Off Function as I did.

As I mentioned above, my committee worked so long, and so hard, and so tirelessly on the project. Since February we’ve met weekly (more often than that, for some of us), together every step of the way. The Municipality had been helping us out, on and off, since March, and got more involved in early June. But when a local Municipal Councillor got up on stage at the beginning of the function, she mentioned very loudly into the microphone that this was a MUNICIPALITY event, which it was obviously not. (Obviously they were trying to take credit; they didn’t want to be upstaged by a bunch of kids and an American) This upset some of my committee members, and when they mentioned it to each other, a representative from the Department of Health overheard and told them to, basically, shut up because they’re “just ushers.” That’s just one example of the bad treatment and lack of respect that these kids got. There are many.

One of the most telling examples of the disrespect, though, happened later on in the day. We had arranged food for everyone, but there was separate catering for VIPs. VIP catering was provided by the Department of Health; this being my project and my function, though, I was insistent that my committee eat as VIPs. When they finally did show up to eat with the VIPs, though, after having overseen the food for everyone else and (in some cases) worked as food servers, they were treated with utter disrespect by the VIP caterers, who were basically yelling at them, saying “I shouldn’t be serving you KIDS this VIP food!” I wasn’t there to see that, but thankfully Erica was there to stand up for the committee and put the bitchy caterers in their place.

Not everyone was as blinded or as self-centered as those VIP caterers or that Councillor, though. Tom was amazed by the work these “kids” were doing, and told me as much. My comittee members’ teachers were beaming with pride at the work their students were doing. The Red Cross was so impressed that they have invited my committee to join the Red Cross. And Eric, from Anglo Platinum, has offered to support them in the future, commenting repeatedly on how impressed he was with their hard work. My biggest joy of the day came at seeing the long queues for HIV testing, but hearing these people praise my committee was a very close second. I’m very proud of them.

Personally, I’ve always believed that a person’s intentions mean as much as their actions; it’s an important part of Islamic morality. If you have good intentions, then your good actions will be recognized. But if your intentions are bad (i.e. doing something “just for show”), then your actions are, in effect, worthless. In preparing for the function, however, I’ve realized that even good things can happen if the participants’ intentions aren’t pure. It’s the “actions speak louder” theory.

Sure, the Municipalilty wants the credit for the event; its members are elected and they need to justify their existence to the population. But that doesn’t discount the help that they gave to the project. And sure, Anglo Platinum is a big mining corporation, and they need good PR to get the locals on their side; it will make it easier for them when they eventually decide they want to mine for platinum under our villages and relocate everyone. But that doesn’t discount the help that they gave us. And, sure, the Peace Corps is a tool of the US Government meant to support America’s fragile (dare I say, shattered) image around the world, to counter its more domineering foreign policy elsewhere. But that doesn’t discount the work that we do. The fact is, everyone was in this for their own selfish reasons, but the actions themselves were anything but selfish. And that’s the belief on which our entire testing drive hinges: most people probably won’t get tested for the right reasons; they will get tested for the chance of winning 5000 Rand. But in getting tested, they will be confronting their own behavior and taking the first step towards responsibility of their own health.

(On a more sinister note, I recently discovered, purely by accident and coincidence, that the Municipality quite possibly stole FIFTY of the tee-shirts they were supposed to provide us. These shirts were meant to be given out to people who are tested as part of the project, on a first-come first-serve basis. The Municipality, however, took fifty of these tee shirts and gave them out to their employees for a separate event. If this is true, it is utter theft and dishonesty on the part of the Municipality. I have a meeting scheduled with Madam Speaker; I’m going to raise hell.)


The Kick-Off Event is not the entire Tithembheni Tshamahansi HIV Testing Drive, though. The real work is in getting people to keep testing for these 4 weeks, until 1 September, when we will have our final function. The final function on 1 September won’t be as hard to plan as the kick-off was, and I’m not as worried about it. In fact, I think it will be kind of fun!

On Tuesday I made arrangements with the Red Cross and Department of Health, and they brought their Mobile Clinic, 2 nurses, and 3 VCT Counselors to one of the local High Schools in my village. The demand was amazing; the students queued for hours for a chance to test, and many more were waiting when, after hours of testing, the nurses and counsellors declared that they were through testing for the day. If we can keep that kind of demand going, then we will reach our goal of 600 people tested. We’ll see how that goes.

I know that my own intentions are pure, and I’m hoping for the best.

Erica and Macdonald, my right-hand man in planning everything.

Not so long earlier, that had been a cow.

Patrick, a late-addition to my committee, and a VERY dedicated worker, doing his trilingual HIV hip-hop. Madam Speaker (seated) seemed to enjoy it.

Me and the Committee.

Patrick, Michael, and T.K. show off their new shirts.

Crowd shot. Sponsors galore.

People seemed to enjoy the day's festivities.

Macdonald giving his speech (with other Committee members behind him for support). My favorite part: "The youth of 1976 came together to stand against apartheid. Now it's time again for the youth to stand together against HIV and AIDS."

Erica and I, tired, towards the end of the day.

Bernard reading off the announcements.

Giving my speech.

Tom is tall. Florence, from the Red Cross, is short. Hilarity ensued!

Committee members serving food.