School's out!

"Where are my notes, have they also gone on strike?" --High Court in Johannesburg judge Frans Kgomo on finding he had no stenographer during a public servants' strike, 12 August 2010

Last year I learned a lot about minority political movements, in particular how poor and marginalized people create influence politically and socially.

Because workers generally have little political power, strikes are often their only "weapon" to assert their demands.

South African workers in a variety of crucial sectors have recently gone on strike, including car manufacturing workers, transportation workers, home affairs and teachers. As a result, seven car plants have been temporarily closed, Metrorail has been flooded with demonstrations, immigration services have been closed temporarily, and schools have been empty for a week.

Obviously the intended effect of these strikes have been to cause attention and disruption, but (schools in particular) they have had disasterous effects as well. What kind of education can be provided in such a fragmented and disrupted environment? According to a recent article, Soweto schools have been the worst affected by the strike. (As South Africa's largest black township, Soweto is famous for the "Soweto uprisings" during apartheid when mass protests against government policies resulted in the deaths of rioters when police opened fire on 10,000 marching students.)

In environments where teachers feel they have no other political options but to strike, the effect is that pupils who want to learn cannot. The article quotes a Grade 12 student who said, "The teachers said we much come today. We were supposed to write a test and now the school is closed. That means I won't be writing today and that's bad for me."

In addition, on the first day of teacher strikes in Cape Town, seven cars were stolen in Tamboerskloof and a friend's apartment was broken into--which he attributes to kids (although this can't be proven yet).

Nelson Mandela writes in his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom, that "[a] freedom fighter learns the hard way that it is the oppressor who defines the nature of the struggle," and essentially, the oppressed has no choice but to "use methods that mirror those of the oppressor."

Even though Mandela is speaking about fighting "fire with fire" and mirrors Malcolm X's famous "by any means necessary" speech, it provides an interesting backdrop to the teachers strike.

The teachers strike--perhaps effective, perhaps not--has the foreseen consequence of negatively effecting the education of their students. At what point is it worth it, to the detriment of uninvolved third parties? Are teacher's first responsibility to their students, or is (hopefully) creating policy and social change for the long run more important? Do teachers have other options instead of striking? Or has the "oppressor" defined the environment of protest so narrowly that teachers have no other choice but to strike?

Which one is it?

"Procrastination is the bad habit of putting off until the day after tomorrow what should have been done the day before yesterday" --Napoleon Hill

"Time you enjoyed wasting is not wasted time" --T.S. Elliot

So I suppose it's a bit of both. And performing that balancing act has become a pretty enjoyable experience in Cape Town. On pretty days (like today) I choose to walk to work--rather, I choose to walk to a nearby cafe for coffee and breakfast to do my morning emails, and then make my way to the downtown minibus station to take a R5 ride to work.

Arriving at the office in the early afternoon, I'll chat with my office mates--which gives the guise of productivity when we talk about policy matters in the US and here.

Or I'll spend some time with J.S. and get my daily update on the state of the world through the lens of a sarcastic and cynical man (and people question the fact we're soul mates) while organizing my calendar for the week or download additional articles.

In other words, I'm really just improving my multitasking skills.

Oh hey there blogosphere

So, it’s been a while! But life has been good—and Cape Town continues to treat me excellently.

It’s somewhat difficult to think about what to say, not because I think my days are mundane (because lets be real—I generally avoid boring at all costs), but because everyday life is sometimes difficult to put into words. What have I been up to? Umm…I don’t know…STUFF! :)

Let’s start with work—the past month I’ve been doing interviews with key people who were involved in creating this specific health policy I’ve been researching. I was kind of nervous the night before my first interview, but I was able to relax after a long Skype chat with my professor back home. It’s weird talking to you guys back home—seeing familiar faces set in familiar settings is a little surreal through a webcam.

So for my first interview, I met up with [this person] at [this place] and travelled with them to first attend an NGO coalition meeting where [this person] was briefly explaining a different policy about community health workers (CHWs) to NGOs and individual CHWs at their annual meeting. I won’t get into CHWs because it’s long and I wouldn’t want to bore you with policy jargon (even though it makes me sound really important and well informed).

Longish story shorter—we chatted, I learned more about the policy, and I went on my merry way.

I’ve had a few more interviews after the first one, but like most everything else I’ve encountered working here, I’ve learned to be flexible and change my game plan at a moments notice. After the initial interview, my other “informants” didn’t really know anything specific about the policy! I’ve gotten to a few meetings, realized instantly that they’re not the person I should be talking to, and have to improvise my entire interview. Which has actually still turned out to be helpful—the best info is sometimes what people tell you that you wouldn’t expect anyways.

My favorite interview so far wasn’t because of the information gleaned, but the location of the interview. I took the train with a friend down to Kalk Bay—a fishing town about an hour away from Cape Town, absolutely gorgeous and just a really cool little town.

One side note: It’s been really frustrating to hear about people’s qualms about public transportation here—believing that if I ride a minibus or take the train I’m sure to be mugged, attacked, or experience other forms of violence. Chill out people. If you’re smart and take the normal precautions anyone would in any city in the world, then public transport here is no less safe than DC or Kigali. But just for Dad’s concern—I never take an empty minibus or train car, or travel at night. You’re welcome.

Anyways. That’s been work. Fun times.

Other than that—I’ve had to say goodbye to most of my friends at the guesthouse and watch them fly away back to Germany. It’s sad saying goodbye to people knowing that in all likelihood, we’ll never see each other again. Such is life.

Every Saturday we always go to the Biscuit Mill--this really fantastic market with fresh veggies, cheeses, baked goods, and unbelievably delicious sandwiches, crepes, burgers...the list goes on and on. It's a good tradition.

The other week, my roommate, her boyfriend and I (you know you’re good friends when you don’t feel like the third wheel out to dinner with a couple…) went to the Mt Nelson Hotel for Wine and Dine. And yes, it was exactly as pretentious as it sounds and still absolutely amazing. Each month, this really fancy hotel showcases a South African wine farm by pairing a six course meal with their different wines. The family comes to the event and talks about the wine and the farm throughout the meal.

This was our second “wine and dine,” and THIS time, I learned not to drink ALL the wine they give you (seeing as the continuously refill them). Being quite drunk in an incredibly fancy dinner is an unsettling feeling.

I feel like that’s a perfect way to end this entry.