So I have had a lot of firsts in Cape Town. My first car, my first apartment, and now my first broken bone. I suppose it only seems fitting.
It was of course the result of an epic adventure and fabulous story: after literally wandering all around Observatory barefoot: over bridges, fences, and highways, I was running up a very flat and very paved road. I tripped trying to catch a frisbee and made some unhappy contact between my foot and the ground. I did catch the frisbee, but I am now headed to see an orthopaedic surgeon tomorrow morning.
I have yet to come up with an optimistic way of describing my experience with the hospital today (I will!), however, I did appreciate how kind the people I encountered were to me. So, another first and so many more to look forward to, but hopefully the others will not be quite this painful.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Just Photos
For more photos than I can upload to this blog and for a quick synopsis of my first two months in South Africa check out this facebok photo album:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2083143&id=40404789&l=7e6ef215bb
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2083143&id=40404789&l=7e6ef215bb
Monday, October 11, 2010
Some recent developments
I have taken great strides in installing myself in Cape Town - I have not only have a place to live, but a car to get around in as well. Meet Buttercup, my first car ever. She is older than I am (87), has a manual choke, and takes 5 keys to operate (steering wheel lock, door lock, ignition lock, immobilizer, and petrol tank lock). She and I zip around Cape Town together, up and down mountains, and I even drove her almost 200 km from Robertson where she lived previously to Cape Town.
This is my new digs (lemme know if you need my address or a translation of this South African term). I'm living in Observatory, a rather "Bohemian" area of Cape Town full of internationals and grad students. Obs is full of surprises and interesting people, so many I have yet to even encounter.
I live with Stephane, the naval engineer from France (he designs bellybuttons), Ewaldi, the sustainable interior designer, and Ed, the out of work sound engineer (both from the east of SA). Each of these people are so much more than the simple sentences that follow their names and attempt to describe all that they do; they are all lovely, and we are fortunate to have such a cohesive and harmonious house of people that found each other purely by chance. And gumtree (SA craigslist).
My house is the little white one with the no parking sign, and yes, that is Table Mountain in the background.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Children's Bereavement
Yesterday I attended a diagnosis of TB in HIV/AIDS positive patients session, children’s bereavement session, laughter therapy session, and the HPCA annual general meeting.
The Sibaya lodge where we are staying is massive, and has the feeling of a luxury resort that is in the middle of nowhere: completely autonomous, and completely transferable. Aside from the South African décor and the musical click-filled languages that are heard in the halls, this lodge could be in many countries, there is little to suggest we are on the outskirts of Durban.
I went to the Children’s bereavement session in the lodge’s nightclub.
Sitting below cages that I imagine are used for dancing in the light of the still revolving disco ball overhead we are learning about a child’s experience of bereavement and the experience of losing of a child. Somehow, the setting doesn’t detract from this rich, albeit devastating topic. In the daytime hours of this artificially lit nightclub we connect and learn from one another, especially highlighting the importance of play in working with children in palliative care.
Play is the invitation to a relationship.
As we describe ourselves and our situations through dolls we are given I look around at the way the dolls are being held - truly held, cradled, or nestled with each hospice and palliative care worker, volunteer, and manager. Through the exercises and sharing, I learnt how many of these people had experienced a significant loss, of a sibling or immediate family member, recently, or in childhood. I was again struck by the openness of this community I’ve stumbled into; each person stood and shared their experience of loss and grief with others who have similar experiences or understandings.
We hear a story:
A young woman wanted a child desperately. After waiting a long time, she finally had a beautiful baby. This baby was perfection in everyway. The woman was completely happy and did everything she could to take care of and love her baby. And then one day the baby grew sick and died. The woman was devastated. Sobbing, she wrapped up and strapped the child to her back. She carried the baby many miles to see a famous medicine man, whom she had heard might be able to heal her baby. She brings the baby to the medicine man and begs him to heal her child. The medicine man says to her, “I will absolutely do this thing that you ask of me, but first you must do something for me”. The woman says, “I will do anything - anything, to heal my baby”. And so the medicine man tells her, “You must bring me a cup of sugar from a house that has not seen loss”. Consenting, the woman goes out into the world looking for this house. She travels from house to house, all over the world, for a very long time. Finally she comes back to the medicine man and she says, “I am ready to bury my child”.
The Sibaya lodge where we are staying is massive, and has the feeling of a luxury resort that is in the middle of nowhere: completely autonomous, and completely transferable. Aside from the South African décor and the musical click-filled languages that are heard in the halls, this lodge could be in many countries, there is little to suggest we are on the outskirts of Durban.
I went to the Children’s bereavement session in the lodge’s nightclub.
Sitting below cages that I imagine are used for dancing in the light of the still revolving disco ball overhead we are learning about a child’s experience of bereavement and the experience of losing of a child. Somehow, the setting doesn’t detract from this rich, albeit devastating topic. In the daytime hours of this artificially lit nightclub we connect and learn from one another, especially highlighting the importance of play in working with children in palliative care.
Play is the invitation to a relationship.
As we describe ourselves and our situations through dolls we are given I look around at the way the dolls are being held - truly held, cradled, or nestled with each hospice and palliative care worker, volunteer, and manager. Through the exercises and sharing, I learnt how many of these people had experienced a significant loss, of a sibling or immediate family member, recently, or in childhood. I was again struck by the openness of this community I’ve stumbled into; each person stood and shared their experience of loss and grief with others who have similar experiences or understandings.
We hear a story:
A young woman wanted a child desperately. After waiting a long time, she finally had a beautiful baby. This baby was perfection in everyway. The woman was completely happy and did everything she could to take care of and love her baby. And then one day the baby grew sick and died. The woman was devastated. Sobbing, she wrapped up and strapped the child to her back. She carried the baby many miles to see a famous medicine man, whom she had heard might be able to heal her baby. She brings the baby to the medicine man and begs him to heal her child. The medicine man says to her, “I will absolutely do this thing that you ask of me, but first you must do something for me”. The woman says, “I will do anything - anything, to heal my baby”. And so the medicine man tells her, “You must bring me a cup of sugar from a house that has not seen loss”. Consenting, the woman goes out into the world looking for this house. She travels from house to house, all over the world, for a very long time. Finally she comes back to the medicine man and she says, “I am ready to bury my child”.
HPCA Conference in Durban
I am now at the HPCA annual conference in Durban. When I got on the airplane to fly to Kwa Zulu Natal I realized: I forgot my camera. I will just have to increase the quality of my words to attempt to capture all that I have seen and learnt here.
In a room of 450 hospice and palliative delegates from all types of end-of-life care around South Africa, I recognize the great knowledge and experience that surrounds me. As a young, relatively-inexperienced, human enthusiast I am fortunate to sit in this room and gain from all their wisdom. I have so much to learn, but this conference is a great introduction. It lets me better understand HPCA and network with all the best intentions. The practical skills I have already learnt are mainly applicable in end-of-life care, but are transferable to other issues I care deeply about – for example counseling of survivors of sexual assault.
It feels as if every couple of minutes I meet someone who will be a fantastic contact in evaluating the gender guidelines of HPCA. I have gotten much better, after just today, at walking up to someone and saying, “Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here doing such-and-such, and I am introducing myself to you because I think you could be a great contact for such-and-such”. People have been so receptive, and I’ve already been invited to about 7 different cities and set up a number of crucial contacts.
Occasionally, I take a step back and wonder, when did I grow up and become someone that goes to professional conferences? In venues with ballrooms centered around ice sculptures? How did I become a part of an organization that receives a personalized video message from Desmond Tutu commending their work? I do not know, but recognize how fortunate I am to be a part of this group.
In my two days at this conference I have realized more about how much I have to learn, and how much I have already learnt. I am most definitely operating on a steep learning curve, and although it’s been a bit of an information overload, I have not grown tired of any of the sessions or topics. On the contrary, I’ve been attending all the sessions I can to get as much information as possible to inform and support my research here. I would be terribly sad to do HPCA a disservice by starting an evaluation of any kind before I really have a sense of the organization and its work.
In a room of 450 hospice and palliative delegates from all types of end-of-life care around South Africa, I recognize the great knowledge and experience that surrounds me. As a young, relatively-inexperienced, human enthusiast I am fortunate to sit in this room and gain from all their wisdom. I have so much to learn, but this conference is a great introduction. It lets me better understand HPCA and network with all the best intentions. The practical skills I have already learnt are mainly applicable in end-of-life care, but are transferable to other issues I care deeply about – for example counseling of survivors of sexual assault.
It feels as if every couple of minutes I meet someone who will be a fantastic contact in evaluating the gender guidelines of HPCA. I have gotten much better, after just today, at walking up to someone and saying, “Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here doing such-and-such, and I am introducing myself to you because I think you could be a great contact for such-and-such”. People have been so receptive, and I’ve already been invited to about 7 different cities and set up a number of crucial contacts.
Occasionally, I take a step back and wonder, when did I grow up and become someone that goes to professional conferences? In venues with ballrooms centered around ice sculptures? How did I become a part of an organization that receives a personalized video message from Desmond Tutu commending their work? I do not know, but recognize how fortunate I am to be a part of this group.
In my two days at this conference I have realized more about how much I have to learn, and how much I have already learnt. I am most definitely operating on a steep learning curve, and although it’s been a bit of an information overload, I have not grown tired of any of the sessions or topics. On the contrary, I’ve been attending all the sessions I can to get as much information as possible to inform and support my research here. I would be terribly sad to do HPCA a disservice by starting an evaluation of any kind before I really have a sense of the organization and its work.
Alma Cafe
Last Sunday I helped out at Alma Café. It is a beautiful little “ma and pa” type place that hasn’t left the South Africa of the 60s and 70s where local, live music, was the vital essence of the city and where food was hearty, wholesome, and Afrikaans. I helped serve the 30 or so people that came in to hear live music and eat Rhetta’s Afrikaans set-menu dinner.
I love all that you can learn about a place by being behind the scenes.
Last week I attended their Wednesday evening program and was struck by the raw talent of the musicians that played and by the home-ness that I felt in the place even on my first entry. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows a little bit too much about one another, and is happy to tell you about it, but all good natured - because no one really cares if everyone else knows.
In the kitchen I see this is the kind of family and the kind of place that I want to be involved in, that I want to invest in and connect to while here in Cape Town. From Richard’s patchwork jeans and love of Led Zeppelin, telling me running a restaurant is like being in a rock band (and he’s done both), to Rhetta’s sending me home with food (the greatest gift someone can give me now I’m cooking for one); these are great people.
I love all that you can learn about a place by being behind the scenes.
Last week I attended their Wednesday evening program and was struck by the raw talent of the musicians that played and by the home-ness that I felt in the place even on my first entry. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows a little bit too much about one another, and is happy to tell you about it, but all good natured - because no one really cares if everyone else knows.
In the kitchen I see this is the kind of family and the kind of place that I want to be involved in, that I want to invest in and connect to while here in Cape Town. From Richard’s patchwork jeans and love of Led Zeppelin, telling me running a restaurant is like being in a rock band (and he’s done both), to Rhetta’s sending me home with food (the greatest gift someone can give me now I’m cooking for one); these are great people.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Gifts
I have now been in Cape Town for just over a week and I am ever so appreciative of all that has been given to me already. There have been so many kind and wonderful people that have helped me out, given me food, rides, time, music, and kindness, all without obligation and without expectations.In the first week I was here I met a young woman who, within an hour of meeting me, invited me to go to a cottage in the mountains with her and her friends for the weekend. It was a lovely trip, the mountains were beautiful, we made deliciously-entirely-vegetarian food, drank red wine from the Western Cape, and I made friends with strong, adventure-seeking, impassioned women.
This evening, the woman who I'm staying with invited me to the opening of an art exhibition at the Irma Stern Museum (named for the world's best-selling South African artist). The exhibit was of the illustrations of Fiona Moodie, an internationally renowned Children's book illustrator. I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend an evening. I was completely enchanted by her etchings, and wanted, quite literally, to dwell in her paintings, all night.
There have been countless instances of the gifts that people are willing to share with me here, and I am ever so grateful.
Arrival in Cape Town and to HPCA
Hello from Cape Town!I have arrived, and am quite content in this new, beautiful, vivacious city. I am struck by how fortunate I am to be here for almost a year; I cannot imagine a greater opportunity fresh out of St. Olaf with a bachelors in sociology and anthropology.
I will be in Cape Town through June of 2011, studying gender and sexual health in end-of-life care. I will be working with the Hospice and Palliative Care Association of South Africa (HPCA), and in collaboration with the University of Cape Town School of Public Health and Family Medicine to evaluate recently instated gender guidelines at HPCA.
What does gender have to do with palliative care you might ask? It's a question I've already gotten a lot. HPCA has developed the gender guidelines to highlight the way one's gender affects one's experience with end-of-life care. It is important to realise this is not only a question of promoting awareness of womens' issues, but rather of better understanding of the role gender plays in providing the highest-quality-possible, wholistic, palliative care.
This research project presents me with a steep learning curve: I have already learnt so much about all that HPCA values and how important addressing gender is in end-of-life care, but I have a great deal to learn, and a wonderful opportunity to spend time doing so.
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