Thinking On A Plane:
Monday, May 15th 03:30
If you are anything like me, when you
find yourself on a long flight you do a lot of thinking. Mostly about
stupid stuff like: "why did God make raisins? That was a dumb move" or
"wow, I'm in a steel tube darting through the air at 600 mph." But, then
again, you think about important things. You think about your mom
because its Mother's Day. And then you think about James Taylor and her
obsession with him. You look out the window and see the vast ocean
before you. You think about what that means and how you can't think of a
good enough answer. You think about that song "Oceans" and then about
Todd Fernandez (of course.) You think about how cold that dark blue
water must be and how great the warmth in this steel carcass really is.
You think about how eventually you'll see the African mainland and how
you'll probably be disappointed and unimpressed because it will look
just like home--green, alive, kinda like broccoli when you view it from
your throne in the sky. You think about that terrible song by Toto
called "Africa" and whether or not you too will miss the rain down in
Africa on your way home. You think of all the things the word "Africa"
has meant to you since your childhood and how most of them were
misinformed. You think and you think and you think and you find it hard
to think about anything concrete. You feel incomplete as you think.
I basked in that incompleteness and
realized that's why I'm here, on this plane, in the first place. Due to
my incompleteness, I'm searching for experience and guidance--and
sometimes that means finding myself very far from home. I haven't even
seen it yet and South Africa is speaking to me. I'm straining to hear it
knowing it holds a purposeful message--in history, in culture, in
truth. And I wait and I wait for it to form more clearly in my ears. And
no it doesn't sound like that damn Toto song.
Inequality
Tuesday, May 16th 22:01
I saw two South Africas today. I woke up
in Johannesburg (Jo-burg for short.) It is the financial capitol of the
country where a fast paced job-oriented life is the key to a life well
lived. In Jo-burg, a good job is the most important characteristic to a
person's success. Material and capital accumulate in this financial hub,
bolstering up a strong white ruling class from the apartheid-era and
caring to continue a similar black ruling class post-apartheid. It is a
modern metropolis with a downtown littered with skyscrapers and suburbs
covered with industry. Political news is featured heavily in protest
art--one particular blatant display of displeasure in a faltering South
African President through the words "F*$! Off Zuma" was etched in bold
lettering on the large barrier containing the freeway. The view from the
plane showcased a sprawling cityscape of diverse neighborhoods and
markets and golf courses.
However, just a short flight to
Nelspruit, on our way to Kruger National Park, demonstrated another
reality. Somewhere between Jo-burg and Kruger I entered a new country
(figuratively, not literally.) A new country with a different value
system on living a meaningful life. This observation is due in course to
my own observation, but I'm convinced if you saw what I saw on that
short drive from Nelspruit to Kruger you would have to agree. I
experienced everything my mind didn't wish to see in my time here, every
stereotype I wished away as untrue in order to see Africa as new. Women
carrying jars on their heads, carrying small children in a pouch on
their back, working the field, wearing the vibrant colors of the
rainbow. Cinder block houses built quickly. Roadside markets that sold
specialty products or produce for cheap. An abundance of night clubs,
hair salons, and churches. Foot traffic was the major (and only?) way
for some to get around these small towns. The only connection between
all these was an abject sense of poverty--the opposite of Jo-burg. Of
course, there must be poverty in Jo-burg. But, nothing compared to this
rural scene I found myself in. I tried my best to forcefully remove
those stereotypes as I thought of them.
And throughout this tumultuous mind game I
played against these stereotypes, it all spoke to me. Women dressed in
bright, vibrant colors with children on their backs spoke to life.
Half-built cinder block rooms spoke to development. Roadside markets
spoke to creation and innovation. Buildings plainly labeled "Night Club"
or "Hair Salon" spoke to normalcy. And the poverty spoke to the
universality of suffering. I saw a diverse, large, wide country today
and the only adequate words to describe it all was modern
inequality--where the gap between poor and rich is like the leap I made
across the Atlantic Ocean. From my arrival until now, South Africa has
constantly challenged my ideas, adding a complexity to the African
narrative that I did not expect.
Until next time,
Jacob F. Maestri
--
Follow Jacob on his study abroad at http://ablogaboutsouthafrica.blogspot.com
For more information on the U of A Faculty-Led: South Africa, Past and Present program at http://studyabroad.uark.edu/safrica
Follow Jacob on his study abroad at http://ablogaboutsouthafrica.blogspot.com
For more information on the U of A Faculty-Led: South Africa, Past and Present program at http://studyabroad.uark.edu/safrica
