Xandla Famba, Xandla Vuya

How is it that everything said in a foreign language sounds so much nicer than it does in English?  If you’ve ever seen the show “Modern Family,” I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.  Gloria’s Spanish always makes any phrase in English sound so beautiful!  Well, at least for the most part.  “Xandla Famba, Xandla Vuya” (the “x” is pronounced as a “shhhh”) loosely translated means “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”  Much prettier, wouldn’t you agree?  My good friend, Sylvia, had taught me this phrase about a month ago.  I asked her for Xitsonga lessons, telling her upfront I would pay her (Peace Corps reimburses us for tutors).  She told me, “No, no Meghan.  Xandla famba, xandla vuya.”  When I inquired as to  what she meant by this, she reminded me that I often help her with English and with computer questions that she has.  “We help each other.  We are friends,” she told me.  (I was grateful to play off the tears falling from my eyes as sweat when she told me this.)

            I am extremely blessed to have become good friends with Sindri, a CHOP (Community and Health) Volunteer who lives fairly close to me.  Not only did Sindri help me as a newbie when getting to country (she arrived in the group before mine), but Sindri and I have done a few projects/workshops together in my time here thus far.  Last year Sindri came and taught my grade 6 & 7 learners about HIV/AIDS right before World AIDS Day (December the 1^st every year).  About a month ago, I went to Sindri’s home-base care org to give the caretakers she works with a workshop on SOUNS (the literacy program).  Just this week, on Tuesday evening, Sindri and one of the caretakers she works with, Winnie, came to my village to give a 2-day Nutrition workshop.

            Now, why would I want to hold a Nutrition workshop if I am a Community and Education Volunteer?  I have multiple reasons for holding a Nutrition workshop in my village.  The first is clearly for the wellbeing of those in my village, in particular the children in my village.  I have seen mothers give cold drink (soda) to their young children.  Every day when I walk to school I see learners eating ma-zimba (basically Cheeto’s) for breakfast.  Many people believe that pap is sufficient enough of a diet, eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  There are some children in my village with the pot belly, a sign of malnutrition.  I can’t seem to quote Sir Francis Bacon enough, agreeing to the utmost that “Knowledge is power.”  In order to solve any problem we first need to know the correct information.  When you have mangos falling off of your trees, take advantage of that.  The second reason I chose to hold the Nutrition workshop is because of the time of the year.  Term 4, particularly the end of Term 4, is rather chaotic, to say the least.  Luckily I have plenty of projects at the schools to keep me busy, but with testing things are thrown out of whack.  Teachers are busy marking, learners are running wild, and I’m busy sweating due to the +100 degree weather.  Hot.  Mess.  I didn’t feel bad missing two days of school to hold this workshop when not a whole lot is going on.  Lastly, I held this workshop because I love working with other volunteers.  We all come with our own skill sets when we come into the Peace Corps.  Why not help one another out, complimenting each other while helping our communities?  Xandla famba, xandla vuya.

            In order to prepare for the workshop, I spoke with Violet, a woman who has been helping me with Scouts and who works at the home base care in the neighboring village; Sylvia, the administrative assistant and my good friend in the village; and Maggie, my host mother and quite the social butterfly in order to dot all of my i’s and cross all of my t’s.  When we discussed holding the workshop, their first concern was food.  Would the workshop be catered?  I hadn’t thought of this.  Wasn’t it enough that we were feeding them with knowledge?  This, for me, is the best food out there.  Not in South Africa.  If you want attendance, you need to provide food.  I caved, settling on providing bread and juice.  There was no way I was going to cook up pap and chicken in the South African summer heat.  How difficult could bread and juice be?  Next was securing the location.  In my village, we have a small brick building that is pretty central to everything else. It’s close to the school, to the tuck shop, and to my home. I attend Church here and there are often meetings held here.  I talked to one of the men in the village who wields a lot of power, who gave me the green light for using the building to hold the workshop.  The final step was advertising.  I printed out fliers with all of the information.  When I showed it to my HOD, she fixed a few things, pointing out that it was fine to put the start time, but not the end time as no one would be up for a workshop that lasted from 8am-3pm.  I printed new fliers, leaving out the end time.  Violet and Sylvia helped me to spread the word, and pasted the fliers (the adverts as they call them) around the village and in the tuck shops.  I stumbled over my Xitsonga and my Sepedi, trying to communicate the message to women and neighbors I’m friends with.  I’m sure it was something like “Workshop.  Teach.  Food.  Bread.  Juice.  Please come!”  Clearly I’m not fluent yet.

            The big day finally arrived – Day 1 of the workshop.  Sindri and Winnie had done all of their preparations and had all of their posters ready to go.  We had stayed up way past our normal bedtimes getting ready the night before, finally hitting the sack at a little after 10.  Have I mentioned I’ve become even more of a Grandmom here than I was in the states?  Trying to adhere to American time, we arrived at the AFM Church (the site of the workshop) at 7:45, 15 minutes before the workshop was scheduled to start at 8:00.  Quite accustomed to “African time,” we all assumed people wouldn’t arrive until closer to 9.  8:30 rolled around, and I went on a stroll in the village.  I felt like the annoying taxi rank men who try to lure people to their taxis.  Unfortunately I didn’t have the megaphone.  “Come to the workshop!” I told anyone and everyone I saw.  “I’m coming just now,” each person would respond.  (“Just now” is different from “now now” in that you don’t know when they will be there.  People here do not like saying “no,” as they don’t want to hurt your feelings.)  I even sticky-tacked a sign to the outside of the tuck shop.  I sauntered back to the church, a little bit down and gloomy that no one was coming.  As I was walking back, I ran into a woman I am fairly close with.  “The Chief called a meeting for this morning in the middle of the night,” she informed me.  Of course!  I go through weeks of planning, and all I had to do was pull a Paul Revere.  I suppose the Chief does pull rank on little old me.  When I finally got back to the Church it was about 9:30.  Two people had showed.  I was feeling more hopeful at the site of some people and starting to understand the frustrations of a CHOP Volunteer (being an Education Volunteer, the learners and the teachers sort of have to show up to school so I never experienced the low attendance thing).  This hopeful feeling diminished when my two attendees left at 9:45.  This was not a good sign.

            At about 10:00 I started daydreaming about “Glee.”  At least I had tried.  I could use the day to catch up on chores, watch some “Glee” episodes, and maybe bake some banana bread.  I refused to ask more people to come when I had already advertised plenty.  Then, at about 10:15, 2 Gogo’s came in.  They sat down, thanks to Sindri’s encouragement, and started chatting with Winnie about simple nutrition.  By 10:45 we had FIVE women.  This was good.  We began our workshop.  More people started coming in around 11 (please notice, now THREE hours after the original start time): 9 people, 12 people, 13 people, 16 people, 18 people.  My sweater started making me a bit uncomfortable.  I was ready to jump in front of the door to stop people from coming in.  How much bread would I need to buy!?  My host brother, Tumelo, can eat an entire loaf by himself in just one sitting.  The numbers continued to increase…28, 34 people!  Thank goodness it was an overcast and cool day or we would’ve been miserable with heat and even worse, body odor.  Note to self – spray deodorant does not cut it. 

            The workshop on Day 1 was going swimmingly!  Winnie had wanted to teach the majority of the workshop, which was great since the English level for the adults in my village is fairly low.  The focus was on food groups:  What are carbohydrates?  What do carbohydrates do for you?  Which carbohydrates should you eat more of?  Which carbohydrates should you eat some of?  Which carbohydrates should you eat less of?  What are proteins?  What do proteins do for you?  Where can you get proteins?  What are fats?  What do fats do for you?  There was also a discussion of malnutrition, examples/pictures of children with malnutrition and how you can tell if a child is malnourished.

            At around 11:45 I walked over to the tuck shop.  There were 34 people in attendance at the workshop.  Figuring that half of a loaf was plenty for one person, I bought 17 loaves of bread.  I also bought juice mix.  Side note – This tuck shop must think I’m crazy!!  I constantly go there to buy 45+ lollipops when my classes have gotten all of their stickers for their sticker charts.  Now I was spending R100+ on bread and juice??  Maybe they’re just grateful for the business.  Or for the laugh that I provide.  The tuck shop worker was kind enough to drive me back to the church since I haven’t mastered carrying things on my head and well, 17 loaves of bread is a lot of bread.  Juice and bread was enjoyed by all.  In order to make sure not everyone left, Sindri and Winnie resumed the workshop after “tea time,” and held down the fort.  I ran home to make us sandwiches.

            Following the break, a whopping 27 people remained which was more than expected (I had assumed everyone would cut and run after food and drinks were given).  I am happy to say I was mistaken.  The second half of the day focused on reviewing what we had already learned, protective foods (fruits and vegetables), and vitamins.  A few women arrived around this time, expecting bread and juice.  This (aside from the late start) was the only frustrating part of the day for me.  There are often instances where people expect handouts, and this is not something that I am okay with nor will I do.  Just because I am white does not mean I have money trees in my backyard.  Wouldn’t that be swell?  Nevertheless, I was very pleased with how Day 1 went.  When we got back to my rondovel, Winnie, Sindri and I looked at the sign-in book.  Throughout the day 46 people had come!  Obviously not all of them stayed, but I was very impressed by the turnout.  For a non-compulsory workshop, this was great!

            Day 2 started a bit later.  Everyone in attendance on Day 1 had voted to start at 9 rather than at 8.  This makes sense since chores (fetching water, washing clothes, sweeping, taking the cows to the bush, etc.) tend to take place in the early morning hours.  I didn’t mind.  We slept in until 6:30 (I can’t believe I consider this sleeping in), had a leisurely breakfast, and headed over to the church.  I was even able to run to the school quickly and respond to a few journal entries from my grade 7 learners.  Attendance was, to say the least, a bit lower than Day 1.  5 community members showed up for Day 2.  Maybe the others didn’t prefer the flavor drink I had bought?  Maybe it was the heat of Day 2?  Either way, the 5 who attended were very enthusiastic and eager to learn which made me happy.  We started the day with a review.  I was thrilled to see how much information they had retained.  Next we moved to making our own food group posters.  Now the attendees could have something to take home with them, a souvenir from their Nutrition Workshop.  As Winnie and Sindri moved onto junk food, listing alternatives to cold drink and ma-zimba, I ran to the tuck shop and bought 2 loaves of bread, a bit more manageable to carry than 17 (and a bit easier on the wallet!). 

            Our “tea time” was very nice, and friendlier than the day before because of the change in numbers.  We were able to chat a bit and enjoy one another’s company.  Following the break, Sindri informed us of how much fruits and vegetables children should eat in a day, using her fists to show measurements.  Even I was learning!  Each of the women made a day’s menu for her child, according to age, and then shared it with the group.  I was really impressed with how well they had done.  I am hopeful they will adhere to what they wrote out.

            I truly believe that knowledge is always a step in the right direction, no matter how small.  I’d consider this workshop a success even if it did start late on both days and even if numbers fluctuated.  It allowed me to work with members of the community which I really enjoyed.  This isn’t something I’m able to do too often.  It also revealed to me just how much these women care about their children and the health of their families.  Towards the end of day 2, when Sindri was talking to the women, she mentioned how a child should have 2 tablespoons of protein a day (i.e. peanut butter).  One of the women was genuinely concerned.  Did she have to spoon feed the peanut butter or could she spread it on bread or mix it with porridge?  Sindri assured her that either way was fine, so long as the child was getting the necessary amount of peanut butter.  The people in my village want to do right by themselves and by their family.  They just need a little bit of help getting there.

            Maybe it’s naïve of me, but I believe that kindness makes this world go round.  If you do something nice, don’t necessarily ask that it be returned.  Just have faith that somehow it will come back to you, eventually.  What we put out there usually has much great returns which are often multiplied.  I was more than happy to help Sindri with the SOUNS workshop, and I’m raring to go to help again next year.  However, what she and Winnie did for the people in my village, bringing so much knowledge to grow strong and healthy children which will impact how they do in school and in their futures is far more than I could have ever asked for. Remember, xandla famba, xandla vuya.  You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.

Le Rata,

Meg :)