I have no words to express how proud I am of my friend Dianne Russell. She found her man, moved to South Africa and created one of the most successful expat blogs that I know. Yeah, butt… hit the 11,000 visitors mark in only 6 weeks! I must confess that I was I little bit jeaulous when she told me that she was going to watch watch Brazil vs. North Korea at Casa Little Brazil yesterday. Luckily, Dianne has a big heart and decided to share her experience at the best pavillion in South Africa with us. Thanks, Dianne!

A Night in Brazil

The Set Up

I’d been excitedly looking forward to Brazil’s opening night and I was NOT disappointed!  Not only was the game fantastic, but the vibe at Casa Little Brazil, which has taken over the Sea Point Civic Centre in Cape Town for the next month, was incredible.

We paid R60 (about C$8.00) cover charge each, and as soon as we walked through the door, we knew it would not be a waste.  Just inside the entrance lay a man-made beach made from authentic Cape Town sand!  Beyond the beach was the auditorium, where we found bars, food, a live samba band, a DJ booth and of course, a huge TV screen.

More incredible than the ‘things’ we found were the PEOPLE.  The place was pumping with crazed Brazilian fans decked out in all variations and combinations of their yellow and green fan gear, and instead of walking from place to place, everyone danced – just as I imagined Brazilians would do!  Before the game started, we were treated to three bedazzled and befeathered female dancers (one Brazilian and two South African) shimmying and gyrating around a lone, topless gyrating Brazilian male.   Did I say topless? and gyrating? sigh…

The Game

Up to the balcony we climbed, claiming a perfect row of seats with a terrific view of the screen.   Vuvuzelas were paaaaarping – yes, BRAZILIANS were happily blowing vuvuzelas to the samba rhythms, shaking their booties as if the vuvuzelas had always been part of their football tradition!

As we were in a Portugese-speaking crowd, the broadcast was also in Portugese, which was a bit challenging for us English speakers.  This did, however, make for a very unique experience.

Because I lived in Korea in the late 90s, I can recognize the sounds of Korean words.  When the Brazilian broadcaster was speaking, I could make out the names of the North Korean players, even when mixed in with the Portugese.  This is what the game sounded like to me:

“blah blah blah blah vuvuzela blah blah Ji Yun Nam blah blah blah Kaka blah blah blah vuvuzela blah blah blah Kaka blah blah Kaka blah Kim Yong Jun blah blah Hong Yong Jo blah vuvuzela blah blah Kaka blah…etc.”

BTW, Kak means ‘poop’ in South Africa…sorry all you Kaka fans, but it’s true!

Anyhow, as everyone knows, North Korea played incredibly and put Brazil to the test.  North Korea worked so bloody hard that when they finally scored a goal, all the Brazilians stood up and cheered for them!!!  How classy is that?!?!  It gave me yet another reason to want to go back for the next game (as if the food, booze, samba and hot ‘topless and gyrating’ Brazilian guy weren’t reason enough!).

After the game, the dancing broke out once again, and the sounds of samba continued well into the Cape Town night.  Viva Brazil!

Written by Dianne Russell

‘What are you planning  to do in South Africa?’

‘I’m going to volunteer as an ESL teacher in a centre that helps African refugees.’

‘For no pay?’

‘Yes.’

[Silence]

‘Why would you work for no pay?!’

This is one of the first conversations I had in South Africa.  It took me by surprise and made me realize that I certainly wasn’t in Canada anymore.  I had never heard of anyone challenging the idea of working as a volunteer, and it made me very curious.

Since then, I have been asked the same question a few times, always in the same, bewildered tone.  I’m exploring my personal theories about what leads to this question in South Africa, and I do know what to say now as I’ve rehearsed and perfected my answer.

1- Volunteering is Stimulating

Since I do not yet have a work visa, I am unable to get pay for my work here in South Africa.  I know… it is a terrific reason to sit on my butt and eat bon bons all day, however, that  kind of life is simply not for me.  Yes, I love my partner like crazy, but I need to interact with more than one person.  I need stimulation (we ADHDers can’t live without it lest we die of boredom), which for me involves interacting with a wide variety of people.  People’s energy is infectious, and I thrive in bustling environments where energy flows freely. Volunteering in a large organization provides me the constant energy bursts that keep me afloat.

The Scalabrini Centre of Cape Town (where I now volunteer) is a busy place staffed mainly with volunteers from across Europe and the US.  It is alive with people seeking help with language instruction, career-planning, medical treatment, counselling and job training. It is an intersection of people who love to give and people who desperately need to receive.  The energy is palpable, and it is here where I feel most alive. The day I taught my first class here was so memorable – I bounded out of the school Tiggeresque-style, and my partner asked me if I had been injected with some kind of stimulant.   I certainly had.

2 – Volunteering is Educational

Conversations with people from other countries, linguistic and ethnic groups, socio-economic, religious and cultural backgrounds, allow me to intimately explore sides of life and culture that one normally would not see.  It expands my mind, giving me alternate perspectives, and challenges my sometimes rigid take on the world.

Volunteering in Cape Town is teaching me about the peoples of Africa; I am exposed to their food, clothing, music, and customs.  I learn new languages, political ideologies, social theories and ways of perceiving current affairs. Yes, one can read about other cultures in books or by watching Discovery TV, but volunteering has given me the best up-close and personal education about Africa that money simply cannot buy.

3 – Volunteering is Inspiring

My jobs (teacher, immigration & customs officer/auto claims adjuster) have all required me to interact with a large number of people on a daily basis.  I have met celebrities (Jack Nicholson was my favourite), criminals, immigrants, psychopaths, and everything in between. However, the people who have touched my heart the most are the people I meet through volunteering.

My students amaze me every day with their motivation, drive, passion, energy, positivity and   faith.  Here in South Africa, my classroom is full of refugees from other African countries.      Although they bring with them skills, talent and experience, they are not being welcomed to this country – xenophobic attacks on migrants is a serious issue here –, and my students deal with threats on a daily basis.  However, that does not prevent them from coming to school.

My students also face challenges in supporting themselves and their families.  Many of them     work through the night as car-park guards (a thriving informal industry created by immigrants) yet arrive at school with smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts.  Whenever I feel that life is difficult, whenever I have moment of feeling hard done by, I look at their shining faces and know that I am blessed beyond their wildest imaginations.

Volunteering gives me so much more that I can possibly give myself.  I feel privileged to be in the classroom, making friends with people unafraid of life and the challenges it brings.  They have experienced every hardship, every pain, every frustration and every disappointment.  Yet they remain.  Their spirits remain intact.  They don’t complain, whine, moan or groan.  They make astute observations about the problems in this country, and frankly, I think they bring much needed wisdom and insight. South Africans can learn a lot from these people, and the deep relationships and cultural bridges being developed between the refugees and expats who help them could potentially shift the direction of this country.

For information about volunteering at Scalabrini, please contact Daniela (a passionate returning South African who does amazing work in this community!):  Daniela [at] scalabrini.org.za

I recently invited my friend Dianne Russell to write a series of blog posts about her South African experiences in Cape Town. Dianne has been taking her role as a blogger seriously and her adventures at Yeah, but… are one of the best reads available online. She has also stepped up on her photography and has a very interesting page at JPEGmag.com. I am really happy that Dianne said yes to MadameHeringer.com and will write a series of posts direct from Cape Town for us. Enjoy!

I’m a Canadian English teacher with over 10 years experience, currently living and volunteering in Cape Town, South Africa.  I teach English to African refugees from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Burundi, Somalia, Sudan, etc.  I also have an African heart.

Yesterday my class was given a survey that asked them to report any known threats of xenophobic violence against refugees in South Africa after World Cup 2010 ends.   After completing the survey, a female student looked at me carefully and said, “You like to work with refugees, don’t you?”  “Yes”, I replied.  She then said, “I know you. You came to Africa because of your heart.”

I couldn’t have said it any more clearly than that myself.

For years I had been dreaming and scheming of a way to come to Africa.  Perhaps this yearning was prompted by the endless National Geographic specials that I watched on TV as a kid or maybe the infomercials for Foster Parents Plan that made me cry every Saturday afternoon.  Whatever it was, my heart has been facing Africa for a long time.

Even a fortune teller knew about my heart’s African dream.  Not long ago, she predicted that I would live in Africa with “a house like the United Nations” – meaning I would adopt a number of foreign children and live happily ever after.  Just like Angelina Jolie, I suppose.

Two years ago I tutored a Kenyan student in Vancouver whose father runs an aid distribution company in Kenya.  The family travels back and forth, and as my relationship grew with the family, we started planning a month-long Kenyan dream trip for me in December 2008. I was to stay with family and friends across the county and in Tanzania and have opportunities to volunteer in the refugee camps, but alas, the political situation grew tense due to elections.  Sadly, the trip fell through – my heart wept.

Long Way Back Home

Then I met Adam, the man later to be known as the ‘life partner’ on my South African Life Partner Temporary Residence Permit.

When I found out that Adam is a South African citizen with dual Canadian citizenship, my stomach flipped.  So did my heart.  But determined not to throw myself unwittingly into anymore unsuccessful relationships, I played it cool and revealed nothing of my African heart.

A couple of months had passed when Adam looked at me and asked, “Do you want to go to South Africa with me for a few months this winter?”  “Are you serious?!” I shot back almost defensively, ready to protect my heart from another disappointment.  “Yes, I’m serious”, he replied. My heart passed out.

I approached the planning of our trip with trepidation, knowing that the bottom could fall out at any time.  But it didn’t.  We researched apartments, car, flights, jobs, day trips, etc.  My heart was experiencing the double whammy of being in love AND knowing it was finally going to Africa.  The excitement grew.

Unfortunately, the road to South Africa was a bit bumpy.

One of the potential obstacles was my job. I am always wearing too many hats at work and as a result, I’m a bit hard to replace.  I am lucky that my organization granted four months unpaid leave to live this dream.

We also had to sell property and move at the same time. Our life was frantic.  As we couldn’t afford movers because of our trip, we moved ourselves in the middle of winter. “It’s ok”, we chanted as we balanced the couches on our heads and humped box after box down the stairs on Christmas Eve, “we’re going to be in Africa soon”.

We booked our flight for January 27, 2010.  In our panic to prepare the house for rental before leaving, we made it to the airport with five minutes to spare.  After almost collapsing at the ticket counter, my African heart was finally on her way home.

Photo credit: Dianne Russell on JPEGmag.com