the journ-E: India, Argentina, South Africa: Molweni from ZW

ZWELETHEMBA. How do I explain this place? How can I explain how my life, the way I see things, the way I feel, everything has changed? I am fulfilled and I have never ever felt like this before. It’s frustrating that I can never completely explain to you all the things I have seen and felt and the people I have talked to, but I will try.

When I first arrived in Zwelethemba after spending a few days in Simon’s Town with penguins in the Eastern Cape, I was confused about EVERYTHING. We had just spent 3 days getting hard statistics thrown at us about the danger that is in Capetown and South Africa. Rape is everywhere. HIV is everywhere. Apartheid is not over, it’s everywhere. The whole existence of Zwelethemba is based on the apartheid and nothing has changed. I met my host mom, Olga Macingwane, and she told me her incredible story as a bomb victim and her experience with The Truth and Reconciliation Committee. An unbelievable, reserved, hard to read woman, with so much suffering in her life. She takes care of her 1 year old grandson, 16-year-old grandson, 18-year-old granddaughter, and alcoholic boyfriend. Why does she do it? How does she do it?

“I struggled everyday, and I still struggle.” - Olga

The first thing that anyone can notice in Zwelethemba is the unreal amount of elderly and children, and an entire mass population of middle-aged people missing. Grandmothers taking care of their grandchildren because their mothers and fathers have died from HIV, or have alcoholism, or simply cannot support a child. Children are born with HIV and babies have TB. It’s just so hard to wrap my head around these things. Children walking barefoot on streets covered completely in broken glass, homes (including mine) that don’t have ceiling, just a tin roof.

The moment that I realized everything had changed for me was when I was sitting in Olga’s church, a shack made of metal and cardboard, with the most beautiful people I have ever seen. Everything came ALIVE. Olga wrapped our heads with scarves and we were smiling like little kids. We got to her church and the pastor greeted us and we sat inside where everyone was already singing and moving and vibing. Some of the women smiled at us and I felt safe, for the first time in a long time. Plastic chairs and a makeshift altar. The priest came over with his notebook and wrote down our names and hometowns and managed to get an interpreter for the service just for my two roommates and me. I have never felt so spiritually moved or connected with people before. The things he was saying were UNREAL. He said that God had blessed them with our presence and that we were angels of God. He told the people to pray for us everyday so that we can achieve our dreams. Everyone was praying with their entire soul.

I prayed for the first time in ages. I prayed for them. I thanked whatever force brought me to that place and that moment. The priest called us three up to the altar and personally blessed us while the congregation sang with their hearts and souls. It was magical. WHY ME? These people have spent the majority of their lives hating white people and yet they were able to open their hearts to me and give me so much love and kindness. Unbelievable.

10 days, bucket baths, strange meals, cold nights, and so much endless love.

I’ve come to realize through my experience in Zwelethemba, that sometimes even though situations may seem so daunting and confusing and the world might seem like such a horrible terrible place, there is good, and sometimes its as simple as a cup of tea, or a smile, or holding a hand. So thankful.

Open eyes. Open mind. Open heart. Open soul.