Mamie meet Buddha

So....I managed to get this giraffe from Africa through 3 airports, about 6 security checks and into the overhead compartment. A lot of smiles and eyelashes helped get her home. And then I walked off the plan without her. Luckily I realized that my shoulders felt awfully light and realized I left her on the plane. Back on board there she was, waiting in the seat for me.

Mamie is special addition to my travel collection. She is named after one of the many amazing woman I traveled with to South Africa who wisely convinced me to not just get the giraffe, but to go and go big. I think she suggested that I may only get to Africa once in my life and I certainly do not want to have only a table top giraffe. I took a risk and it paid off. Mamie is seen here posing next to Buddha. They can be see in my APT gazing across the room at each other.

An Excited Crowd, High School, Soweto

One of the funniest and most memorable performance, the kids went crazy over our singing. Think Beatlemania - no exaggeration! They were pulling at us, wanted our clothes, glasses, purses anything we would part with - I gave them my shirt. Some of our guys were totally cornered by the girls who were screaming and crying to try to get close to us. Completely surreal and not what we expected from the work we were doing. They followed us on to our bus and begged us to take them with us.

My Host Family, Chiawelo, Soweto

We drove to Baragwanath, Soweto to meet with our host families. My host family was a solid matriarchal family, led by a lovely Grandmother who ran the household of 10 people. 8 Woman and 2 boys under 10.

Rebecca and I walked with two teenage girls 1 mile to their home as they didn’t have a car. The whole walk to their home the girls were insisting on carrying our bags and taking our hands as we crossed streets. In retrospect it is kind of funny, never in my life have I been greeted by so many people I didn’t know with a hug, a kiss and an “I love you”. This was so common that I thought that everyone was friendly by nature but that was not the case. Fortuniate, our 16-year old hostess had her hands full defending our “honor” as she yelled at the men in Sooto. She was both nervous and excited by having 2 tall american women staying with her. She said that she would be a celebrity on Monday because according to her everyone was watching and they don’t get white visitors often. :-)

We got to the family’s home and found out that neighbors and extended family were waiting to meet us--everyone wanted to meet the “Americans”. We ran some errands with the girls via cab. It’s a make-shift system as there is no public transportation. Taxi’s are white mini-vans that run loops on certain streets. When they point a finger in the air vertically, they are going to “town” when they point a finger horizontally they are going to the “hospital”. That should give you an idea of the current state of affairs. For 5 Rand, or about $0.70 you can ride anywhere on that loop. People often jump in a taxi take it to a certain point on their journey and then walk for a mile to get to the next taxi. We took a cab with the girls who had to run some errands and eventually we had a home cooked meal together. The family gave Rebecca and I the master bedroom which made us both a bit uneasy. They obviously purchased new linens and supplied us with toiletries. I was tempted to leave money as I know this visit had a financial implication on the family, but I understood how much it meant to the family to “do” for us and to “go out of their way for us”.

I think the most notable things about the visit was the lack of men and the profound mixture of both joy and sadness these people have in their lives. As we looked through family photo albums we heard “that’s my auntie...she died”...that’s my dad...no he’s dead”. Many of the fathers of these children are MIA or they are causing more drama than good but the family allows them to stay in hopes of some financial support. It also made sense why so many of the women were doting on the men who I came with as it according to them it is rare to find a solid man in their community. Even so, they say they have received many blessings and are very joyous.

Truth and Reconsilliation Committee (TRC)

I had the pleasure of dining with one of the men, Prof. Piet Meiring who will be on sabbatical at Princeton University this Fall 2007.

The TRC was a committee set up post-apartheid to literally “hear the truth” and attempt “reconciliation” among the sides. The TRC was lead by Bishop Desmond Tutu. Two members of the committee Prof. Piet Meiring (white african) and Prof. Maake Masango (black africa) were on the committee. They spoke about their distain for each other in the beginning and how in time they grew to love and support each other through this trying and emotional process. The process lasted about two years and they saw approximately 200,000 victims of apartheid. According to the men, many families expressed their thankfulness to the committee for the opportunity to speak to the truth of what was done to them to TRC while others who did not get a chance to speak didn’t see the value in this process. Understandable. The men retold many stories of truth and forgiveness, where victims and offenders came together in reconciliation. I think the most impactful fact that was made crystal clear to me was how many global business’, instilled systemic discrimination within the workplace, from wages to benefits. I must admit it makes me hesitant about continuing to use products from those companies knowing about there dark past.

Our South African tour guide was the brother-in-law of Prof. Piet Meiring. He shared his own personal experience with apartheid and as a retried minister himself he also felt he had some amends to make. He had tears in his eye when he explained to me that the church used religion to support and justify apartheid in South Africa. He explain how the theory of “due unto others as you would have done to you” was used to keep segregation. Would YOU want to be with a black african? Then they probably don’t want to be with you so it is best to keep separate. He also teared up when he retold of the day he personally took his black african domestic staff to vote. He said it took days of convicting as there was a lot of fear that the black africans would be reprimanded somehow for voting. He explain how he and his wife “book-ended” the staff and walked them to the voting booth. A memory neither of us will forget.

Reflecting on our performances...

I recall Andres, the white-African music director of the Stollenbosch University event talking about how ten years ago this would not have been possible. Ten years ago they would have been arrested for talking to each other, for performing with each other. It was impossible to believe that people would be arrested for associating with people of a different race. I was not raised to see color, size or sexual orientation and while I have clearly seen racism throughout my life, it was hard to fathom systematic racism. In the choir, bringing together people of different backgrounds was the diversity we strived to achieve. We were a motley crew of all ages, sizes, colors and convictions. It was a badge of diversity that we all proudly wore. Andres said that he could actually see our bright, white light coming in the room when we entered and that he hopes through us he can teach others how to emulate it, that our spirit, our passion was tangible. As if our convictions were right there on stage with us, as fellow choir members, dressed and ready to sing.

I was surprised at first see some of the posters around the city that promoted our performance. Having experienced only a nominal level of notoriety back in the States, I thought about how I would never be able to describe to my family and friends the Beatlemania-like affect I felt we were experiencing. Whether the stage is Lincoln Center or in the basement of a local synagogue the sentiment is the same.

After hundreds of performances singing the music I love, I have become much better at knowing when to pull my voice back so that my vocals don’t crack in the intense, emotional atmosphere. It’s usually during or after key change when the song reaches its pinnacle, the payoff comes and I often get really emotional. It’s pull back or crack, baby. Like a dream that carries you away, almost an outer body experience, you can influence the crowd with your enthusiasm but the crowd mostly influences you. The audience is so important to a performance. Their vibe, their chemistry is absorbed on stage. The need for the audience to respond is so great. When they don’t its like reading your journal to a wall and expecting compassion and empathy in return. This was definitely not like shows they do back home. Sure, people buy our CD’s, attend our shows at New York’s major venues. But, here something transcendent happens. You become one with the audience. Everyone in the venue is contributing to the performance. They are responding to you, and you are in returned charged by them. Suddenly you are the catalyst for magical experiences. Everyone is on there feet, singing along, clapping and stomping to the beat. You can measure your success in the tears of others.

Tapologo Aids Hospice

Another early morning start in order to reach the aids hospice by lunch. We met with the staff and toured the hospice. It’s incredible what they have done, from the use of the adobe style building to save on energy, to innovative ways to cool down the air (make-shift A/C) to finally using light to constantly sanitize the hospice. Bishop Kevin Dowling is a lovely, humble man whom I met in NYC last Fall. He is both the innovator behind the hospice and the overseer of the hospice. He named it Tapologo after consulting a few local tribes who gave him the word which means ‘rest from suffering’.

After meeting with and speaking with some of the patients we sang a few songs and this day was really hard for me. There are very few men in hospice and on aids meds, as the younger men are in denial, not treating themselves and therefore continuing to spread the disease. Younger professional woman are choosing to have children but are refusing to married after they have their first child because infidelity is so rampant. So many people suffering. Maybe they liked the sound of your voice, maybe you jarred a memory, but either way, to receive tears as a thank you for something so small I found completely overwhelming.

Pilanesberg Game Reserve

Woke up really early to catch a flight to Jo’burg. We then had a estimated 3 hour drive to the Game Reserve. Yesterday morning a park ranger was malled at Kruger National Park--reminiscent of the grizzly mallings when I was in Glacier National Park. Weird.

The animals were out and about as the temperature had dropped after a late morning rain. Prides of lions, zebras, wildebeest, giraffes, elephants, gazelles, rhinos and hippos were all gracefully inter-mingling...for now as it apparently wasn’t dinner time. Really, really beautiful. Surreal too.

We stayed at the Bakgatla Camp in cabins and ended the day with a group meditation service under the beautiful southern sky. The milky way lit the sky enough that flashlights were not necessary. After some star-grazing a few of us stayed up to the wee hours of the morning enjoying the unique environment within the park and secretly hoping we’d see a late night/early morning visitor!

Cape Peninsula and the African Penguins

We had the morning off and we went to the Cape Peninsula. It’s the southern most tip of the African continent and its where the two oceans meet. Amazing to see the light-colored, yet choppy Atlantic Ocean meet the dark, yet calm Indian Ocean. Quite beautiful. We had lunch at Hout Bay and afterwards we went to Boulder to see the African (or Jackass) Penguins. The below video was created by my friend and fellow choir member, Marshall Simon.

Harry Gwala School, Khayalitsha

The day started early with a drive through the tin shanties of the Capetown Townships. These shanties make our level of poverty in the USA look like palaces. It was very emotional and distributing to see people live this way.

We got to the Harry Gwala school around 9:30a. The students energy was very high as it was the first day back from Easter Break. They soon came to our warm-up room and wanted to have their picture taken. They posed endlessly, voguing constantly and we all gladly snapped away. The students sang unity and apartheid healing songs along with movements of struggle and resistance with profound discipline. I closed my eyes and listened to their mature sound that resonated with dignity. They are old souls who have seen a lot in their few years on this earth.

We took the stage shortly after and in my years of singing, never have I experienced such a frenzy. Without a microphone we sang our favorites and over 1,500 students were on their feet, wildly waving and dancing to our music. The female students went crazy for our male singers.

For our last song the students suprised us with singing our national anthem. 1,500 small voices singing, boldly, proudly for their American Guests. We were able to return the gift by singing NoKosi Sikelel, the People's Song, a beautiful, soothing song of healing which we all sang together in Africaans. The emotion griped my throat making it difficult to hit my notes. In the end, it took us almost an hour to leave as we wanted to get to know the students and spend some time with them.