A New Year and A New Look

It was time to change the appearance of this here little bloggie poo for the new year. It's hard to believe she'll be five years old in 2010!
What does one do on such a painfully cold and windy day while on vacation? Why clean, purge, and organize, of course! It was a joy to stay in my pajamas all day and clean out under the kitchen sink - a rather large and scary space that needed a lot of help. Glad that's done.
One of my Christmas presents was a couples cooking class at the Institute of Culinary Education. Pete and I selected the class we want to attend: The Great New York Steakhouse. The class isn't until February but I simply cannot wait! Here's what we'll be making: Classic Shrimp Cocktail, Clams Casino, Grilled New York Strip with Beurre Maitre d', Filet Mignon au Poivre with Cognac-Cream Sauce (my mouth is watering on THAT one), Grilled Center-Cut Pork Chops with Bourbon-Mustard Glaze, Caesar Salad, Leaf Spinach with Cream Sauce, Whipped Truffled Potatoes, and Almond Bread Pudding with Brandy Sauce.

We braved the cold - brrrrrrrrrrrrrr- to get a bite to eat.

Baby it's cold outside! I'm so glad my brother-in-law got me a Snuggie!!!!!!! I laugh hysterically every time I slip into this bad boy.

It's Christmas Time in the City

It feels so good to be on vacation - not a care in the world and lots of relaxation. I was so excited for Christmas this year - almost as excited as when I was a child ~ I couldn't sleep! (Rather, I did not fall asleep the instant my head hit the pillow - an impressive talent of mine.) Santa has been good to me this year - and I don't mean in a materialistic, acquisition-of-things manner. This holiday time has been a celebration of family, friends, and all things feeling good.

Thanks for the beautiful profile mom and dad!

It's incredible how something so small can make such a big difference. It's amazing how others know EXACTLY what you need.
It was after hours at work and I was busy on the computer. A coworker, whom I adore, passed by the door, stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me with her artist's eye, and then declared, "Beautiful profile!"
A genuine thank you poured from my lips along with, "Wow! I really needed that!"
Who knew?!
I just love it when someone makes me think differently about something.

Feast or Famine

Summertime is like a feast of taking great care of myself. Great food, gettin' shit DONE, plenty of dance classes, and yoga in between. Summertime is a feast of time with my husband - delicious and oh so yummy!
Back to work and back to school are like a famine: A lack of time, a shortage of quality self care, and a disaster of trying to juggle it all.
I love my husband.
I love my job.
I love learning.
But why can't all 3 live in harmony?

The Teachers We Trained

Before I share more about the teacher training program we facilitated in South Africa, I think I'll share with you a little bit about the teachers and the population they have to work with. The majority of them have 15 plus years experience teaching in the schools - some 30 plus years! Keep in mind that they are from and educated in an apartheid society. They then taught for years prior to the end of apartheid. We trained and worked with the literacy group. Most English teachers have about five classes with 50 - 60 students - approximately 300 papers and tests to correct and grade. I'm not sure they give feedback. I think they just grade and you get what you get. These 9th - 12th grade students do not speak English as their first language. Most students speak either Afrikaans or Xhosa at home and were educated in their home language up to grade seven. At that point the curriculum switches to English - cold turkey. The fact that I found most disconcerting was that these English teachers are teaching Shakespeare to grades 9 - 12. Isn't Shakespearean English yet another language?! Teachers complained of 10th grade students having a 3rd grade reading level but did not know whether or not these students were literate on grade level in their home/first language. Another bothersome fact is that no one could answer my questions, "What is a future vision for some of the students?" "What are the goals of the students?" "What do the students hope to achieve?" The only vision for the future I heard was in a first grade, Xhosa (black township), classroom. Our guide told the students, "Stay in school so you can have one of these (a cell phone)."

One of the most profound activities we had the teachers complete was an "I Am From" poem. Please peek into their lives, not as a voyeur, but as one who cares for other human beings and is thankful for our lives here in the United States.

For some reason, I can't seem to format the poems how they were written so I just put periods in where the writer went to the next line. I used their spellings and their language and put my translation in parenthesis.

I am from the era of 1985. Tear gas, batons, hippos (an enormous army tank). The order of the day. You deny me the right to teach. You deny me the right to express myself BUT you will never quell the passion within me to teach. Learning and teaching might seem so simple. yet I am concerned about living and dying. You robbed me of my innocence the day you shot my classmate You stole my zest to learn the day you said, “The doors of learning are closed.” I am from the era 1985. - Hemmie Govender


I am from a wonderful family. I am from a family full of love. I am from a family of unity. I am from a family who knows of poverty. I am from a family used to sharing. I am from a family who knows what loveliness is. I am from a community that is ravaged by death, crime, and pain. I am from a community that strives to survive. I am from the best! By Jean Mfunda

I am From. Known as the ghetto. Feared by many. Surrounded by shacks. I am from the township. We cannot think. We cannot write. We cannot build. We cannot create. I am from the disadvantaged. We drink. We use drugs. We rape. We murder. I am from Mitchell’s Plain. We can love. We can pray. We can hope. We can dream. I am from God. - Lynn Damons

I am from a place unknown. A place without a name. Where secrets lurk. promises broken. A place without a name. The alleys dark. Where pain unfolds. A place of broken dreams. Sunlight shattered. A place with only shame. I am from a place unknown. Dark clouds. Cold days. A place where lightning strikes. And thunder shatters dreams. I am from a place unknown.


I am from a town of dusty roads and potholes. I am from a place where poverty dwells. I am from no dreams and no aspirations. I am from a place where efforts are in vain. I am from pain and suffering and gnashing of teeth. I am from no sunny days but rain. I am from breaking through barriers of red tape. I am from making it against all odds. I am from free from condemnation and shame. I am where I am today. I am a king on the hilltops of fame. Living my dream away from all shame. I am Glenda Ann September rising again and again.

I am from Cape Town City. The number one place. I am from the sea, the mountains and the rivers. I am at peace here. I am from a family of love and sharing and caring. I am a teacher, a father, a husband. I am from curry, rooti and rice. I am from English, Afrikaans and Arabic. I am Abdul Aleem Sparks.

I am from the womb of woman. I am the product of many women. Therefore I am flexible like the cat who always lands on her feet. I am the product of my society. I have suffered and conquered the slings and arrows of many both close and distant. I am from a family who are many and varied. Emotional and cold, passionate and detached. All of this has made an impact on me. And all of this has made me who I am. - Cheryl Charmaine Stevens/Fisher/Bolters

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe "The Smoke That Thunders"

I had posted earlier that I would share a bit about what a mess the country of Zimbabwe is...Honestly, I don't know much about the country because all along I knew that I would only be spending one night there in preparation of seeing Vic Falls. "Just passing through" if you will. We had already spent 2 weeks in South Africa touring, completing our teacher training, and well, me, getting sick. (I rarely get sick! What happened to me??!!) I was really looking forward to a more "African" experience. South Africa is so unique and although it's part of the continent, it did not feel like what I had expected Africa to feel like. I know there are many cultures and many countries with varying histories on the continent but South Africa should be put up in the Mediterranean somewhere.
Back to Zimbabwe: We flew from Johannesburg, South Africa into Zimbabwe and then drove from Zimbabwe to the border of Botswana. Chobe National Park in Botswana is where we spent three days observing all of the African safari animals - amazing! On our drive from Zimbabwe into Botswana one could feel how depressing and desperate things are in Zimbabwe. At this moment the country has no currency. They are using US Dollars and South African Rand as their currency so the banks are closed and the ATM machines don't work. There is no petrol (gas) and all petrol stations are desolate. After our three days in Botswana we drove back into Zimbabwe and stayed over night to see Victoria Falls. There was no one, and I mean no one, at the hotel while we ate lunch. There were plenty of workers fighting to help us with our bags in hopes of US dollar tips - so desperate. As you know, I've traveled before and I'm used to being treated as a "walking dollar sign" in, for example, Ecuador, Honduras, and Mexico, but the desperation of Zimbabweans was different. The hotel we stayed in couldn't process credit cards because the systems were not formatted to US dollars. The Internet was not working for the hotel rooms or at the front desk. The night I stayed in Zimbabwe I ate crocodile and warthog, which was delicious, but I got sooooo sick that night - I've come to learn that I did not get sick from the food but from the antibiotics I took while in South Africa! (Public service message: I got very sick from taking antibiotics. Go easy on the antibiotics folks. Try not to eat animals treated with antibiotics.) I was told that Zimbabwe is hemorrhaging residents into South Africa - that's part of the problem with the "black" townships in South Africa - they are filled with illegal immigrants. Wow - to think that living in the slums of South Africa is a better life than living in Zimbabwe. While in South Africa we talked to a taxi driver who was an engineer in Zimbabwe. He left his country because there are less and less freedoms there - the police just harass you for no reason, make threats, or worse. Zimbabwe's (formerly Rhodesia) president, Robert Mugabe, revised the country's constitution to keep himself president. Although there was an election in March of 2008 Mugabe hasn't conceded his position and now shares leadership with Tsvangirai. The country suffers from a mismanaged economy and hyperinflation. While I was there I saw 5,000,000,000. notes/bills (Zimbabwean dollars)! Zimbabwe also suffers from atrocious human rights violations. I saw online (Wikipedia) that in November, 2008, the government of Zimbabwe spent $7.3 million donated by the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria on something other than what was intended. Who knew that such a short time in a place like Zimbabwe would have such an impact on me.
On a lighter note, we took a helicopter tour of the falls. It was my first time on a helicopter and it was SO much fun! During the ride I kept thinking, "Wow, I really want to learn how to fly one of these things!" I have no clue where that emotion is coming from...

Cape Town, Johannesburg, and Botswana

Enjoy! I think my favorite animal encounters were the lioness with her two cubs and the herd of elephants. The hyena was pretty cool too but much better on video than in photos.

Some Cape Town Photos

When I made this slide show, I accidentally made it accompanied by a song. Please just turn the song off - it does not go with the photos at all. There's so much more to say about each photo than the small caption I was allowed.
When going through the photos I remember how incredible it was to change the thinking of the teachers we trained. I thought watching "light bulb" moments with little first and second grade children was the greatest thing in the world - well, when you alter an adult's way of thinking it just changes something inside of you. In reality, I was there to guide and train them but I suspect I learned more from them then they learned from me. How is it that adults can say and do something utterly charming just the same as my little 6, 7, and 8 year-old cuties?
Please notice the difference between Camps Bay - a white neighborhood, the "colored" township, and the "black" township.
Please notice the difference between public and private schools - one looks like jail and the other looks like a resort.
Also, keep in mind that it's winter in the southern hemisphere and there is no central heating in most of the buildings/schools I spent time in (even the private school). Students stay in their winter gear throughout class.
The language, Xhosa, is pronounced "Cosa" (in English) but really the /X/ is a click sound. Xhosa is Nelson Mandela's home language and it has a beautiful sing-songy sound to it - it was lovely to listen to.