I still don’t like burgers though

Life, at this moment, has found me holed away in my apartment working on my final assignments at my kitchen table – scattered with books about Irish Architecture, empty water and diet coke bottles, and a plate that still shows signs of last night’s dinner (kinda gross and probably not necessary to include). Basically the image of poor planning and regret – nice. With 12,000 words standing between me and the plane I am catching in a few weeks to London then Tampa to meet my family for vacation, I find myself, instead of divulging in the fascinating and complex history of Irish Architecture, deciding to add a few more words to the count and reflect upon my experiences both this summer and fall. (More procrastination? Most likely.)

I couldn’t if I tried fit into one blog post the countless moments that have undoubtedly shaped my overall abroad experience and together made up the most formative year of my life. I could never put into words the way the world has absolutely captivated me and left me more confused than ever. I have seen many instances of genuine love and care for humanity on one hand, as well as witnessed instances of undeserved hardships and fear-driven hate on the other. Luckily, in my travels I have experienced more of the former, and will continue trying to figure out and, in the small scale of my own community, attempt to be a driving force against the latter.

A memory that I often find myself thinking back on fondly occurred during one of my final weeks in South Africa. The members of our house and some from the two houses next door all walked to Jerry’s, which is known for their giant burgers and really good milkshakes, as a send-off dinner for two people heading back home that week, one from the Netherlands and another from Colombia.  At one point in the dinner, probably after the rapid consumption began to slow and some of us “hit the wall,”  we looked around and realized that in our table alone (consisting of only 12 or so people), we represented something of 13 different countries (some duel citizens – not just me being bad at math) and 14 different languages (I’m not entirely sure of these numbers but it was something around there and it was mind-blowing to me).  Before meeting them, I’m not entirely sure I could even come up with that many languages off the top of my head, in all honesty. We talked about what made us excited to go home, what we would miss upon leaving Cape Town, and the probability of seeing each other again and visiting the places we’ve come to hear so much about during our time together.

Perhaps the most valuable aspect of traveling is that the world lets you in on this little secret (sometimes through a Jerry’s burger) – one that some people find exciting and others threatening – and that is: despite our varied socializations and backgrounds, we are fundamentally more alike than we are different.  Even without the traveling aspect, nations around the world are experiencing the effects of globalization in some capacity, and with this clear development, another development has subtly, but dangerously formed, except this one in the minds of those people who feel their national identity is being threatened – the fear of the other. Instead of seeing a world where we know more about the people, lifestyles, businesses, cultures, and governments of other countries as an exciting opportunity to work together to cultivate a shared responsibility, appreciation, and ultimately respect for an inherently common humanity, an overwhelming wave of fear, division, and extreme nationalism has seemingly swept over the globe in its place. Many have credited the election of Donald Trump, Britain’s decision to leave the EU, and the recent elections in other European nations to this notion, although I would like to steer clear from this topic. It is this idea that we need to build walls (figuratively and literally) to separate ourselves from the influence of the “other,” and preserve what makes us “great,” in the name of safety that is precisely what incites an unpredictable, unprecedented danger. In these trying times, it is imperative that nations begin to work together to generate a spirit of unity in the face of the humanitarian crises plaguing our global conscience.  There are people with families, friends, aspirations and dreams in every nation, whose lives differ from ours solely based on factors outside of their control, namely the birth lottery and the effects of its subsequent socialization.

On a smaller and more personal scale, we live during a time where there are a number of communities on the peripheral of our society who are worse positioned to engage in public and political discourse that would benefit them and break the cycle of injustice, and that’s where our generation comes in. It’s absolutely essential that we do not fall into the trap of feeling too small to accomplish anything of value. This reminds me of Pope Francis’ warning that our generation resist becoming paralyzed by the idea of “sofa happiness” or confusing happiness with a sense of comfort that comes along with simply playing the game of life exactly as it has been laid out for us, rather than insisting on something more just for all people.  This is an illusion, because what matters the safety of only one privileged group when there are catastrophes calling our humanity into question?

We must remain unsatisfied with our efforts to improve the lives of those systematically discriminated upon until their needs are satisfied – refusing to nod off and let others, who may be more alert, but not as socially minded, make decisions on behalf of us all that will impede future growth.

I just realized that my 30 minute study break to discuss my time abroad turned into an actual rant. So to bring things back to the original intent of this post – these travels were absolutely incredible.  I had the time of my life and learned a lot while doing so, but I still have lots of learning to do… especially about the building materials essential in the development of Irish Architecture specifically exemplified through 3 distinct Trinity College buildings.

See you in a few weeks for Christmas, America!

Seven Gates, Twelve Turns of a Key, Twenty-Eight Buttons, and Five Miles

Joseph B. Wirthlin, award winning author and esteemed businessman wrote:

“The more often we see the things around us – even the beautiful and wonderful things – the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds – even those we love. Because we see things so often, we see them less and less.” 

Part 1: The Beauty

In a place like Cape Town, South Africa, home to one of the Seven Wonders of the World, it is easy to see the beauty upon first glance. There is the most obvious beauty, the kind seen in the mountains that almost entirely encompass and secure the city—from the townships like Philippi or Langa to the resort-like, idyllic beaches of Camps Bay.  There’s beauty in the upbeat lifestyle… complete with a town full of markets, high end boutiques and shops, restaurants with people eating outside talking loudly sharing stories, and at nights, bars with loud music and cheery-eyed people singing and swaying throughout the streets. There’s beauty in the adventure—with excursions and tours offering bungee jumping, safaris, skydiving, shark-cage diving, endless hikes, and much more!!! This beauty is hard to miss… as it’s the kind of beauty that draws people to a city like this – the kind responsible for creating and sustaining Cape Town’s position as one of the most desired destinations of travelers from around the world.

There’s a more subtle type of beauty here, as well. It’s seen in eye contact and a shared smile between strangers walking past each other, demonstrating an interaction not obstructed or avoided all together by the presence of an iPhone. It’s heard when church groups on Sundays sing and parade through the town full of this indescribable light, when children at the school across the street line the fence during their break and wave and cheer at every person walking by, when the train near my window takes people to-and-from work in the mornings, and when the voices of people I work and live with are overflowing with passion about their professions, their family and friends, their experiences and their lives in general (I kind of see this as “hand-me-down” beauty—people being enlightened and inspired by certain aspects of their lives, and in turn, unknowingly inspiring others to do the same. Basically people doing the opposite of what Wirthlin’s quote suggests as a reality. I’ve noticed this is common here—people radiating their passions. They live expressively and are unapologetically and unmistakably themselves.  It’s refreshing to be around.). This beauty is quiet, but can be seen when you look just a little bit closer. 

And then, there’s a beauty that is nearly invisible… completely elusive to those who do not take the time to uncover it. It is an ironic beauty in the sense that it is a product of something so polar opposite.  The townships provide a perfect example of this. The term “township” in South Africa does not have a formal definition, but it generally refers to the under-resourced residential areas that were reserved for non-whites during the Apartheid. That was a polite way of saying non-whites who were in or around the designated “white only” areas were forced out to occupy undesirable, infertile lands that the whites did not want and were given very minimal supplies for adequate shelter and food. For a number of years, water was not supplied, police were not sent, and the townships were basically neglected (but were always being told by the government that it was actually good because it meant they were “independent”).

*note: very simplified summary of a very complex history

Notice how the city and townships are SO CLOSE to each other. I think this plays a huge role in why I have seen a lot more bitterness here than in other low-income places. With the city serving as an insight to the lifestyle of those with so much more, it is much easier to be reminded of where they fall on the socioeconomic ladder. Some argue that this comparison should, instead, instill a sense of motivation among people in townships (really..?), however, with such systematic discrimination and  post-apartheid policies passed on a mere basis of symbolism, people in these communities have begun to lose hope. (understandably)

Sadly, the lasting legacy of the Apartheid (which legally ended in 1994 – roughly 20 years ago) has manifested itself in not only the physical suffering of the poor blacks in the townships, but in a certain suffering of the soul as well. There is bitterness that I have never seen or experienced before (more on this later). People are dying of starvation (I’m getting off track… but can you believe that so many people living in poverty around the world die because they don’t have something as simple as a handful of rice or beans each day? Blaming/applauding Peter Singer’s The Most Good You Can Do for making this thought and others of the sort pop up endless times per day.), HIV, murder (50 per day) and rape (144 reported cases per day) Cape Town Facts.

It’s not cute or pretty… let alone beautiful; and when we see something like this from our cars as we drive by, or our plane window as we fly into Cape Town International, our mind understandably goes to the horrifying facts and common knowledge about “places like that.” We may feel sorry or saddened, but other topics soon fill our thoughts and we go on. 

We go on.

However, if we took the time to dive in, to really get to know the people and the lifestyle of the townships, we may come across some pure moments of hope and beauty, juxtaposed with these conditions of extreme suffering. It’s incredible. It’s in the kids who want better for themselves, their families, and their neighbors, so they study hard in school and have big dreams for their futures that they will tell you eagerly and with the widest eyes and brightest smiles you have ever seen. It’s in the non-profits that provide the teachers, programs, and psycho social services for the children to support  these bright-eyed, toothless-grinned dreams. It’s in the adults who were once beneficiaries of those programs – the ones who were dedicated to their studies, worked long hours, and when they were offered jobs or were financially stable enough to leave, decided to stay in their own communities to help others like themselves.

Two girls who are beneficiaries of South African Education and Environment Program and are grade 8 learners in a township school Siphumelela.

This is a mural located in Philippi that was painted by South African Education Project’s art class. Chuma Nozewu, the program director who grew up in the township, said that the murals were getting positive responses from community members and in turn, instilled a sense of pride in the children. He says, “It’s important for our kids to know that they don’t have to wait until they are older and graduated to see that they can make a difference in their communities. Even without many resources, we can inspire and initiate forces for good.”

Muhammad Yunus, economist and author of Banker to the Poor wrote, “When you hold the world in your palm and inspect it only from a bird’s eye view, you tend to become arrogant – you do not realize that things get blurred when seen from an enormous distance.”  He’s right. It is so important to, instead, look with a worm’s eye (do they even have them?) view and really notice the people, places, and causes that need attention around us. There are too many beautiful stories of light and hope disguised in such immense suffering, and we will be missing our chance to witness or maybe even be a part of them if we fail to immerse ourselves deeply enough.

Part 2: The Ugly

In Wirthlin’s excerpt that I included at the beginning of this piece, he is primarily focusing on how we tend to stop appreciating the beautiful aspects of our lives—the beauty that people get so used to seeing and experiencing that it stops holding the weight that it should, inspiring as it should, or being the light that it truly is. However, at this point, I would like to suggest that this quote be looked at from another angle, as well.  Isn’t it also true, that the more often we see the ugly and horrifying things, the more those, too, become invisible to us? Maybe this neglect does not occur as quickly, as it is often said (and proven) that our brains tend to hold on to negative sights, feelings, emotions, or words for much longer; but nonetheless, I think it is just as important to be wary of overlooking things that may be uncomfortable and unsettling.

Specifically, the word that first comes to mind is desensitization—a concept that interests me and a reality that scares me. Psychologists define desensitization as “the diminished emotional responsiveness to a negative or adverse stimulus after repeated exposure to it”.  Desensitization is primarily used to help individuals “unlearn” certain anxieties or phobias as an act of unconscious protection.  However, when I think about who desensitization is protecting, especially in terms of my time here, I get super uncomfortable with it.  Here in South Africa, it’s protecting me—the girl already removed five miles from the township and protected, throughout the course of any given day, by seven metal gates, twelve turns of a key, and twenty-eight buttons on a keypad. The girl who is pursuing a degree from one of the best universities in America and returning to a loving family and a nice house. The girl whose life has remained almost entirely unscathed by the hand of injustice and discrimination.

To some point, I do agree that desensitization is good.  If I felt the same paralyzing discomfort and crippling anxiety that I felt on my first day in the townships every day after as well, my ability to be the best version of myself to whoever I encountered would be compromised immensely.  So, I decided that, to some degree, desensitization has its place.  Also, I see value in something I’ll call “specific desensitization” or maybe “specialization of desensitization” (I made these up…).  Maybe, there is a way to take the good parts of desensitization and leave the negative aspects out of it with the ultimate goal of channeling this process into something productive. For example, maybe I can become desensitized to the adults who yell at our staff when we walk into the townships and call us the same nasty slang word I cannot spell or pronounce (the high school kids told me it means “white whore”. Nice.) and spit and give dirty looks, but not desensitized to why they act this way—why their hearts are hardened and bitter.

Final thoughts

In order to most effectively work towards improvement in disadvantaged communities—whether those communities are in Haiti, Honduras, South Africa or your own backyard—it is important that our actions are rooted in an appreciation for and awareness of all the blessings of our own lives (the obviously and subtly beautiful), but also ignited by a discomfort and dissatisfaction with the injustices affecting those around us (the ugly). We need to feel both. We need to be completely in awe at God’s creation and completely unsettled by it in order to live full lives. It’s uncomfortable, but that’s good. No sustainable development or revolution or life-changing movement ever happened because people were comfortable, and I have no doubts that our generation is going to accomplish some incredible advancements in the way of global development and human rights.

 

Some articles/books that are interesting and worthwhile reads:
Gates Foundation Annual Letter (2014)
Business Insider - What life was like in South Africa during the apartheid
Muhammad Yunus' Banker to the Poor: Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty (book)
Evaluation methods and indicators of poverty and welfare