For better or for worse, an experience as new and anticipated as my cross-cultural makes me hyper-aware of what I am learning and how I approach both extraordinary and mundane events. I catch myself trying to analyze-to-death some insignificant piece of glass or trash on the ground, and I tell myself to relax and back away from my absurdly poetic state of mind. But there is a lot of value in noticing, and moments when I can recognize the mundane as extraordinary are particularly rewarding: feeding the drab sparrows daily with a heel of bread; helping my host mother make cole slaw; watching a kid withdraw his sticky, slobbery hand from his mouth to grab my arm and choosing to appreciate our interaction of stranger with stranger.

On the way to the apartheid museum today, there was another moment when the mundane became beautiful. We were driving to the museum in our rented taxis, and a revolting pop country song was playing – twangy guitar, heavy beat, crooning female vocalist. But in a taxi driving through Soweto, I enjoyed the music in a way that’s hard to articulate, the song, the environment, and the pathos of the moment fit together perfectly, and I was happily content where I was.

At the museum, I lingered in the Nelson Mandela exhibit. Moving through a chronological account of Mandela’s life, I learned that Mandela was one of the first ANC leaders to suggest publicly that South Africans use violence against the apartheid government. This did not fit my impression of the Nobel laureate. I moved on, dismayed, until the exhibit began to address Mandela’s home in prison. A quote from Desmond Tutu said that Mandela transformed in prison from an angry revolutionary to a man who valued the humanity of his opponents. Knowing more about Mandela’s journey to peace, he seems more human now because he had to work to form his values, changing from a man who dismissed non-violence to a man who pushed for negotiation 30 years later.

-Tsepiso Moremoholo (Brendan Erb)

On Friday we had a debriefing session which included the group + each person’s host mother. The discussion mediator asked us to reflect and share on how our world view or perspective of self has changed through the three weeks together in Soweto. It was silent for several minutes while each person mulled over the significance of the question. Mme Nora broke the silence with a story about her upbringing. She grew up despising whites for the oppression of her mother who was a domestic worker in a white household. After getting an education so she would never be in that situation, Mme Nora knew she had to forgive. Even though she chose to forgive the whites for the oppression and hurt, she couldn’t forget. She shared about how thankful she is for the opportunity to host students over the years because through our smiles each day we help her to forget.

Many of the students also shared. One spoke on how he had heard about white privilege but didn’t actually understand until his time here in Soweto. He saw how truly privileged he is to be able to further his education and have an experience like this one.

I shared about learning to be content. I feel like at home I am never content. I am always looking ahead to what is happening in the future. Here in South Africa I am completely content in living in the present. There is no reason to worry about what is going to happen in the future because plans will probably change anyway. I’m getting so much more out of this experience through being present rather than worrying about what is happening next. I am so thankful for this new perspective.

One person shared about the love she has received here. She didn’t realize that in such a short amount of time she could receive so much love and care. She mentioned that every time a Mme says “I love you” she knows that it is genuine.

We have truly received an extraordinary amount of love, and I am so thankful. It is going to be excruciating to leave the families that we have been a part of these last few weeks, but each person is excited for the new experiences to come in Lesotho. Thank you for every thought and prayer that has fueled this journey so far. We would appreciate continued prayers as we move further into the unknown.

-Lebohang Dieta (Caitlyn Suttles)

“Motho ke motho ka batho.”  – A person is a person through other people.

In our last week in Soweto, we took a trip to visit the Apartheid Museum. After the initial shock of turning in to the gate of an amusement park (surprisingly situated right next to the museum), I tried to put myself in the solemn mood that I take on when entering into all museums. I’m here to learn. I’m here to focus, I’m here to absorb dates and facts. But the Mandela exhibit wasn’t like that. As soon as I turned the corner to enter in the exhibit, I was greeted with a colorful, musical depiction of Mandela’s life. Nelson Mandela. Such a legendary figure. It’s hard to remember sometimes that he too was a mortal man.

In the whole exhibit showing the life of nelson Mandela, the thing that made me pause was one little African proverb on one little panel about Mandela’s childhood. “A person is a person through other people.”  And it was like, “Oh yeah. There were more people involved. It’s not just Mandela. THE Mandela. There are others.” In a country that has Mandela day, Mandela memorials, Mandela murals, Mandela on the money, it can seem like a one-man show. But there are others. Motho ke motho ka batho. A person is a person through other people.

And if there is one lesson I’ve learned in Soweto, I would say that is it. A person is a person through other people. I don’t know if you all know this, but in Soweto people are everywhere. There is really no space. But having no space means the people of Soweto have turned into one big family. A family that we have been lucky enough to be included in for three weeks. How our host families have managed to give us all their love and attention in such a short amount of time I may never know. But one thing I do know is that I am more of a person because of it. A person is a person through other people.

-Kamohelo Khomongata (Mila Litchfield)

Each day is filled with new faces and new smiles. When we entered the primary school I watched as little eyes looked at us. Their smiles only showed after a friendly wave from someone in our group. Their dark eyes have so much wonder and warmth. They had a performance for us with dancing and singing. Oh, how I wish I could dance like they do. We were split into pairs to sit in classrooms to “observe.” See, the funny thing is we didn’t really blend into the back of the class like we thought we could. Shelby and I were greeted by lots of kids pulling at us. We were surrounded by fifteen kids in the back of the class. They eagerly taught us Sesotho words as the teacher taught a lesson to the other students. Before we knew it, the teacher was gone and we were left alone with about 30 sixth graders. The two of us burned time by playing games and entertaining them by taking pictures. I took a video and they all jumped up and down, pushing one another. The children were full of energy and excitement. I left the classroom feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.

Our group went to a different primary school a week later and I prayed the teacher was going to be in the class. Nathaniel and I were assigned to help with the Phys. Ed. class outside, which I was excited about. We led relay races with Kindergarten age kids. I had them stand in a line and act out their favorite animal as we walked to the other side of the field. It was by far my favorite part of the day. They were so happy and hyper! There was a lunch break time for the students and it was madness. Kids were climbing on things, pushing each other and running around. I did not see any teachers around anywhere. I have been learning so much by seeing how teachers and schools are run differently. It is not right or wrong, just different. These South Africa children are given the opportunity to express themselves freely and are impressively very confident in themselves.

I also noticed a lot of confidence from the high school students we met when visiting two high schools. One girl asked me why I wasn’t talking and I told her I was not sure what to say. She pointed around her class and said, “Everyone here is talkative, everyone is outgoing.” She was right and everyone was bold. It seemed to come across as being cocky or self-centered, but I am now thinking that South Africans are not afraid to express themselves while Americans are self-conscious and concerned how others will perceive them. I’ve learned so much from going to the schools and meeting new people.

-Paballo (aka Kari Denlinger)

Though every day so far here in Africa has been a journal worthy day, there are some experiences that have me running to pen and paper. I was outside my house asking Brendan if he thought I should keep carrying around an old bed sheet that I hadn’t used yet. I decided not to keep it, and asked Mme Nora if she would have any use for it. She exclaimed “Yes!” and embraced me and kissed me. She continued to thank me and told me that she would always think of me when she used it. I’ve never seen thankfulness like that before. Random experiences like this are much more telling of the mindset of the people here than what any book can convey.

-Tankiso (aka Kevin Martin)

All my days run together here in Africa. So many new experiences take place every day; it’s hard to keep up. Independent African Churches and schools are very different than those in America. The Church Service reminded me of how I pictured a cult. There was a lot of chanting while dancing around in a circle. Who knows how long it lasted, for we had to leave before it was over, having stayed there over two and a half hours. They don’t have any agenda on Sunday and overlook the growling of their stomachs in order to stay and fellowship, praising God.

When our parade of white people arrived at the high school, a flood of African students were filling the buildings. They were staring and whistling as we walked into a classroom. They welcomed us with African songs, poems, and dances. We also performed a couple songs and a skit. They really enjoyed our rendition of “Call Me Maybe” (Harlan’s favorite song) and the local students joined with us the 2nd time around.

The skit was a bit more serious, displaying several scenes of domestic violence. The students were knowledgeable about the seriousness of the subject and how it affects their own country. The grim truth of reality didn’t dampen our spirits for long. We started dancing again and the mood was lightened. There was so much laughter and fist pumping after Mila was brought into the circle and was kissed by an African boy as part of the dance. Harlan said this was significant for them because it showed we don’t thinking they’re unclean, but equal to us. They have so much spirit and freedom in the way they express themselves.

-Dineo (aka Shelby Helmuth)

As we pulled into the airport, a buzz of excitement began to make its way through our group. The waiting was over, the anticipation gone, and we were finally on our way. Gradually the other passengers on the plane began to learn of our trip, and many expressed concern at our staying in Soweto Township. During apartheid, this area was set aside for blacks to live. White South Africans avoid the area out of fear, and it is uncommon for a white person (let alone a large group) to undertake an extended stay. But, great risks reap great rewards.

Throughout the plane ride (a total of 18 hours), there was much visiting between the EMU students and our excitement refused to be quelled. At our layover in Bakar the general consensus was, “we’re in Africa!” With another eight hours of flight, we forced ourselves to sleep, attempting to adjust the time difference, a feat helped along by the captain and flight crew. Though the flight was long, we remained comfortable and I am told that the accommodations and service on the plane were well above par (something I would not know as a first time flyer).

Our plane landed in Johannesburg around five Thursday evening, constituting 24 hours lost to travel and time zones. After we gathered our luggage and exchanged our dollars to South African rand, we crammed ourselves (and our bags) into two vans, marking the beginning of our tribal bonding.

At St. Benedicts, we took little time to unpack, deciding to sing worship songs late into the night. We followed this with a variety of card games, starting a favored Cross-cultural tradition. Our days here at St. Benedicts have given a sense of surrealism, yet the time has brought us closer to each other than ever before. We are grateful for these days and approach our first homestay with the conviction to rely on the strength and support of God and each other.

It is hard to fully explain to others the experience this semester has been and will become. I feel so blessed to be a part of this group and am excited to continue this journey alongside them. Rea Sechaba. We are a tribe. And together, nothing is going to stop us.

-Katarina Napfel

Smiles. Laughter. Love through eye contact. Looking around the circle today showed me more about the group and bo mes (our mothers) than I could have asked for. Trevor’s Me looking so affectionately at him. With the same look of a newborn and his mother. Me Nora holding Kevin’s hand. Clearly there is more going on there than just a three week friendship. These women and their families have committed to loving us and are un-intimidated by our differences. They know how to truly love like Jesus loved. Me Pinky’s smile sneaking out from her tough and removed expression. She is learning with us about trusting each other. Close physical contact means sharing more than just warm facial exchanges. Me Tshidi’s arm against mine, not an accidental graze (like i would expect) but a comfortable placement close to mine. Patience with our minimal understanding of their language or pronunciation. Conversations, and comparisons of how Americans and South Africans behave in banks and public. The people feel closer. The sun feels closer. God feels closer.

-Hannah Schrock