Chilling in Pretoria

So my camp was an amazing success, if I do say so myself. The girls were so into it, the teachers participated, there were no more than 3 major disasters a day. It was really, really great. I feel like now, 11 months in, I've finally Done Something Important. Like this could really make a difference or something for at least a few girls.

It was so great to watch both the kids and their teachers come out of their shells and really begin participating as the days went on. On the first day everybody pretty much clustered by school or age, until Liz, Amber and myself relentlessly made them split up and mix around. By the end of the second day (self-esteem and goal setting) they were talking, playing, hanging out together. The teachers were participating in and leading if not most than a lot of the camp (at one point I found myself just sitting on a bench, watching, and thinking to myself -- "I feel so lazy! Oh wait...they're supposed to do it themselves. Weird.") We talked about HIV/AIDS and there were so many really good questions. A nurse came in, and a local police officer, and talked to the kids about rights and health and puberty and all the rest of it. Possibly the very best part of the whole camp was our "I Can't" Funeral.

An I can't funeral is supposed to be more or less what it sounds like. Kids write down all the things they can't do ("I can't speak siswati, I can't keep the comments to myself, I can't stop being anal retentive about time even though I'm in Africa, etc...")and then you do a short shpiel about "today we are burying I can't, there is nothing we can't do, bla bla bla" and throw it all in the fire. In the states thats how it would work anyway. Here we had an ENORMOUS traditional swazi funeral that I never saw coming. The teachers told me not to worry and that they would take care of things (which of course is traditionally where I would start worrying). So I just decided to wait and see. About 8pm they all file into a small room singing and dancing, they have benches set up like a church, there's a choir, there's a pastor, there's an MC. We have singing and eulogies ("this man, he was very ugly")and sermons and everything else they could think of, until finally after everybody has danced their way up to the front do deposit their card in our beautifully made cereal-box coffin, we all parade outside and toss it into the bonfire. Amazing.

The next day we all got together and planned out clubs, speak-outs, dramas, poetry sessions, and everything else that they could think of to teach their friends and schools about HIV, Self-esteem, and even a little bit of gender roles (like I'm going to let that go just because I'm in South Africa).

So the verdict on the first annual Likusasa Letfu girl's camp: Kick Ass

(I have pictures, lots and lots of pictures, and I will post them all ... eventually. I promise. But for now bear with me, cuz I'm still working on it.)