A Broad Abroad

In honor of World AIDS Day...a look back

2010-12-01T02:10:00.000-08:00

A look back to World AIDS Day 2006, when I was working at a township in South Africa... Entitled, "The Day I finally cried"

hello to all my loved ones out there! I started writing this last
week, when I was still up in Knsyna, but wasn't able to finish it.
It's weird how even one week later, outside of Knysna, the emotions
are less intense, the memories less vivid. I can only imagine what
will happen when I return to the US (in four days!). That's why I
haven't written until now also, because I'm squeezing all the time I
can here, putting closure on things, saying my goodbyes to people and
places....more on that later, first on World AIDS Day, or the day I
finally cried, or the day I call the culmination of my time here in
South Africa.

Yesterday, as all of you know, was World AIDS Day, and in many ways
felt like the culmination of my time here. For two reasons: First,
Beaty, the woman who I have become so close with ( whose sister died
of AIDS when I first met her in April, whose mother died of diabetes
one month later, who has become head of the household, of the soup
kitchen, who came with me to Toronto, who has the most beautiful
daughter, you've heard all this before), in any case, Beaty organized
and mc'ed the township's World AIDS Day event. As I filmed my friend
on stage, speaking passionately and from the heart, I felt such pride
and love. It has been an honor to have become friends with her, to
have seen her in both hard times and in times of hope, to be let into
her family, and to see her emerge as an AIDS activist in her community
and, well after the Toronto Conference, in the world. And in a place
where 30% of people are HIV positive, she is the only one who is open
about her status. Still, though she has many hardships she faces, she
remains hopeful, she has a sense of humour, and she finds her strength
in helping other people. I have never seen her so beautiful and so
powerful as on World AIDS Day, when she released 920 balloons into the
air, one for each person who dies of AIDS in South Africa every day.

I don't usually say statistics, but let me say these again (and as in
the US I know the war in Iraq is the main headliner rather than HIV,
let's remember how many people die in Iraq each day- about 100, which
is still terrible): BUT, 920 people DIE of AIDS in SOUTH AFRICA EVER
DAY.

The number is still too large to grasp, and yet when I think of Beaty,
of Jennifer- of what a loss a family can face with the death of one
member...it becomes more real, more personal, it makes some sort of
sense rather than being lost as a statistic. I hope to somehow convey
that in a film, because I think other people are thirsty for a
different image of "victims of AIDS in Africa"- of people, not numbers
(interesting how "numb" starts "numbers", how we do become numb to
them)

But back to the balloons. I was brought to tears as Mookie (Beaty's
family nickname) let the balloons go and said into the mic, "Let HIV
fly away from our communities, our country, and the world just as
these balloons fly away into the sky."

I have come to truly love this family, and it was very very sad to say
goodbye- how do you say goodbye to someone that you have come to love
and that you may never see again? All we could do was hug and cry.
Oh, and I got little Timmy a puppy named Thandi (meaning Love) to
remember me by, so that's something. ha. It was adorable though, but
not nearly as cute as Timmy, who also cried as I pulled away, somehow
knowing that this would be goodbye for a long time.

The second big reason why World AIDS Day was the culmination of my
time here is because of the short films that the kids at MADaboutART
made. I wasn't sure if we would be able to finish them in time, but
somehow the little geniuses pulled it off and we didn't have any major
technical gliches! We showed the films to about 200 community
children in the township town hall - one about stigma and
discrimnation against those living with HIV, the second about the
importance of not throwing trash int eh community, and the third about
a daughter who is raped by her father and not believed by her mother.
Though the kids chose the stigma and discrimination film as the winner
(because they had funnier characters, mainly Beaty's nephew/now son,
Ebby), the one about the incestuous rape was the one that made me cry.
Before we screened the films publicly, we were watching them at the
center and one of the kids' moms was around and crying because of the
films and by the kids, and who said what an impact they will make on
the community. I have to admit that though I call the kids my little
geniuses and have high expectations for them already- I too am blown
away by how the films turned out, and what type of reaction they are
already getting from people. The power behind these films isn't
dependent on which wins, but ont he process of it, of giving the kids
a voice, and as Beaty says even "if one parent stops and listens, it
is worth it." As i watch the kids watch the films over and over
again, and the older ones picking up editing, I am just so proud (the
films will be up later for all to see!).

A few days ago I met (through various connections) the founder of an
organization called Barefoot Workshops, that runs
film/editing/computer workshops for NGO's around the world and then
gives them the computer and tools to make their own short
documentaries- basically exactly what I loved about being at
MADaboutART. I told them how I would love to do what they do in five
years and the guy said "five years? why not six months?" They were
also blown away by the films that the kids made. One of the women
said to me (she met the kids a few days before at the National Art
Gallery showing of their Rainbow of Hope), "you've lit a spark in
them. It's very obvious how much you have impacted them." Tears came
to my eyes then.

In other news, I got interviewed randomly by BBC radio (also on NPR)
about race in Cape Town with my Kenyan housemate- I'll let you know
when it's broadcast. Also, the MTV film contest- of which Beaty,
Siphiwe, and I were a part of in the Toronto AIDS Conference- showed
across the world on World AIDS Day- did anyone see it?? I didn't but
a friend of mine here said she saw it and that they did end up using
my footage from Knysna!! So that will be great for my resume and is
validating, especially since I just found out that the film has
already won an award for Best Short Narrative! exciting things.

I have so much more to write, and will try to write before I head home
on Monday, about what it's been like to say goodbye, and to reflect on
an amazing, intense, life changing ten months. Until then, I'll be
dancing at two fo the best dj's in the country's shows in Cape Town- I
know I'll miss the dancing here, even as a white girl who has her own
funky dance!

Love to all! Thanks so everyone for writing me, for sending love, for
reading htis, and just for being in my life! I can't wait to hear
everyone's voices next week!

A Day in the Life of a Dorot Fellow

2010-11-03T01:12:00.001-07:00

This week, we got a taste of the IDF, how it works, how it impacts Israeli society, and the ethical dilemmas it faces.

Repeal Proposition 8

2009-09-07T13:22:00.000-07:00

This is my first video art piece (yes, I had to google it too), on display for several months at the Hebrew Union College. Pass along to your friends!

Hatikvah Beat Boxing Video! Happy Birthday Israel!

2009-04-29T16:02:00.000-07:00

In celebration of Israel’s 61st birthday, may I present to you Dewdrop Films’ latest collaboration video, “Hope Remixed.” Together with artists and activists from around the world, this “Hativkah” Beat-Boxing video is an expression of hope and optimism, with a new beat. In a time when the image of Israel is too often of war and conflict, “Hope Remixed” celebrates Israel’s diversity, beauty, history, and modernity.

www.youtube.com/hoperemixed

Celebrate with Israel! SEND this video to your family, friends, Facebook friends, tweeters, and any other social networks! And, SHARE your own experiences and messages of hope! UPLOAD your video/photo montage to www.youtube.com/hoperemixed or text it to hoperemixed898@m.youtube.com.

The best video will win my new favorite toy - the Flip MinoHD camera!

This video was produced by Hillel: The Foundation for Jewish Campus Life, and will be sent to their various networks, including Hillel professionals, Birthright alumni, Hillel Latin America, FSU, and Israel Fellows. I was honored to be asked to direct their video for the "ICare" campaign to humanize Israel. We are trying to reach 50,000 views for Israel’s birthday, but I say we strive for 61,000!

Happy Birthday Israel! You don't look a day over 60!

Maital

Inauguration Day with Obama and Oprah

2009-01-29T15:37:00.000-08:00

The Obama World Tour culminated in an INCREDIBLE Inauguration Day, including meeting the Big O- not Obama, but OPRAH! I somehow found myself about 150 feet away from the podium, where I rolled with the likes of Denzel Washington, Samuel L Jackson, Jesse Jackson, Oprah, and Sarah Silverman.

On Friday, I got a phone call that my buddy had an extra Congressional Ticket to the Inauguration in DC. Though I was supposed to be flying back to LA, I figured out how to get from upstate New York down to DC the Monday before Big Tuesday, and spent the night with two of my best friends from Duke, who had also volunteered on the campaign. Early Tuesday, we took the metro into town, which was already packed with people, cheering and crying. My friends had tickets to a different section, so I was left on my own—I put on my ipod headphones and made my way through the crowds, past security, and onto the Capitol lawn. Once inside, the Israeli in me kicked in, and I wondered how close I could get to the podium. I stealthily maneuvered my way through some gates, over a small wall, and somehow found myself in the VIP section with friends of the Pres. and VP. I looked to one side of me and there was Denzel Washington and Samuel L Jackson, hugging and celebrating the historic moment. I turned then to my other side and only three feet away from me was OPRAH (and Gail). I stood there in disbelief and awe for about ten minutes, until I finally built the courage to talk to her.

“Oprah,” I said, “I just want to shake your hand. Thank you for all the work you are doing in South Africa. It inspired me throughout my ten months living there, and I am now in post-production on a film about my friend’s story of hope living with HIV.”

She gave me the Oprah eyes of compassion, love, and understanding, and squeezed my hand.

I smiled, handed her my card, and thanked her again for all the work she has done.

Then, the big moment had arrived, almost too magnificent to comprehend. After all that our country has been through, the pain and divisions amongst people here was finally a celebration of moving beyond boundaries towards a common goal of hope. Together with 1.8 million others on the Capitol Mall, and millions watching and listening all over the world, I witnessed the swearing in not just a new President, but a new era of American politics and power. I was about 150 feet away from the podium.

As Yo Yo Ma played, I noticed that the woman sitting beside me was good ol’ Sarah Silverman. I have always regretted not talking to her at the “Mechina: A Preparation” DVD release party, and here life had brought her to me again. She remembered seeing the film and we talked about Israel, where her sister lives but she has never visited. She introduced me to her friend and together we smiled, cheered, and cryed.

Writing this now brings tears to my eyes. I know that I can’t expect President Obama to solve all of our many problems, but I believe he can steer our country again in the right direction, and that he can—and already has—inspired millions to be a part of that change. Yes, We Did. Yes, We Will.

Obama Commemorative Poster

2008-11-10T20:45:00.000-08:00

Check out my friend Michael Faber's awesome commemorative poster for the new President Obama!!

www.cafepress.com/barack_wins

NC: Faces from the Frontline

2008-10-31T05:01:00.000-07:00

MY NEW VIDEO!! A video montage from political battleground state North Carolina in the last weeks of the 2008 Presidential Election. VOTE, VOTE NOW, VOTE OBAMA!

NC: Faces from the Frontlines from Maital Guttman on Vimeo.

Created and Produced By
Maital Guttman and Madeleine Sackler

Photographs by
Maital Guttman and Michael Faber

Music by
Mark Hill

Raleigh Rally!

2008-10-29T17:32:00.000-07:00

today, Madeleine and I saw Obama in Raleigh. She made it to the press section and I made it to the bleachers twenty feet behind him. It was my fifth time seeing him, and each time, I am more and more inspired. Enjoy the pics!

Some photos from the campaign trail

2008-10-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

North Carolina! Raise Up!

Joe the Senator

2008-10-25T21:15:00.000-07:00

Joe (the Senator) Biden speaks at Wake Forest University on Oct 23, 2008. Here, he speaks about the deal between the government and the youth- they'll help pay for college if people do military or national (ie Americorps) service. Brilliant.

Rapper for Obama

2008-10-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

While waiting in line at the Obama rally in Fayetteville, NC. Oct. 17, 2008.

check it...

Grandmother for Obama

2008-10-23T22:24:00.000-07:00

We met this Southern Grandmother while standing in line to hear Obama speak in Fayetteville. I love the Southern drawl, especially her granddaughters!

*note: this is also the moment I learned that Colin Powell endorsed Obama earlier that morning!

Oct. 17, 2008

Obama in Asheville

2008-10-23T08:03:00.000-07:00

powerful and inspiring- yes, we can!!

Cowboy for Obama

2008-10-22T21:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I have officially been to FOUR Obama appearances: the Western Wall in J'salem, his acceptance speech at Invesco Field, Asheville, NC and now military-town Fayetteville, NC. I'd never been before and was excited to check out the area and its Obama supporters.

Here we came across a real cowboy (and vet) for obama!

Obama in Fayetteville, NC

2008-10-19T21:37:00.001-07:00

Howdy Folks! Well, the Obama tour took me today to Fayetteville, NC. I had never been to this mostly military town, and was excited to head there with my best friend Kym, who came all the way from NYC to volunteer for the weekend! Why has Obama made so many appearances in our small state of NC, you may ask? Because though we may be a "hidden gem," known for our sweet tea- at election time, we hold 15 electoral votes that, if won by Obama, could set him over the edge to become the next President of the United States. God willing! Excitingly, this state has not gone blue since 1972, but from the looks of what's happening on the ground, this state might actually be the deciding factor!

This was my fourth time seeing Obama (after Jerusalem, Denver, and Asheville). This time, unlike the others, I had tears flowing down my cheeks throughout his speech- as he spoke about Colin Powell's endorsement, how it speaks to the nature of this campaign, how it brings people together- "Blacks, Whites, Hispanic, Native American, democrat, and republican" we are all American. As I looked at the faces around me, there were two things that I noted. The first is that the crowd, though it had all sorts of people, was a majority of African-Americans. As we interviewed whites and blacks, I couldn't help but feel inspired that this is exactly what this country needs. Electing Obama will help to heal the wounds of slavery, segregation, and race relations in this country. Electing our first African-American President will enable us to talk about our identities, our race, our experiences- and rather than divide us, I believe that Obama will, and already has, unite us in our common desire to believe in a better America for all people. Yes We Can!

I also noted that there was a high percentage of army families. In fact, the woman who introduced Obama is an army wife whose husband is risking his life for our country and yet who still cannot afford to make ends meet. Video in hand, we interviewed several Veterans for Obama, who talked about his stance on Veterans Issues, including the GI Bill for the 21st Century (which McCain voted AGAINST), and the need to bring our troops home safely and then help them reintegrate back into society.

I'll post videos of today up shortly. I left today feeling inspired, feeling hopeful that we can turn this country around towards a brighter tomorrow for us and our children.

Multimedia Presentation of South African Photos

2008-10-17T08:06:00.000-07:00

Check out this multimedia presentation of my photographic exhibit at the Green Bean in Greensboro.

Roxboro Rox For Obama

2008-10-15T09:21:00.000-07:00

This weekend, my team and I left the metropolis of Greensboro and headed to small town Roxboro, NC. Despite having lived in NC for 12 years, I had never driven on these back country roads, past rural towns, picturesque farms, convenience stores, and churches. I must admit, this is a beautiful state.

Having heard of our guerrilla campaigning for Obama, we were invited to Roxboro's first ever Obama rally. They wanted us to come project videos of Obama's speeches, ads (Yes, We Can, I Got a Crush on Obama), and the town's favorite- the Obama hustle. It was exciting that this typically red town was having a rally for Obama, and when I told them I was there from Los Angeles, everyone started clapping! Here's what the organizer wrote me afterwards:

Thanks so very much again. Many people told me afterward that this was something that the town had never before seen. A very special day for a small town. - Lucy Fox

Check out my buddy Michael Faber's photos (he also designed the Mechina: A Preparation website www.mechinathemovie.com) here. Also check out his blog at http://1000doors.wordpress.com/

Sarah Palin Glasses for Obama

2008-10-08T10:05:00.000-07:00

Faces of NC supporters of Obama. This woman was sporting Sarah Palin glasses, so we had to investigate...

Baby for Obama

2008-10-08T09:44:00.001-07:00

This family came all the way from Atlanta to hear Obama. DRIVE FOR CHANGE! Join them, come to NC, and help turn the state blue!

Here we found the youngest Obama supporter. Very wise... and adorable.

Hicks for Obama

2008-10-08T09:26:00.000-07:00

Faces of NC supporters of Barack Obama.

Republicans for Obama

2008-10-08T09:25:00.001-07:00

Faces of NC Supporters of Barack Obama

Immigrant for Obama

2008-10-08T09:22:00.000-07:00

Faces of NC supporters of Barack Obama.

It's Official!

2008-09-17T12:16:00.000-07:00

Hello all friends and supporters!

It's official- I am packing up my bags (the ones I have barely unpacked from the summer) and am heading to North Carolina for five weeks to campaign for Obama in my home-swingstate! I'll be living at home, traveling to cities across North Carolina, encouraging people to register, to vote, and to vote for Obama! I'll be knocking on doors, calling people, organizing events, and coming up with other fun ways to support Obama-Biden!

Stay tuned from the campaign trail!

Obama at the Western Wall

2008-09-17T12:15:00.002-07:00

The second moment occurred one night when I heard that Barack Obama was going to be visiting the Western Wall. It was an historic moment that I could not miss. Luckily, my friends were staying at a hostel in the Old City, and since I had never spent a night in the Old City, I decided to camp out on the rooftop of their hostel.

As I lay awake on a mattress, I could hear the Muslim call to prayer. Earlier I had heard church bells, and soon I would be standing with women who prayed at the Western Wall, the holiest site in Judaism. In that moment, under a gorgeous orange moon that reflected on the stones of the city, creating a light unlike any other I've seen, I felt at peace.

Jerusalem was quiet and asleep. At that moment I wasn't thinking about the terror attack that happened a few days ago, or the bodies of two soldiers who were finally returned to their families after two years of not even knowing if they were alive or not. Nor was I thinking about the fact that it’s actually more dangerous to drive in this country than anything else, as 46 people were killed in car accidents last month alone. At that moment on the rooftop, all I could think about was how beautiful this city is - so full of energy of thousands of years, of millions of people. At that moment Jersualem - literally "the city of peace" - lived up to its name.

Oh yeah, and seeing Obama at the wall was awesome - the orthodox women who camp out there every night were at first peeved that we were interrupting their prayers, and then when he finally stood before the wall, they all crowded around to see. One of them commented that "the Messiah should only get such a welcoming!"

Crashing the DNC!

2008-09-17T12:15:00.001-07:00

Hi from the Mile High City, where I have been “crashing” the DNC with my younger brother Yoav for the past couple of days! You may have read his blog about the first three days we were here- starting from the moment we were dropped off at the airport and had no idea where we would spend the night that night… www.yoavguttman.blogspot.com

I figured I’d give my own perspective. First, I didn’t realize the DNC was going to be such a party! Seriously, I think I spent less than $40 in five days because there have been too many events/receptions/parties to attend! We went to the free bowling party of the Religious Pro-Choice group, we karaoked on the streets, we schmoozed with our fellow NC delegates, the next Senator, and the Secretary of State. In many ways, it felt like a fun game to see what sort of parties we could get into. For example, I crashed an invite-only Creative Coalition party- a group of people in the TV and film industries who are politically active—Tim Daly hosted the show and the keynote speaker was J.P. from Paul Mitchel, whom I later introduced myself and talked about “Whatint Abafazi” (he looked at me in the eyes and said, “how can I make your life better?” I said, straight up, well I need money to produce this film. And he gave me the number to his personal assistant to contact him when he’s in LA!) In any case, we basically party surfed from one event to the other. The winners for best cocktail: NC Delegate with their banana martinis. The winner for the best food: Raw tuna with mango salsa on chips won me over at the Trick or Vote party for young people. The winner for best “protestors” – the Food Not Bombs crowd who gave out free, vegetarian meals and had a “green safe zone.”

Speaking of protestors, this leads me to a second observation: they were not kidding around with Security. It was intense, and I am not sure how I felt about it- one the one hand, I felt safe… on the other hand, I don’t have positive associations with soldiers marching through a small town. I’m going to upload some video of them marching. To their credit, the police were friendly and let us take pictures with them. It also made me remember the beauty of our country, where we can gather, demonstrate, and protest freely. May we always uphold these freedoms! Inshallah!

I was also impressed with the DNC’s commitment to Greening- they recycled and had compost bins! There was also a bike-sharing program where you could borrow a bike for free during the convention- what a beautiful idea!

Finally, and the whole reason why I was at the DNC, was Barack Obama’s historic acceptance speech at Invesco Field. I bought my return flight back to LA for Friday, even though I didn’t have tickets for the event, but hoping that I would be able to find a way in. And I did! (let this also be a lesson in the power of faith- when I put out what I hope to happen, and have faith and determination and some creativity, it often will work out). Thanks to my friends and NC Delegate Paul and May Gayle Meingert, I scored a ticket! We got there four hours early and found ourselves in a line more than a mile long! We couldn’t even find the end of the line and were nervous we wouldn’t even get in- luckily, we found a shorter line and within a half-hour we walked into the stadium where Sheryl Crow and Stevie Wonder were performing.

It was an evening that I will never forget, as it felt like I was watching history being made. The stadium was packed with more than 80,000 supporters of all backgrounds, colors, and faiths. What we had in common is our belief that our country has had enough of the past 8 years – that we need change in our country in all aspects, from foreign policy to health care at home. Obama’s speech outlined his plan on various issues, and each just made sense. It was as if, finally, a politician understood the needs of the people who have been hurt by the past 8 years of corruption, lies, fiscal irresponsibility, war, and tax breaks for the rich and for corporations. We need change- we need Obama and Biden! And this speech, where you could almost not hear what Obama was saying because people were cheering so loudly, only enhanced my support for Barack. Together, we can put this country back on track; together, we can improve our place in the world; together, we can make history and help our beautiful country- and all her people- reach their full potential. Yes we can!!

Trailer for the Next Dewdrop Films Production

2008-06-26T16:50:00.001-07:00

Whatint Abafazi: When You Strike a Woman from Maital Guttman on Vimeo.

Innovation Video Contest

2007-09-16T20:05:00.001-07:00

How does technology affect us today?

Mechina: A Preparation

2007-09-04T13:56:00.000-07:00

Trailer to the documentary, Mechina: A Preparation, a film about Israeli teens before they enter the army. Enjoy! www.mechinathemovie.com

Broken

2007-02-23T09:43:00.000-08:00

Scripted, acted, filmed and produced by youth at MADaboutART for World AIDS Day.

In Celebration of Life

2007-02-19T16:44:00.000-08:00

Shosholoza

2007-02-18T18:08:00.001-08:00

Fly Away Benefit

2007-02-14T19:35:00.000-08:00

3 videos from South Africa

2006-10-31T13:36:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqRkGZMm620

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2Ce25zRIBI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PH0so2yQrIk

vote for them!

sorted

2006-10-20T03:44:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone out there!

I usually write after an experience, and try to make some sort of
sense of it...and right now I'm writing fully in the experience
itself- where my wallet got stolen last night. Thankfully I wasn't
mugged or anything, it was just taken out of my bag (which is done
here pretty regularly), but the consequence of this means that I'm
left without my atm cards or any cash...so when shit hits the fan and
I'm not sure what's going to happen, and I'm stressing out about it,
then I figured- hey, why not make this an "experience" and write home
about it!

And so, here I am, using my laptop at the internet cafe which I
negotiated to give me 200 free internet minutes because I have been
coming here so often for four months. In my pocket is all the money I
have right now- about $9, on loan from my friend because she needs the
money and is, unlike me, actually poor rather than temporarily poor
and inconvenienced. I've cancelled all my cards and nothing was taken
out, and I'm going to check and re-check 100 times, but I'm pretty
sure it was stolen. I now have to figure out how to get my parents to
transfer money from the US to someone's account here in South Africa.
There aren't any Western Unions here, so if anyone out there knows of
a good way to transfer money abroad, please please let me know!

In some ways, though this is a huge inconvenience and I am really
bummed out because I was supposed to leave for Knsyna today to do more
filming and photography, and so now that will be postponed until I can
figure out how to get money in my pocket. But, as with many
experiences in life- both good and bad- this has already been a
learning experience.

For one, maybe it's good to see how most South Africans live, with
little or no money around, safely in a bank account to be withdrawn at
my leisure. I have never here had to stress about funding when I see
and hear my friends stress about it very regularly, so much so that
they can't go out for meals or one is considering teaching in Korea
for a few years to make enough money for her parents to retire. Maybe
this will open my eyes to a more genuine reality for so many people
here, and all of this still with the knowledge and security in the
back of my mind that this will all work out in the end, and hey maybe
I'll lose a few pounds in the process bc I don't have enough money for
food!! (joking about this, I'll be able to eat plenty- there's a
beautiful term here, ubuntu, which translates to like people, unity,
people giving and sharing with each other, that I know I'll be fine)

I also learned a very very valuable lesson last night, one that I
can't say how important it was for me, to realize that, despite trying
to be an aware and conscious white woman here as far as race goes,
that I- as with everyone- don't always understand how race plays into
a situation, and how my actions can offend deeply. Let me explain:

I was out with my friends, Jazz and her sister. Though their last
name, Levenberg, sounds Jewish, they are two coloured sisters who I
have become very close to here (and who knows, being of mixed descent
there probably was some Jewish in them). I realized pretty quickly
that my wallet was missing from my bag, and we returned to the car.
Frantically I searched the car, under the seats, between the cushions,
in my bag, in my pants, and then felt Jazz's pockets to see if her
wallet was there. To me, checking her pockets was just double
checking, as I'd want her to do for me or for my bag, that somehow she
didn't overlook the wallet in her pocket. Obviously, she hadn't and
it wasn't there.

But for her, my actions meant something totally different. There we
were, friends going out together and all of a sudden, in front of all
these other people waiting to get into the club, I was what looked
like frisking my friend, a white woman searching a coloured woman in
front of all these other people. She thought that I thought maybe she
had stolen it - can you imagine accusing a friend of stealing a wallet
and then searching them for it? And I can say I've never seen the
look she gave me as she said "Can we do this somewhere else, you are
embarrassing me."

To me, I never would have though she took money or I wouldn't even
have thought about if she had checked my pockets. And that is my
ignorance, that is what it means I suppose to be white and not to
always be a suspect, to be suspect, even of and from your own friends,
because that is how it is in this country. Later, after she helped me
get to an internet cafe to stop the cards, we had one of the most
honest conversations I've had here in South Africa. I just hadn't
realized how deeply I had hurt her, how strong my actions were, how
they were beyond me and her as friends, but that they are loaded,
colored by the color of our skin. She told me that if we hadn't been
such close friends, if it were any other person, she would have left,
she would never have talked to me because of the way I treated her.
She told me of how her wallet, her computer, her poems, her phone,
even her only copy of her honors thesis- have all been stolen in this
country. That what she does when something happens is to remember she
has her life and her health, that many people around here are losing
those on a daily basis. That at the end of the day we need to keep
things in perspective, and that the person who took her and my stuff,
"his day will come." She told me of how being a coloured person here,
it made sense that the first thing she thought was that I concluded
that she had stolen it. And she told me that, this is what we do when
we grow up and when we have friends- I learn from her and she learns
from me, so that in the future, when a situation like that comes up
again, that I think about my actions, and their intended or
unintended, intentionally or unintentional consequences.

It's important, especially being white when I don't have to deal with
always been suspected, to remember the many privileges that the color
of my skin affords me. Even when my wallet is stolen and I have $9 in
my pocket, I know it will work out.

And I hope from this email that you see I dont want anyone to worry
because I'm safe and okay, but I did want to share with you how I'm
feeling in the moment (and I do feel better when I email everyone). I
will keep you updated about what happens, and I love everyone out
there.

The "Ho Bo" (kidding),

Maital

late breaking news

2006-10-20T03:42:00.000-07:00

a random but beautiful weekend

2006-10-20T03:39:00.000-07:00

October 12 (wow, I still cannot believe it is October)

Salaam to everyone out there! (note: Salaam is actually Arabic, but since there are many Muslims here in Cape Town, particularly amongst the coloured (of mixed descent, but this is a whole nother store) community people greet each other in Arabic sometimes too)...It's been yet another beautiful, challenging, unexpected, creative, thought provoking week here in South Africa.

This past weekend I was in Darling, a small farming town about 45 minutes away from Cape Town, where most of the milk and fruit juices in the area come from. In Darling, as in many of the small rural towns of the Western Cape, still 12 years after the end of apartheid, the racial divisions and segregation remain. In fact, they cleared follow the railroad lines, with one side with its brick houses, and the other side the non-whites houses. Now, also as is characteristic and definitive of South Africa, even the non-whites themselves are segregated, with the coloureds (as I said, they are basically multi-racial) on one side of the road in smaller brick houses, and on the other side of the road the blacks live. The black area in Darling used to look like many other townships around here- shacks with planks of wood and iron for walls and roofs. But today, they are amongst the "fortunate" who have received gov't housing, a one room square house. Becuase the community's live in segregation, there is not much inter-mixing and getting to know one another, and so many stereotypes and prejudices persist, amongst whites and non-whites, amongst blacks and coloureds, and even amongst each other (it never ceases to amaze me how we as humans try to label and box ourselves, and how rather than celebrating difference we exploit and destruct bc of them).

The reason that I was in Darling, though, was exactly because of these divisions, because my friend's theater company- Mothertongue: a collective of women's artists- was putting on a play to start bridging these divides. Essentially, there were no professional actors- only older women in the community- black and coloured women bc they couldn't recruit a white woman from the area. These women interviewed each other and others in the community about their experiences growing up in Darling, what their dreams are for the town, and then composed three skits, which were all performed at Mom Patience's house (a form of site specific theater, where the play takes place not in a theater but in that particular place for a reason): in the first, the "white" housewife (played by Aunt Ivy, a coloured woman who wore a blonde wig and spoke in falsetto, waving her hands around) who is supposed to be "liberal" saying that her made is a "nice African woman" right before she yells at her; the second skit involves two domestic worker- one coloured who did the cooking and the other black who did the cleaning, and showed how there is even a hierarchy amongst the non-whites, with the coloured woman bossing the black woman around; and the third a coloured teacher whose mother-in-law resents because she speaks English as her mothertongue rather than Afrikaans, and whose student comes in asking for money for "tik" - another (yet another) huge problem here in South Africa, aka crystal meth. After the skits the audience members walk around to the different women reciting their stories, their monologues all at different parts around the house. Audiences can also go into the living room where there is a display of art the women made, and then a film installation that I helped them put together about their dreams for Darling. The show ends with the women coming together singing

Strong women of Africa
Women of Africa
We will keep Africa strong.

After spending three days with these women, who welcomed me into their homes and into their lives, the song rang even more true in my ears- these women raised the white families, their own families, struggled against apartheid and yet have seen little results in the past 12 years- their children are still dying, or high on drugs, or being raped, or getting HIV. It is so unfair, and in the face of despair and what I would imagine hopelessness, these women came together to put on a show to share their stories with one another and with the community. In the process they became friends when they otherwise would not have had the occasion to enter each other's homes.

For me, there were so many things that were amazing about the weekend. First, I didn't mention this above- but the show wasn't done in English- it was done in whatever language the women spoke at home, meaning that in the same skit there was Xhosa (the black language of the area), Afrikans (the white and coloured language), and English (also white and coloured). So even though I didn't understand what the women were saying, it still made me think, I still could understand the emotions, the pain. It also was so exciting to be a part of "theater for change" or "community theater"- there's something beautiful about the drama here, that it is truly about social issues, which is what I want to continue making films about, raising awareness, bringing people together. And finally, I only realized this after I left, but at some point, rather than just documenting the plays, I myself became part of the show in a sense, part of the performance. Partly because I actually did help put together the film installation, but mostly because I realized I too am there, a woman artist whose background and skin color have affected my life and even why I was there in Darling that weekend. The director of the show said something similar to me, one of the best complements I could have gotten, that I wasn't intrusive with the camera (imagine though, the plays were put on in this small house with its small rooms where the audience can touch the actors, sometimes even have to move out of their way), and that the women were able to flow and talk about their experiences even with me there. At one point, I was filming one of the women's monologue, no one else had yet come into the room, and she continued speaking from her heart, cryed from her heart, and then when other audience members came in, made them cry, all while I was filming her story, which by the way I had no idea what it was since it was in Africaans (though I do admit I'm able now to understand a good amount of conversation, funny how when I first came to SA I thought of Afrikaans as an ugly, oppressor language and how now I am picking it up since I hear it a lot from my friends).

It was a beautiful weekend, yet another that affirms my desire to be involved creatively in projects like this, where you can see the difference in front of your face, as we all- the women involved in the show- white, black, coloured, South African, American, and Belgian- sat together, some of us crying, sharing how powerful and empowering the experience was for us. I took many photos of the weekend and will post those as well.

After an intense but good time at Darling, I went on a two day break with my friend Jazz, who was also part of the show and played the teacher. We drove up the West Coast into a small town- one that made Darling look like a bustline metropolis- where my mentor Jonathan has a vacation home. Did I mention already it was a small, small town, where the highways becomes gravel for the last 4 kms before the town, where there are no restaurants or even taverns open at night! It was good to remember what quietness sounds like. What I certainly was not expecting was in this quiet town to have yet another learning experience. We met Mx, the man who gave us the key to the house, who lives in the township and does contruction work on Jonathan's house. Within 15 minutes he invited us to his house for a delicious braai (bar-b-que). Mx also dj's apparently because he had an amazing sound system in his little house where he played befuckt (Africaans for really freaking cool) music, dance music, reggae music, music I LOVE. He also showed us his bonsai trees that he grows in his backyard, his birds that he keeps. But it was his music that stood out. In a town where there is NOTHING to do, he throws jolls (parties) every once in a while. He explained that his dream was to open a community center where kids can do sports and they can have parties where he would dj because there is nothing to do in this town...and when there is nothing to do, and people become bored, and children don't have after-school activities, then people turn to drinking, or tik. So really, for him, he loves music and he loves to dj, but he particularly wants to give the kids something to do besides drink from the age of 10. As I sat talking with him, listening to his stories and his dreams, and considered where he grew up and what crap he has had to face in his life, I couldn't help but feel that I was in the presence of a wise man. I told him so and, laughing to himself, he said "I am still learning to be wise."

True, I thought, becoming wise is a life-long journey, and in these moments I have had here in South Africa, I feel I am collecting pieces of wisdom, hoping they will somehow fit together now and especially when I return to life back in the US.

Much love to everyone and I will let you know as soon as I post my pictures!

Maital

back in South Africa

2006-09-19T06:08:00.000-07:00

September 19

Hello to all my loved ones out there! I apologize for not writing since I got back to South Africa. I put together a multi-media movie, with pictures and narration and music, but it is sadly too much for South Africa's Internet to handle, so I will stick to good ol' email updates! Since I last wrote, after premiering my hero book at the International AIDS Conference in Toronto (a smashing success if I may say so) I spent one week in New York City visiting with family and friends- to all of those who I saw, I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to reconnect- I found I came back to South Africa energized, refreshed, inspired, and more confident because of grounding myself, surrounding myself with people that I know and love (as opposed to people here who I have grown to love in a different way, but who still I have only known a few months). What I did notice, whilst back in NYC for only one week is that, within two days my slow, South African stroll quickly turned into the NYC fast-paced walk. As my step quickened, it seemed South Africa grew further and further distant. It was a reminder that, when I return to the US in December, life in the US will pick up quickly, and my time here will be a previous experience. I'm not quite ready for that to happen, as I feel I have so much more to process, to experience, to document- and so when I came back to South Africa- the day after I had to leave a coffeeshop because there was suspicion they would be robbed- I extended my stay for three more months. So, I will now (for real) be returning to the US on December 12! mark your calendars now!

Coming back to South Africa has really been a beautiful experience- I feel so fortunate to have had a few weeks to leave the country, take a step back, see what other people in the field are doing. In many ways, it was comforting to return to this country, to return to the challenge and fun of it all, and part of me actually feels like my time here is just beginning- that it has taken this long to find my place, my space, my friends. I feel so fortunate to have a variety of experiences here, both good and bad in South Africa, that enrich my understanding of this complicated country. This past weekend, for example I went to this huge music and arts festival (they played mostly dance, trance, electronic music) that was in the middle of this beautiful valley in the mountains outside Cape Town- I kid you not, I danced for hours and hours, from when the sun went down to when it rose above the hills, lit the stream and mountains in beautiful shades of orange and purple. I felt like a true hippy. I also could not help but notice that probably 80% of the people there were also other white hippies, with the exception of the rasta guys (who LOVE me and call me their sista), my friend Marcia and her brother (whose mom just moved to Charlotte of all places!), and some others...perhaps it is because of the type of music, or that you had to have a car to get there, or that it cost $20 to get in, or that you had to have the free time to go dancing in the woods for two days...all of these, I am realizing more and more, are luxuries. luxuries that seem to come much easier, or seem to be afforded to people that have my color skin. I will say, also, that this space was very, very safe- we could even leave our wallets behind in the tent! Anyhow, it was a beautiful weekend and, as any other day in South Africa, is filled with complexities, questions, challenges, and somehow a lot of fun.

Speaking of challenges, as you all know I have completed my hero book film. Happy with the film and the response, Jonathan agreed that he didn't need a longer, 50 minute version and will include my piece in his Hero Book promotional packet. So, I thought, I have three months left to do my own thing, now that my fellowship is done.

I was wrong. As it turns out, because the hero book film is about kids who are in high school, and the foundation that funds my fellowship focuses on children 0-8 years old, the hero book film I have been working on for eight months actually doesn't satisfy the requirements of the fellowship at all. Now, I was a bit surprised at all of this, and for a few moments questioned what I have been doing this whole time here, and wondered if my hero book film was for naught. But then, after speaking with my advisors and my mother (boy is she one wise woman), I am rather looking at this is a new challenge, a new opportunity in which I will spend the next three months using photography to focus on my friend Beaty's children, and how they are all affected by HIV, poverty, post-apartheid life...all as Beaty is becoming head of her household. I hope to create a photo essay, audiovisual gallery online when I return to the US- and so am viewing all of this as a way to explore photography and a new way of promoting and distributing my stuff. With all of this, questions come such as:
- How can I continue to challenge (have I used this word 20 times in this email, oh South Africa) how we as Americans view "victims of AIDS in Africa." In film, the person comes alive, and I wonder in photography how to do this as well.
- What is my role here? Am I Maital, documentary filmmaker/photographer or May-tell (how people here pronounce my name), the friend? My (white, film student) friend said "you must step back and try not to get too attached." But why? Who holds the power if I come in to only take photographs, pretend to be a fly on the wall, make analysis from an experience in which I am only and always an outsider for a few moments, and will never fully understand. How can I pretend, then, to tell their story when, is it really for me to tell? This is why, for example, I'd rather tell the story as a narrator, as this is what I saw- with all of my experiences influencing me as a young, white American...so that I am not an unknown fly on the wall, but am a person of privilege, trying to figure out how to get other people of privilege (ie many of us living in the US) to see life for someone else, both the hardships but also the hope, to see the humanity in all of this and that Beaty, for example, is not a "victim" but a "survivor."
- Do I come up with the "story" while I am here in South Africa and take pictures of that or do I take pictures and come up wtih the story when I return to the US? If the latter is the case, then why am I only "documenting" Beaty's life, and not my everyday life here in South Africa, with the friends I'm making in Cape Town. Is that too broad of a story? Is that not enough of "AIDS in Africa" story? Or maybe it is exactly that, seeing how AIDS affects many, but not all...and is still something read in the newspaper but rarely talked about openly and honestly (just as an example, Beaty's community has a 25% HIV prevelance rate and yet she is the only one I know who is open about her status).

These are all some questions I have as I embark on the last three months of my fellowship. In many ways, it feels like I am just starting the fellowship now- that I have built the friendships and trust and now is my time to go with a camera in hand and try and make some sense of something that doesn't fully make sense. I plan on spening all of October up in Knysna with Beaty and the MADaboutART kids, where I will set up the donated mac computer (thanks Duke multi-media project studio, Hine Fellowship, and Mr. Michael Faber!) and teach the kids editing skills (we've already done some filming skills). As it turns out, the national tv station is interested to have the kids make 3 minute film about township life every month that they will air...so of all the questions I have asked, I am most satisfied with this part- to leave something behind, to teach skills that they can use (maybe even find a passion in) far beyond my time here, and mostly to spend time with my friends who I have grown much much closer with (and adorable Timmy who is turning 2 next month!).

So, I am having a wonderful time here. The other day I looked in the mirror and thought to myself, "it would be so much easier just to go home." And yet, this is exactly why I stay.

Happy New Year to everyone out there and if I have done anything to hurt you, please let me know and please forgive me. I feel so blessed in this year to be experiencing what I am, but mostly to have all of you in my life as love and support. Chag Sameach from the Skolli (my friends nicknamed me this, it's Afrikaans for "ghetto girl"), Rasta, working-out (can you believe it, some guy today commented on my arms!) red-headed May-tell.

"I have been living with HIV for three years"

2006-08-21T06:40:00.000-07:00

I sit beside my friend, breathing in, waiting to tell her the truth.
My palms are sweaty, my breath heavier. Inside my stomach I can feel
the knots turning, the fear rising up my throat. What will she say?
What will my parents say? How long will I live to have to face that
fear, the stigma?

These are the questions that ran through my character's mind for my
team's MTV 3-minute film, which you can view online at
http://eu.staying-alive.org/48fest/media.html and click on "Legends"!!
No- to alleviate your fears- I am not HIV positive, but even just
playing a character who discloses her HIV status to her friends was a
powerful and important experience for me to have. Let me explain..

As many of you know, I am now in Toronto attending the International AIDS Conference, premiering the hero book film that I have been working on during my fellowship in South Africa, participating in an MTV 48 hour filmmaking contest, and following/supporting/hanging out with my friends from Nekkies, the township at the bottom of Africa, Beaty and Siphiwe. My first two days back in North America felt surprisingly more like a culture shock than I was expecting, both good and bad. The good- walking around feeling safe, especially at night, seeing my parents and aunt and uncle, the coffee, the free wireless internet…and the bads- remembering the culture of consumerism that exists, remembering how much money there is here in North America and feeling how unfair the world is…My first two days, until my parents got here, I actually spent most of my time in the hotel room!

And then on Saturday I premiered my hero book film at the Pre-Conference Symposium focused on children. I was nervous to show my 15 minute piece and yet eager to see how people would respond, if they would "get it." And I have to say, the premiere in my eyes was a "smashing success!" I actually could not have been happier with how people- most of them working in the field with children- responded to my film and to hero booking in general. As part of the hero booking
resource pack, there is one film by Stan Watts that is an animated, fictional character who goes through hero book making. Then we showed my film which features three kids who have made hero books (from MadAboutArt), what they put in their books and what they said about hero booking. Together, these two films showed both what hero booking
is and how beneficial and powerful a tool it can be for kids. I easily gave out the 25 DVD's of my film and how requests for more! After working on this film for months, overcoming my own fears of telling a story and especially of editing my own piece, it was so so validating and affirming to see how people responded. This was in many ways the purpose of my whole time in South Africa- to make a film for Jonathan about hero booking that he can use at conferences- and I can say it felt very useful and successful for that! We're still putting the final resource pack together but I hope that any and all of you can see my piece when it is all done, email me if you'd like a copy!

Even with this amazing start to the conference, the most powerful experience for me was participating in the MTV 48 hour film festival. Basically, 48 youth delegates from around the world got put into eight teams and in 48 hours had to write, film, and edit a three minute film on an HIV related topic. My team's topic was Myths related to HIV, which is a fun but broad topic. We decided on three main myths we wanted to debunk: 1)Showering after sex does not prevent HIV transmission…this was a direct response to South Africa's deputy president (like VP) Jacob Zuma who had unprotected sex with a young family friend who he knew was HIV positive but thought he was safe because he showered afterwards….2) showing the fact that 50% of new HIV infections occur amongst people under 25…and 3) the myth that HIV = death. For me this third one was the most personal because it feels like one of the most important ways that I have changed since my time in South Africa. In the US, we learn statistics, we learn of the epidemic and what a terrible toll it is taking on the most vulnerable populations. And it is terrible, especially when so much of it can be prevented.

But what we don't hear are the stories of hope, we don't see people living proudly with and despite HIV. For me, befriending and becoming closer and closer with Beaty, I am seeing this. There are so many hardships that she faces, even more than I could put in an email, and yet she remains hopeful, she is an inspiration to her community and to me. So when my team decided that I would be the one in this third myth scene to disclose my positive HIV status to a friend who just found out she too was HIV positive, there were so many issues that came to my mind. First, this could be seen by millions of young people on MTV's website and channels- and some may actually think that I was not acting (ha, it's even funny to put that since my acting was, well, let's just say I won't be needing an agent any time soon) and people may think I am HIV positive. At first I felt sacred and vulnerable about this, about "disclosing" my status. And then I thought- this is what Beaty is doing during my filming, but she is not acting. For me, to be in front of the camera and putting myself in that vulnerable situation was critical. Still, when the camera is off, I know I am not HIV positive, but it was important to taste the fear of the stigma that people face when they disclose.

Anyhow, I could go on and on. All 8 films showed at the MTV studios and though we did not win, I was proud of our film. I was most moved when- during my part when I say, "I am still here and I will be here for a long time," the audience started clapping in support (it was the only time they did this during all 8 films), which I can't say how wonderful that made me feel…not about my acting skills, but about the positive message we are trying to put out, that I want to put out both in that film and in a film I will make- that we can be positive about HIV…regardless of our status, in order to decrease the stigma so that more people get tested, so that more people find support, so that more people will talk about it, get educated, so that less people become infected…

Being in Toronto has been an amazing and affirming experience. I feel myself changing, both in my awareness about HIV and about the world. It reaffirmed my desire to use film to promote positive change (whether about HIV or other passions), and that the future is in short films that can be distributed on the internet, downloaded onto our ipods or phones…It brought me closer to Beaty and Siphiwe who, though they enjoyed the conference, also had a hard time being away from their community and their families. I find I have so much more to say and I'll send pictures as soon as I can, but maybe I'll stop here and send another email update from New York, where I will be August 21-28!!

I send my love and hope I didn't scare anyone too much by the title of my email, though perhaps it is good for each of us to challenge our own beliefs about HIV, who gets it, and why…

quickie update

2006-08-07T11:00:00.000-07:00

August 8, 2006

Hello to everyone! This will be the last email update for a bit because tomorrow I am jumping on an airplane again (I think it's about my 40th in the past year but who's couting?) and head back over to North America!! As we speak (rather as I type) my final cut of the Hero Book film is burning that I will premiere at the Toronto International HIV/AIDS Conference!! I know I just sent updates, so I just wanted to give a few quickies from the last email:

First, Beaty, Siphiwe and I got accepted to the MTV film festival at the conference where we will be put into teams with youth around the world and, in 48 hours, make a film about HIV. According to the producer they tried not to take white Americans/Europeans so I'm very excited to meet the people and to network with MTV! Also, MTV was so excited by Beaty's story (who isn't?) that they want for her to be one of the three people they follow before and during the conference for a 30-minute show on MTV!! Since it was last minute and they coulnd't send a crew, they asked me to do filming for them! Now, there are no gaurantees they'll use my footage, but this past weekend I drove up to Knysna to film specifically for MTV and if they like it 100,000's of people will see my footage!!! Very exciting , as you can tell from my many exclamation points.

Next, and read this if you are in NYC (which so many of my loved ones are)- I am 80% coming to NYC sometime in August 21-28!!!! This is not sure yet, and depends on if I can push my flight back from Canada a few days, but there are things I need to take care of there and mostly see people I love and re-center my soul, so if you are in NYC, hopefully I will be seeing you in a few weeks!!! i can't contain my excitement about that one....

Finally, I got two emails from previous host families that I thought I'd share with everyone...they are pertinent, especially these days....I'll attach them below...

Until then, I miss everyone, I love everyone. Thank you for all your support whether about South Africa or about editing or whatever- it feels great to be where I am, and even if challenging at times, still a privilege and an adventure...

Okay, I know my emails recently have been more updates than moments here, which i will try to change, but the emails, as I feel at times, have to be all over the place...

Maital

This is an email from my Moroccan host father:

Dear Maital
we are so happy to have finally the possibility to communicate with you, to receive knews about your health and your activities. We send you an e-mail, in december 2005, without success... anyway, we are so proud about what you did (Arab-Jewish Dialogue Group, movies and scolarship) and we are sure that, with all you qualities, you are going to surprise the world!
Sakina also began to be too active: she is a member of two associations, Caritas (help to subsahariens migrants) and AMEJ (help to young girls in difficulty) and she has a lot of ideas of activities!
Youssef success in his exams and he will be next year in high school (i found the traduction of "lycée" in your dictionnary!), studying science.
Abdallah stopped breaking glasses: he is still unruly, but so sweet!
I will present my doctoral thesis next year, if God want, but I also began to write poetry and I am sure that you can be a great subject of one of my poetry!
Nezha and her sister Doha send you their salutations.

Maital, you have for ever a great place in our hearts, and you are an example, in all our conversations, of a way to communicate with others cultures, to learn the best of them and to transmit the best of your own culture, and all with a magic smile!
So, please, try to return in Rabat : we miss you so much!
Your moroccan family

and from my Kenyan host sister from 8 years ago:

hey gal i just wanted to holla at you

was up!!

missed you how are you doing it has been solong since
we ever communicated well I have a mobile phobe may be
you can call me on Kenya 0721746542. do you remember
your black sister Leiya everyone is fine hope you
aretoo

Maital

regards Leiya

Updates from the Southern Stars

2006-07-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone out there! I have finally set up a blog so you can look at some photos and past emails! Check it out at http://maitalg.blogspot.com. Since I last wrote there have been many things going on in my life- some happy and others not-so-happy, but all a part of this journey that we call life! Since there are many, let me jump into them, pretty much in bulleted form, but not in any particular order.

First, Ima and Abba, being the wonderful parents that they are came “to the end of the world” to visit me in South Africa! They arrived last Sunday and in the past ten days we have had a great time. We went up Table Mountains, tasted wine and cheese in the winelands, had cocktails as we watched the sun set over the ocean, saw baboons at Cape Point, and drove up the Garden Route to where we are now and where I write this email- Kwandwe Private Safari, a luxury game reserve where we have seen elephants, lions, monkeys, cheetahs (oh my!) and thousands and thousands of breathtaking stars. One of my favorite days was when we stopped at MadAboutArt (where I have been filming in the township, where Beaty lives) and my parents got to meet everyone in person. Abba also brought recording stuff and we recorded some local songs from the kids that we are putting on cds for them! All in all, despite my sometimes moodiness around my parents (I know, hard to believe), we have gotten along great and I have realized- after hearing them process South Africa- that I am the sum of my parents, particularly my mother. It has been truly wonderful having them here, and I know I will remember this trip forever.

Next, it is officially two weeks before Beaty, Siphewe, Jonathan, Larry and I head for the International HIV/AIDS Conference in Toronto! Though I have much work to do, I am so excited to go, particularly to spend time with and film Beaty and Siphewe. Also, I noticed an MTV film contest that will be held for youth (18-26 yr olds) at the conference, and so Beaty, Siphewe, and I applied to write, shoot, and edit a piece at the conference about how HIV affects us, about how we are three different and are affected differently, and yet how we are also all affected and have become friends…will let you know if we are accepted!

Speaking of filming, remember I wrote several months ago that I taught the MadAboutArt kids filmmaking skills? Well, they have a camera and have filmed each other about MadAboutArt and HIV, but they don’t have a way to edit this footage…until now! Thanks to Duke’s Multimedia Project Studio (where I first learned to edit), they are donating not just one, but TWO mac computers to MadAboutArt!! This will be a huge help for the kids, who will be able to edit film, pictures, record songs, and express themselves creatively through multimedia! The only problem now is figuring out how to get the computers from North Carolina to South Africa without paying huge amounts of taxes on them (any ideas?). I hope to get the computers here by September so I can teach them how to use them and edit on them.

Finally, in not so happy news, Dinushika and I broke up last month. Though I am sad about the loss, I also know that this was the best decision, as we are both independent women who need to pursue our own life paths for now. Our relationship taught me so much, opened my eyes, challenged me, made me a thousand times more racially aware, and was filled with love. I think that we will always love each other, and I am learning to let go, to love her as a friend, and especially to see this as a new chapter in my life, one in which I am single, I make life decisions based only on myself, and I continue to walk the path of life where it takes me- as Yoav says, “You gotta go where the road takes you.”

Okay, so those are a few things that have been going on in my life. There is another thing brewing that could potentially be quite exciting, but I will leave that for another email update, when it is more definite (how’s that for suspense!?)

Thank you everyone for your support and love, I feel truly privileged and blessed to be where I am.

With love,
Maital

things I thought about today

2006-07-11T08:13:00.000-07:00

It is officially one month before Beatty, Siphewe, Larry, Jonathan and I head to Toronto for the International AIDS Conference! I am getting excited about it, but also am realizing how little time there actually is for me to finish the ten minute hero book film that I am premiering there (on a panel with the above mentioned).

This past week I am helping another documentary filmmaker who is also making a film for Jonathan- it's has been a great learning experience, filming in a studio, monitoring the sound, talking with the light guy about tips on how to light darker colored skin, making A LOT of coffee (remembering how it feels to wake up at 7 am), picking up lunches, working the camera, and picking up the women who are being interviewed- all HIV positive women from Cape Town's township who, with Jonathan's help, published a book on body maps (another form of narrative therapy), and are now being interviewed every five years to see how their lives are. anyhow, during one of the interviews today- my job at this point was to sit in the interview chair and for the woman to look at me while she was talking- and she was explaining about the scar on her head, from the time she was raped and probably contracted HIV. the line that sticks out of my head, from the interview was "i was fortunate because not all the men raped me, just one man." i sat there, holding m gaze to her as she explained that her mother, an alcoholic, also died of HIV. this woman, unlike most of the others, was willing to show her face. when i drove her to the taxi stand, i told her how brave and strong i think she is , and that because of her courage, other women will also gain strength. she said, "this is why i am doing it." the more people who come out with their status, the more the silence will be broken, the stigma lessened, the support strengthened...yesterday, after the filming with another woman, i talked with her over tea. she was not able to show her face, because she has not disclosed to her boyfriend (of three years) of her status...he does not want to know, and will not sleep with anyone positive. though she said, "we use condoms," when i talked with her, she admitted, "sometimes we use, and sometimes we do not use."

as much as i am learning, as much as i am filming, as much as i am thinking and processing, there is still so much i do not understand. i don't understand how so many people are dying. i don't understand why everyone is not on arv's, when they do have access to them (most people in south africa do have access to free treatment i am learning, though that certainly doesn't mean most people take them). i don't understand why- if people know that hiv is spread through unprotected sex- why they still won't use condoms. i don't understand why, when there is such a high prevalence rate, why there is still stigma, why people still feel alone. i don't understand how people are watching so many around them get thin, weak, and die...

i had a realization today, when the women talked about not being on arv's because their CD4 count is high and so they are healthy...it gave me a form of comparison- and subsequently fear and sadness and many other things- that my friend Beatty is taking ARV's, and so her immune system is considerably weaker...I haven't seen Beatty in a month and I really miss her. I referred to her yesterday as my best friend here in South Africa and it is certainly true. I am very very excited for the Toronto conference. I am also very excited that my parents are coming in ten days!

Okay, so I wanted to share with all of you part of my day today. After work, I took a long walk on the beach, with my (fixed!) ipod, and danced a bit for the ocean...

how penguins helped me overcome my monster

2006-07-02T08:07:00.000-07:00

last time I wrote about my fears, my own monster if you will (using
Hero Book vocab) about my fear of editing. I doubted my own ability,
I doubted myself. And then one morning, about two weeks ago, my
friend Jacqui and I drove to watch the sunrise over Penguin Beach. As
I sat on a rock, overlooking the mountains and the ocean, with
adorable penguins (seriously) chilling beside me, I decided that the
time of fear had come to a close and that I would push through it. In
the words of my friend Beatty, I would not let my monster get the
better of me.

And so I did push through. I put most of the hero book related
footage on the computer, transcribed all of it, organized the clips
into appropriate bins, came up with a basic outline for a hero book
film story, and started doing chapters (funny how I still ask myself
if I am being productive enough, I am my hardest critic it's true).
Basically, I am intertwining four stories from kids at MadAboutArt
(including Beatty) to bring their hero books alive- so I have
interviews with them, their hero books, and most excitingly just in
parts of life where they are talking about hero books (ie when beatty
told me a few days before her mother's funeral that her shame suicide
monster was starting to creep to try to get the better of her).

And it has been an amazing- but challenging- experience to edit and
put the story together, because I can feel that there is something
there in the footage, I can feel a powerful, personal story develop.
My roomates who are film students here in Cape Town (someone in their
school just won an oscar) had interesting comments. They were first
surprised that I was not part of a crew, but doing everything on my
own. Then, they wondered how it felt to get emotionally involved with
the people I'm filming (i guess typical filmmakers don't do this as
much, but that's exactly what I want to be doing so that the audience
also feels a connection, that they too are getting to know Beatty and
her family and her story). but perhaps my favorite quote was from one
white girl who, after seeing only one minute of basically raw footage
said, "South Africa needs a documentary like this."

I am excited to see how the story unfolds.

As I have been editing, I have also been building my own life here in
Cape Town. I have met some amazing women who have become my Cape Town
tour guides. My friend Jacqui does spoken word poetry and used to work
for the tourist industry so knows a lot of what's going on. Most
excitingly, she knows a lot of people in my neighborhood and in her
going-away party (it was all girls per her request), I was blown away
by these beautiful, confident, talented, creative, educated African
women. Just the day before I went to see an exhibit on 18 women who
moved South Africa, only to learn that actually the strikes and
marches that brought down apartheid were started by the women, and
then the men followed. So in the past month I have also loved seeing
another side of South Africa- the complicated tapestry that makes up
this society (wow, I just used tapestry metaphor)- one with more of a
middle ground I would say. And it has been a true privilege for me- I
have sat in on some amazing conversations on race and South Africa.
And it feels great to be surrounded by people of color and to not
register the difference or that it is an unusual happening here in
South Africa or even in the US (though I'm sure they notice my
whiteness). But perhaps a great compliment I received yesterday while
driving to a poetry reading was from Jacqui who said, "You know
Maital, you are one cool white chick."

So, the past month has been balanced between work and play. I am
amazed by what a great time I am having and especially how at home I
feel here. It feels great. And even in moments of intensity- and
they can happen at any time- like when I got my eye brows waxed right
before I came to write this email and the woman who did my brows
opened up to me and told me about her sister who has AIDS but is not
open, and also how she and the other women fought against apartheid,
running from police and jail and keeping strong- that even as I hold
back my tears as she quietly wipes hers away- that I still am so happy
to be in that moment, to be talking about it, listening, learning.
Apartheid is still so fresh, so raw here, the trauma still there that
people talk about it...something that I wish and will push for more of
in the US, because only if we talk about it, even if it's
uncomfortable, can we recognize the pain and injustice, and move
forward. As I have been amazed here- even with apartheid and the
blacks being exploited and used- when they gained power they did not
start a civil war and kill white people (which they could have done
easily seeing how they are so outnumbered)- but they wanted to make a
fair society for everyone. now, as you can tell from previous emails,
South Africa is far from reaching its goal, but at least people are
working together, acknowledging each other, and trying to move
forward.

Rest in Peace, Winnie Jonas

2006-06-08T06:57:00.000-07:00

06-06-06

Hello to everyone out there! As promised, I would like to share the real reason why I spent the past ten days in Knysna, besides the Pink Loerie (see previous email). It was my second time visiting Knysna, and also the second funeral that I attended: last time I was at the funeral of Beatty's last sister (of seven), Jennifer, but on Saturday I attended the funeral of Beatty's mother, Winnie Jonas. The last time that I saw Winnie, she was laying in bed, weak from her several trips back and forth to the hospital because of insulin shock and diabetes. As I said goodbye to her, she grabbed my hand and said, "I love you. God bless you." I had only known Winnie for one month, and it was really only after her death, when I returned for her funeral, that I realized what an amazing woman she was. As one cousin said, this was going to be "The funeral of the year" because WInnie was such a community leader, was a mother to everyone especially to the local street children. During the week, there were services everynight (yes I returned to the township at night and actually did feel safe in their neighborhood) where people would talk about her, ranging from youth who considered her a mother to her fellow ANC (Mandela's African National Congress) women. It was only after this week that I am beginning to see how her individual life story's hardships and triumphs reflect a larger story of South Africa.

Born into an apartheid system, a system where the white minority ruled over the black and colored majority, her dark color skin already determined where she would live and how she would be treated even before her first words were spoken. She grew up in a township near The Heads (the most beautiful part of the city, on the water with crashing waves into mountains). Since the whites wanted this land for themselves, and could just steal it, they did: they bulldozed the township, sending thousands to Nekkies, the township at the top of a steep 6 km hill, the township now where Beatty lives and where MadAboutArt is. When Winnie protested this and other unjust practice, she like thousands of other men and women of color, were arrested and thrown in jail for a few days. At the age of 15, she began working for a wealthy family in town as the house servant (cooking cleaning raising the children). Sometimes she would stay for months at a time at the house, her children still in the township at the top of the hill. But when she started the community soup kitchen, she would come home more often, sometimes walking up the hill twice in one day just to cook the soup and feed the hungry street children. She helped start the community art center, and ensured that her house was always friendly to children. She was loved by everyone. After working for this family for 32 years, and breastfeeding their children, her boss died and left in his will his house to Winnie. Unfortunately, his second wife sold the house and everything, leaving Winnie with only about $150 for her 32 years of work.

But things got better when democracy came and she could vote. Yes, she still lives in the township but for her the freedom to go wherever she wanted was a huge improvement.
Still, there were problems, hardships, and heartaches, most notably from my experience with her and her family: HIV. Living in a country with the highest number of infected people, living in the township with amongst the highest rates of infection, Winnie too, like millions of others, was affected by HIV. She buried three children to AIDS. I noticed a red ribbon on her church dress, a big step in a place with a huge stigma around HIV. Her last living daughter, who is also HIV positive, has now become one of my dear friends here in South Africa for so many reasons, and has been in almost every email update: Beatty (who I now call Mookie, her nickname).

Her funeral was in many ways a celebration of her life. Hundreds of people came to honor her and the work she did in the community. When I saw her body, I sat in the corner, holding back tears until a woman came beside me, put her hand on mine, and said that it's better to let it out than hold it in, and then to be strong for Beatty. I did start crying, out of sadness that this amazing woman had left the world, out of worry of how Beatty was going to face the challenge of being the one in charge now, and especially out of awe and humility at being included, welcomed, and embraced into this community. It's not that I feel sorry for them, it's more than I could not help but think of how unfair and unjust the world can be, and how even though when I come to Nekkies I have seen first-hand death, hunger and disease...thaty still it is such a privilege to be there.

At the funeral service itself, as the men covered her casket with dirt, the women broke into song and dance (the stereotypes are true, their singing is ridiculously beautiful and spiritual for me). It was an amazing experience for me, and I actually got pushed close into the dancing with my video camera- a moment that filmmakers dream of.

For me, what was amazing about the past week, as Beatty prepared for her mother's funeral, was just becoming part of the community. As each day passed, when I picked up her grandfather or ate African food (they were really surprised by this) or just sat around talking with people, I felt less like a guest and more like a good family friend. It was such so amazing to be included in Beatty's life like this, and I do feel that I was able to offer good support- one night I actually brought the much coveted KFC to Beatty at a time when she was really depressed because some members of her family were saying that the house was now theirs, not Beatty's, and that they were going to ask a cousin to come stay- the very same cousin that raped her when she was 13. I sat with her on her bed and we talked, eating biscuits with her year and a half yeard old adorable daughter and her five year old nephew she is now taking care of.

The next day I went with Beatty to get her HIV medication (ARV's) from the hospital in town. I have gone once before and sat out in the car, but this time she asked if I would come in with her (it's a place where people's confidentiality is guarded). As we waited to see the doctor, Beatty started talking with the woman beside her, who was telling me in English about the sideffects of the ARVs. Beatty, who is now on her third month and gets them for free bc she makes less than $500 per month, was telling her that this is normal, and that it would almost be over. She comforted her, told her she has known of her status since 1997 (she was 15 years old) and that positive things can come from it. She shared that her own daughter is negative and that this woman too could have a second child and, if she took the pills, ensure the child would be negative as well. All of this took place in English, which meant that they were actively choosing to let me listen to their conversation, since they could speak their native Xhosa instead (and did at other times also while I sat there). Despite the fact that Beatty has gone through a lot, that she put her eldest sister and mother in the ground within one month, here she was, giving advice and strength to an HIV positive woman like herself. I knew then, that Winnie's spirit and strength have been passed on to my friend Beatty, and I am humbled to be able to experience and to film that.

Well, as usual there is so much more to say, but the bottom line is that the past week was a really good, albeit sad, one for me- to not just be a filmmaker there but to be a supportive friend. I asked Beatty is she's ever had a white friend her age before and she said no. When I asked what she thought, she said, "It is awesome, especially when you stayed in the township." Half-way through my time here in South Africa, I could not have put it better myself- Awesome.

Love to all!

Maital

The Pink Loerie

2006-05-29T07:09:00.000-07:00

The Loerie is a bird found in around the Garden Route of South Africa.

The Pink Loerie is an annual gay pride festival in Knsyna, a small town on the water whose main industry is tourism. Knysna is also the place, if you have been paying attention to details, where I have been filming hero books at MadAboutArt. I came to the Pink Loerie not just for the pride festival, but also to film the high school kids at MadAboutArt march in the pride parade because, as 15 year old Ntombi said, "though we are not gay, we want to show support that gay people also have rights." For me, it is an amazing example that MadAboutArt is successfully fighting to end stigma and discrimination, not just for those living with HIV, but for all people.

It was a great weekend, filled with non-stop dancing, drinking (not too much of course), and meeting people. Since I didn't know anyone before I came, I felt like I was meeting three new people every hour, which was surprisingly fun. As usual, I'd like to share a particular story that feels symbolic of my time at the festival and also of South Africa in general...

It was Friday night at about 12:30 am, the first night of the festival. I had already dancing for about four hours, hopping between bars. (On a side note, one of the best bars (because it played hip hop and dance and had a racially mixed crowd) -Zanzibar- hosted one of SA's hottest dj's, Roger Goode. When I went to tell him what a great set he played, he said, "Yeah, I noticed you rocking out to the Colplay mix- you were my muse!" ). Anyway, but at this time I was already at the all women's club and - as we kids call it these days- the party was bumping. It was one of those moments at a clubwhen the dj seems so on, everyone in the club is on the dance floor, and you just can't help but dance and have fun. Also, whereas the other club was more racially mixed, this place was predominantly white women, with a few exceptions, dancing to classic techno songs.

During one of the songs, I looked out the window to see a group of non-white guys sitting outside the club, looking in at the women dancing and laughing. I was angry at how in a moment I could be reminded that this safe space was an exception for one weekend, and that in reality society is not very accepting.

What I hadn't noticed, however, were two girls amongst the group who were not gawking, but sitting and talking, dancing a little bit. Then, when a Black Eye Peas song came on, they got up to come into the club to dance. But when they got to the door, they were rejected admittance, and I saw them walk back to the benches angry and hurt. You have to understand that they were probably denied because of the boys they were sitting with who were looking on inappropriately, but that also the scene looked like two black women who were denied access into a white club. I'm sure they were only coming in to dance.

I was watching this scene unfold before me. The fact that they were denied entrance did not feel right to me, but I wasn't sure what to do. It was like a "choose your own adventure" story before me. And, as in most cases, there were complicating factors, like the fact that the three white women at the door who were hosting the party were also the women that I was staying with, since I knew no one else at the festival and they offered me accommodation when I met them last week in Cape Town. In some ways, I felt torn- I didn't want to piss off my new friends and I understood why they didn't' let the girls in, but I also was did not feel like dancing with all white people when the only women who were not allowed in were those two non-white women.

So I decided to walk out of the club, walk over to the two girls, say I didn't think it was right that they were not allowed in, and danced with them outside. We started talking and as it turns out, they are from Nekkies- the township where I stayed for two nights and have been filming- and that they knew my friend Beatty.

I couldn't help but think about the irony that this gay party refused admission to two women of color (not bc they were black per se, but it's certainly a big factor in that situation), while the township kids were going to march to support gays in the next day's pride parade.

The women left after a couple of songs and I went back into the club to dance, of course with no trouble. I didn't say anything to the women at the door, perhaps if I had had more courage...

And another quick story: The next day was the pride parade, which I was mostly excited for because the kids at MadAboutArt were marching and I had not seen them for a month. They marched near the front of the parade and danced and were beautiful- great filming time. As they marched, they also had cups for donations for the madAboutArt Center. I watched as my friend Ntombi when to get donations from people. When she was unsuccessful, I gave her advice to not just shake the cup but to also say "Excuse me would you like to support the MadAboutArt center?" (yes, I was giving tips on how to ask for money)...I watched as she tried to do this, still no one giving money. My heart sank at one point as I saw a woman walk away quickly from her, holding her purse with a scared look as she refused to make eye contact. I wanted to go up and comfort Ntombi at the way the woman brushed by her, but then noticed that Ntombi had gone on smiling, not horrified like I was, almost as if she hadn't noticed or cared. It was only then that I realized it was probably not the first time she got that look from a white person, scared and quickly brushing by, and that it was in fact part of her reality. No, it was not her first time nor would it be my last, but it was my first time witnessing someone disregard and be scared of my friend.

So those are two memories that stuck out from the festival. It reminded me again that the intersection of race, gender, sexual orientation, and socio-economic is a complicated one. Despite these moments when racism stared me in the face, when I felt ashamed to be in the same grouping as the white women, it was still a great weekend and I still had such a great time. At one point, while sipping a beer on a porch I looked up and saw the wooden shacks of Nekkies at the top of the hill. They almost looked picturesque and i'm sure most people did not even think twice about them or what goes on inside. Still, for me, my time in South Africa, my time in Knysna and at this pride festival have been amazing because I am now feeling that I'm looking at situations with new eyes, with new experiences, with a new perspective.

Okay, so that for me was my pride festival. I am staying in Kynsna for another week , the purpose of which I will explain in my next email.

Miss you all!
Maital

My Train Ride

2006-05-22T00:35:00.000-07:00

Molo to everyone out there!

There are moments here in South Africa where life goes on as normal.
I walk to the beach almost every day, sometimes I sit and read a few
chapters of whatever book I'm reading (okay I'll admit it: I just
finished the Da Vanci code, and am now re-reading one of my favorites,
The Tipping Point). I go to the internet café, sit in coffee shops,
play with Jonathan's kids, jewelry shop in the fishing town beside us,
and I hike up (actually I lost the path and definitely at one point
thought in my head: though I can see the road below, if I fell and
twisted an ankle noone would be able to hear me and I would be stuck
up here for days…). In any case, it is easy for me to create a
comfortable routine where I work a bit in the morning, go into town
(Fish Hoek, not Cape Town), and then do most of my work at night,
since I can't leave the house after dark, about 7 pm.

Sometimes it could feel like any day in California, with a beautiful
beach and mountains around me. In fact on my way to the internet
cafe, I walked on the beach with the mountains above and a rainbow
over the ocean. Sometimes, I could almost forget I am in South
Africa, where those who look like me are, actually, the minority. But
then, there are those moments, when I am almost smacked in the face
with reality—that the majority of the population is black, that the
majority of the population lives in poverty, that there are more
people infected with HIV here than anywhere else in the world. When I
was working in the township Nekkies, you can be sure that this reality
was an everyday reality of what I was seeing, smelling, feeling,
tasting, experiencing. But now that I'm in Cape Town, where I can
live as most white South Africans do, these moments now come in
spurts, usually unexpected. The first one I had in this country was
in the taxi ride from the airport when I saw my first township. (I
just recently learned that the population of Cape Town's townships
actually exceed the population of Cape Town itself.) And sometimes,
as in what happened today, these reality checks come from just
stepping on a train…

I was visiting friends in Observatory - the cool, artsy, touristy, and
at times sketchy neighborhood of Cape Town. The Robertson Scholars
who are three years younger than me are here for two months, doing
internships and living in townships (see I'm certainly not the only
one). I went with them to Robben Island and because it was dark when
we got home, stayed overnight there to take the train the next day.
So today, I bought one first class ticket back to Fish Hoek. First
class and not third class because, well, I'm white and that's what I
was instructed to do.

But as the train pulled into the station, and as I scanned the cars, I
noticed there were only third class cars (the ones that the Robertson
group leader told them not to take). I knew there was nothing I could
do about it, and told myself it would be a good experience in any
case, so I put on my "I've done this a thousand times before" face and
boarded the car.

Immediately, in a blink of an eye, a scan of the car, it was painfully
obvious that no matter how confident I may have looked, I stuck out
like a soar thumb- the only white person in the car. I quickly
grabbed an open seat, and kept my eyes down, not making any eye
contact. Even though it was the middle of the day, I still thought,
"well if I get mugged at least I don't have my video camera on me."
Even though the car was full, I still was scared for my own safety.
All because of what I was told, because of my perceptions, because
everyone else in the car was, it's painful but true to say, not white.
Had I entered the car and everyone was the same color skin as me, had
their backpacks or fanny packs, their over-the-shoulder purses, I
highly doubt any of the previous thoughts would have crossed my mind.

So I kept my eyes down for a while, my hand always on my bag and
coming to terms with the idea that if I was mugged I would hand over
everything quickly, no heroics for this girl. At some points it felt
like this was just another subway car from New York City, but the fear
in my head, my tense body, the fact that I was very conscious of my
safety and my bag…this feeling did not last for very long.

What did last a long time was the train ride. I didn't feel it was a
good idea to do anything else conspicuous and so decided against
reading my book on the 45 minute ride. I wanted to be aware of
everything around me, even as I tried not to make eye contact.

After about five or ten minutes, I noticed no one immediately jumped
on me, an obvious tourist with a North Face jacke,t and a cell phone,
and a backpack with a camera inside it. It was only then that I
really picked up my head and actually looked at the people in the car
with me. In front of me, there were three beautiful little girls,
about five or six years old, dressed in church clothes, laughing with
each other in their own world. There were several mothers with their
babies. To my right were colored men speaking Afrikaans and making
jokes, part of me feeling like they were probably talking about me,
though I don't think they were. To my left was a good looking couple,
a businessman. Suddenly, when I actually looked at the faces of the
people in the car, and not just the color of their skin, they didn't
seem so scary, and- this time similar to NYC subway riders- were in
their own world. In reality, the person most conscious of my presence
was me.

The rest of the car was mostly uneventful. At one point, because two
of the colored men guessed correctly that I was going to Fish Hoek, I
found myself laughing during the train ride.

Moments like this in South Africa, even more so than filming about
HIV, that are the most challenging. Whilst filming I can try to find
someone else to blame for the HIV epidemic, at this moment on my train
ride home, there was noone to challenge but myself. Why, when walking
into a car filled with black and colored people, did I instantly,
almost instinctively tense up and feel my security was threatened?
And why was I surprised when I actually looked at the people, it was
any other subway car: some were sketchy but most were just minding
their own business.

I think I, like most of us out there, likes to believe that we are not
racist, that we treat people based on their character rather than the
color of skin. In South Africa, there is just no escaping my own
racism. This reality makes me feel both angry and vulnerable. Many
times, I even feel justified by my racism- especially when it comes to
issues of personal safety (let me stress again to make my grandmother
feel better that I am being extra safe on everything), which of course
also makes me confused.

But as I stepped of the train, my white skin never feeling quite as
pale, I wondered if perhaps this was what it felt to be a racial
minority in the US, to feel like you stand out everywhere you go.
Before the train pulled away, as I looked at the familiar Fish Hoek,
with its internet café and restaurants, I knew that this was fully
true. For one, I know I can always escape to a white space fairly
quickly, be comforted again to be surrounded by people who look like I
do. But second, and most importantly, is the reality that what
usually is associated with my white skin are privileges, things that
make my road in life that much easier (but not as easy if I were a
white male). In other words, me feeling like an outsider is just
that, a feeling, a fear a discomfort. But for those who are
not-white, their skin color does not just bring discomfort, it has
very real consequences. There are too many statistics of inequity to
list here, so I will stick with just one that I found while doing
research yesterday: 13% of blacks are infected while only 0.6% of
whites are. I couldn't help but wonder if, of the people sitting on
the train today, if it was I who should be worried about my security
and well-being.

Okay, so these emails are always hard to write because I am trying to
describe not just an event but how that event challenges me and
inevitably leaves me vulnerable: it's not the easiest thing to admit
that I am racist over a mass email, but alas, it is impossible to
spend time in this country and still pretend to be color blind.

Love to all!

Maital

p.s. I just got off the phone with Beatty and good news- she and one
other at MADaboutArt have received a scholarship to attend the
International AIDS Conference where my film will premiere!

Maital's Four(teen) Questions

2006-04-18T00:37:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone out there! I have officially been here in South
Africa for seven weeks, hard to believe! Though it has been amongst
the most intense experience that I have had abroad, it has also gone
by so far the quickest. Probably because it will be the longest I
will be gone, and so a few weeks ago I switched from thinking about
the length of time that I would be away from loved ones, I started to
think of this time here as an absolute privilege- I am constantly
processing, thinking, being challenged, and seeing both beautiful and
unfair parts of this country and really of the world.

As many of you know, this past week we Jews around the world observe
Passover, when we celebrate freedom- so much so that we eat matzah not
for one night but for seven! I am always amazed at how millions of
Jews gather around their tables, search for the afikoman, and
celebrate freedom, and that here I was thousands of miles away from
home but able to sing along. It was of course sad to be away from my
family, from our singing and my Ima's cooking, from our questions,
spilling wine over the table and each other. As if we Jews don't ask
enough questions as it is (if you know my mother and her sisters on a
tour you'd know exactly what I was talking about), Passover encourages
us to ask even more. Two stuck out for me this year: "Why is this
night different from all other nights?" And when I sat with my friend
Hayden's family at the Seder, I couldn't help but reflect on how
different this night, this year has been for me. And though I don't
wish to spend many holidays away from my family, in a way it was very
interesting to be away from anyone that I have known for more than
seven weeks, to have a chance to process both another world and-
because when I am outside of my comfort zone it is inevitable to
compare it with own previous comfort zone- to think of my own world.
On this seder night, I am beginning to see my surroundings in a new
way, to put a human face to a faceless virus and everything that comes
with that.

The second question that stuck out in my head this year, well I guess
it's actually not a question but a statement that leads to many of my
own questions: "During Passover we celebrate our freedom and vow that
we are not free unless everyone is free." And I wonder:

Do I understand anymore what freedom means, what it looks like?

Are my new friends in the township truly free? Yes, they have the
right to vote, but do they have the freedom to pursue what they want
in life? Do they have the freedom to access treatment? Do they have
the freedom to be educated for free, a right the UN has declared every
child must have? Yes apartheid is over and they certainly have more
freedoms (just as a small example when we went with Beaty to my
favorite spot on the water she said how blacks were not allowed to go
there…hard to imagine that was in the early nineties). But, why are
they still living in shacks, why is there still such an obvious divide
(it would be so easy by the way for me to stay in only white spaces,
except of course for the workers)? I am only now beginning to be able
to ask these questions, and yet the more I see, the less I understand,
the more questions I have…

I can't help but compare my own freedoms, as I said my own privilege
of being able to come here to South Africa and type these questions on
my mac laptop. But still, am I truly free, am I free to marry the
person of my choice? As a woman, am I free to walk alone after dark –
whether here in South Africa or in North Carolina?

Which brings me to another question, one that I have been asked
recently- What do I think of the recent news about the woman who was
raped at Duke (see previous email or google Duke lacrosse rape) and
how the DNA tests from the lacrosse players don't match up? (prepare
for a small rant that will hopefully make sense)…Now, I've only been
able to follow from readings online and haven't been there on campus
to get a better sense, but in my opinion a DNA match up would have
helped to prove guilt but it certainly doesn't preclude innocence, I
read a Duke student's editorial today- he is a white male- who was
trying to say that the prejudice that exists in the case of the rape
is against not the woman who has raped but the white lacrosse players,
that their reputations have been damaged. To me, that mentality is
ridiculous and dangerous. (A sidenote: this echoed in my head when I
spoke with an elderly white woman here who said how after apartheid it
has been much harder for whites to get into college, this being only
two days after I came from the townships where college is still an
almost unreachable dream)….But to this boy and also to this woman, I
want to say: bullshit and please open your eyes. Why would a woman
put herself through any of this if it were not true? As we can see
from the response at Duke, when a woman who accuses a man of rape she
herself must face as much hatred and judgment placed on her than on
the man, as if because she is an exotic dancer (in order, again, to
pay for college tuition and two children) that she had it coming, that
she deserved any of this? In a culture where 1 in 4 (the same rate of
HIV infection in the township by the way) women is sexually assaulted-
why are we so quick to point fingers at the victim when the reality is
that there is no benefit on her to make up a story. Now, I'm not
saying to throw any of the players in jail without a fair trial (which
I'm sure daddy will pay for the best lawyer…is that in it of itself
not a form of privilege)- but from what I can tell, this case has
opened a lot of wounds for women on campus, particularly from women of
color, on their past experiences, moments when their/our freedoms were
taken away by force, considered less than human, dehumanized and
disempowered. And to the women who have become survivors, inspired
others, had the courage to speak out and say, no it is not my fault
and I will speak out against this so that others don't have to face
what I have faced….to then continue to be silenced by people who are
too caught up defending themselves than looking at the deeper problem
(like this white male who wrote the article and said it should have
just been taken as a joke when a lacrosse player wrote in an email
that he wanted to invite strippers to his room and skin them)…I'm not
sure where I am going with this, it is hard to put into words, so I
will end with another question

And the last questions: Why are those who say, This is Not Male
Privilege, why are they all men? And why are those who say, This is
Not White Privilege, why are they all white? Why do we refuse to
listen to the women of color who say, "This is a case of White Male
and Economic Privilege, and it is not the only case as I have
experienced sexual assault also." To be blind to who holds the power
in these situations is to blind to so many people's reality… and I am
one white person who is trying hard, especially here in south Africa,
to open my eyes.

So, that was again a rant and I'm sorry, but I just had to get that
off my chest. There are many more examples of freedom, or lack
thereof, that come to mind, but these are the main ones I thought
about at the Seder…as an optimist and an idealist, it is sometimes
hard to confront all of the moments of inequity, ignorance,
unfairness, and un-freedomness (yes I just made that up) and to still
be hopeful about the world…but perhaps as in the Passover story, the
Jews had to wander the desert for forty years before they reached
freedom and yet there were still moments of hope, even enlightenment
(ie the Torah), and so perhaps we are still in those forty years in
some ways, and rather than Moses, it is only we who can lead one
another towards freedom…

Love to all,

Maital

p.s.I am returning this weekend to my friend Beaty's sister's funeral
with Melanie…thank you everyone for your kind words and thoughts, will
write more about that later!

Township Life on the Weekend

2006-04-08T00:39:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone! I feel like I'm sending more updates these days, but it's because my time here with the kids at MadAboutArt has been so full and thought-provoking that I can't help but put thoughts down on "paper." Plus, it's my last week here so I want to capture my feelings before I leave, and head back to the less intense life of Cape Town (less intense not because of the location but because I don't go into a township everyday).

Before I go into the past weekend, I wanted to share some things I've thought about being here with a camera. At some points, it feels like taking out a camera is the exact opposite of my instinct as a compassionate human being. When we went to take out dying Beatty's sister from the hospital, I thought it would be a good time to film. But how do you ask someone to film such personal and private moments. Excuse me, can I film you dying? There are other moments, like when we were sitting around at night talking, and Beattie's cousin (whose mother is the one dying), with an odd smile in her face said as she punched her chest and said, I want someone to kill me, but I don't want to kill myself because people will think I did it over a boyfriend. Some of the most powerful conversations, including positive ones, have been too much to put on film...

And yet, yesterday was one of my favorite days of filming. Mostly because the MadAboutArt kids are really getting into their filming process and ask wonderful questions and have great vision. I think sometime we poo-poo kids and forget how incredibly talented and mature they can be, if we know how to make it fun and interesting. But also, Beatty opened up to me on film, talking about incredibly personal information from her past and how she came to be empowered today. She spoke of the desire for death when she found out her positive HIV status, but then realizing that it also could be a new life for her, where she can teach others. She spoke of breastfeeding her newborn child but also discovering she was HIV negative, and how her adorable child is her hope in life, what keeps her strong. Finally, though she is one of the leaders of the center, she has not fully disclosed her status to her family. As we spoke about her ARV's, her cousin came to sit beside her. Beatty turned to her and asked if she knew what we were speaking of and then turned to me to say that she had not disclosed to her cousin yet. There, before my eyes, I saw her tell her cousin and then had tears in my eyes as her cousin said she and her family loved her and just wanted to support her. It was an incredibly powerful moment, and one that I think could only have happened after building trust with Beatty and the kids at MadAboutArt.

In any case, let me talk about this past weekend which Melanie and I spent in Nekkies with my friend Beatty. Despite the fact that her mother went to the hospital twice that week because of insulin shock and that her sister is dying of AIDS and cancer (which by the way she only learned of and got sick from one month ago), they still wanted to host us so that we could REALLY experience township life. And in many ways, we did, but in many ways we always had the car to escape into the town...and besides, it is not our reality...Though even after two days we were totally drained- though I can go into work there everyday (at least for three weeks) I couldn't stay there for more than a couple of nights...

So on Friday we sat at Beatty's house, which from the outside looks like a wooden shack, just like the other wooden shacks that characterize most townships. Beatty's mother, still weak from the previous week, spoke with us about the community, how many things have gotten worse since the end of apartheid (crime for example) while others have gotten better..she spoke of how she started a community soup kitchen that continues today because kids were eating out of the garbage dump...and finally ended with a story about the many kids that we see everyday and who hang around the center and at their house...this one, Pinky she's called, was only a small child, probably two, when her father murdered her mother, while her mother was still holding her, blood dripping on little Pinky who didn't know what was going on. Such is the start of our intense weekend.

After eating dinner (they had sausage and white bread while Melanie had hummus and cheese on bread we got from the grocery store in town earlier) they showed us when the township truly comes alive- weekend nights after people have been paid and go have a few drinks at the taverns here. This is not something advisable usually for white people to do, but because we had a group of them who were with us and because Nekkies is a smaller, somewhat safer township, we decided to go for it. Anyways, this is where they live and what they do, and despite the confused looks from everyone in the tavern (I think they could tell we weren't from there, couldn't imagine how), we had a nice time, listened to the same five songs on the jukebox, and had a few good dances. We got home at about 130, hung out for a bit, and went to bed...I say went to bed rather than sleep because between the mildew-urine smell of the sheets and the dogs barking outside I didn't really sleep much.

The next morning we got ready for the main event of the day- the bar-be-que! This was after, though, we learned that Beatty's cousin and friends were attacked by people at night by bricks and Melanie patching up one of their eyes (still they swear it is a safe place, as long as you don't make enemies). At the bar-be-que,i t was great just to hang out with our friends, be relaxed together, eat good food, sit next to a fire, and share some laughs and dancing (I contributed the only thing I know how to cook...s'mores). One of the best parts was that I got to film, with permission, a traditional ceremony that was happening in a neighbor's house, which was a lot of dancing and chanting- really a priviliege to see. That night we went out to the tavern again, danced more, and went to bed...It's hard to remember what we did the next day, it dragged and we left at about 5.

All I could do when I got home, after seeing how they live, was take a shower and fall asleep under my down comforter.

A Phone Call

2006-04-08T00:38:00.000-07:00

hello to everyone, today marked the end of our three weeks at MadAboutArt in the township Nekkies- it was a truly amazing, intense, inspiring, and hard experience, as i'm sure you could tell from some of the emails. this past week has particularly felt special, as it truly feels like we are now friends...indeed, in this week after we spent the wekend, i got a beautiful letter from one of the students (ill quote it later), i got to see them filming in action their own film and get so into it (my
favorite part), there was a parents evening where they gave hero awards to their parents and a certificate to melanie and me, they opened up to us. i find myself feeling especially close to beatty, who i have written about in probably every email, and we were talking one day and realized that i am the first white person her age she has ever hung out with. and, we realized as she translated "picking a wedgie" for me in her language (letting the person out of jail in Xhosa if you're interested), that despite our differences, we all get underwear stuck up our butts!

but still, lest i not get too feeling good about life, yesterday when we said goobye, there was a feeling of dread, as melanie visited Beatty's sister Jennifer in the hospital and said that she wasn't doing too well. And today, 20 minutes ago as I sit in the backpackers on my way to Cape Town, overlooking the ocean, she calls my phone (the first time she has), and instead of summarizing the conversation perhaps i should let her/me/it speak for itself...

beaty: Hello, Maital. It's Beaty. I just wanted to let you know that
my sister has died.
Maital: Yes, I heard this morning and tried to call. I am so sorry,
Melanie and I are both thinking of you.
Beaty: Yes, she called us last night to come over, and Olivia (her
daughter), Ebby (her nephew) and I (her sister) went. She was in such
pain. When we got there, she was screaming. But when she saw us she
held it back and just held my hand. SHe even gave us a smile before
she died.
Maital: I am so sorry. (what do you say in situations like these).
At least she is no longer in pain. when is the funeral?
Beaty: It is next Saturday. If we can't afford to pay I will ask
Larry to borrow money from him,because he said he would and he can
take it from my money every week.
Maital; How much does it cost?
Beaty: I don't know , I find out Monday. A lot of people came to the
house today and I didn't konw what to do. It's sad to think she'll
never be here again, I just keep looking at the photos. I don't konw
if you have a sister, but now I realize I am alone (her other seven
siblings have all died, she is the only one left). I'm trying to be
strong but I feel like every in falling to pieces inside. At least I
have the photos.
Maital: And you will always have the memories, and you have her
strength. How is Olivia doing?
B: She's pretty strong, she's here. But Ebby is not, we don't know
where he is and I am worried because when she died he said Two Gone,
One To Go (for those reading that don't know yet, his mother died,
now his aunt, and now Beattyis the only one left, but she too must
battle HIV).
M: And how is your mother?
B: She is strong.
M: And Timmy (Beatty's daughter whom I absolutely adore).
B: She cried hard all yesterday and mom said she woke up in the middle
of the night, crying and crying. And then, at1:30am when my sister
passed, she fell asleep. I only hope I can sleep tonight. And
Olivia.
M: I heard you are wearing red ribbons to the funeral?
B: Yes, because although she died from cancer, it (AIDS) was still a
part, and we want our family to know that it will stop. Also, I want
to film it, to borrow Larry's camera, and I will send you the tape.
But I just wanted to call to hear your voice, and to tell you thank
you for being here and driving us to the hospital.
M: Well, I feel like I should be thanking you. And if it would be
okay we would love to come to the funeral.
B; I just can't believe it. She was in such pain when she came. Her
body already started to smell. Wait, Olivia wants to say hello

(I'm a bit surprised)

Olivia: Hello
Maital; HI olivia how are you?
O: I'm fine thanks, how are you.
M: I'm really sorry about your mother, She was a beautiful woman and
strong like you. We are thinking of you.
O; THank you, bye.

Beaty: Okay Maital I just wanted to hear your voice and say thank you.
M: Okay Beaty, I will call later.

I got off the phone, and felt that I had to come and share this with all of you. I came to South Africa only six weeks ago and after not feeling culture shock the first three weeks, I have now made friends and become close with young adults my age who come from a very different place. 28 million people infected by HIV in Sub-saharan Africa has now become, to me, my friend's family.

My Shining Moment

2006-04-03T00:41:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! I love the responses to these emails and find that both writing them and also the responses I get help me to process, to feel supported and comforted...so please keep responding, it helps me a lot!

So this past weekend I spent in the township, Nekkies. It was good. It was very intense. And I will write about it sometime soon and what we did and all that happened (in two days it seemed a lot happened, but then again it seemed pretty typical to them, so who knows)..you'll just have to wait in suspense until I find the right words to describe the weekend...for now, I want to write about what happened today, because in a time when I have been here for two weeks, I have truly felt the power of what MadAboutArt does here, how it empowers these kids, how- despite all of their hardships that are too great to even list or understand fully- they have a lot to teach me, to teach the world.

Before I get there, a bit of background. I'm living with the founder of MadAboutArt, a white British man named Larry whose vision in life is to teach kids about HIV and empower them to make their own life choices. Last night, as we watched the sunset from his back porch in Plettenberg Bay, he was explaining the name: MadAboutArt. The Mad part actually stands for Making A Difference because for him, it's not just about making art. It's about motivating these kids that they can Make A Difference with their art, that they have some purpose for it and for their lives, to help others. He explains how he hates the world victim..(think how many times you've heard the phrase victims of HIV). It disempowers the kid, leaves them helpless. Instead, he views them as survivors, who can be made stronger and can help others who may be in the same situation. Indeed, one of the things that stand out about my time are my conversations with these kids, with shacks in the background, that they want to help other kids around the world. My friend said what she loves about Nekkies is that despite having little, they always share what little they have- her family has run a soup kitchen for the kids for years now. Another boy, Richet, told me today that he wants to work to give people living with HIV a voice. They are amazing kids, and I continue to be amazed...particularly today...

So, today the kids started to shoot a film that they are creating. On Friday we had our first brainstorming meeting, where we discussed several things. One, what was the value of filming, and what do we hope people can get out of it. They answered they can tell others' their own stories, with the hope that they - particularly youth in a similar situation- can learn from them. Second, we decided on the story- one that each of them have taken- coming from Nekkies and how MadAboutArt has changed their lives and empowered them, particularly through the Rainbow of Hope (that went to London), Hero Booking, and learning about and then teaching other kids about HIV. Finally the film will end for their hopes for the future, entitled Looking Forward to the Future (taken from Andhile's hero book title) that shows both visions for themselves and MadAboutArt. We broke into crews who is each in charge of one day of filming, with a director, cameraperson, lighting/sound person, note taker, technician, and 'actors.' Today we went out to the community, interviewed each other...and it put a huge smile on my face to see them get so into it, to see Kenneth climbing up on trees to get a good image.

After a long day of filming in the sun, we sat in the shade of a tree beside their high school (by the way the reason we have time to shoot is that they are on a one week holiday, and yet they still want to keep learning and coming to MadAboutArt), and I asked if they were scared about stigma or discrimination when speaking out about HIV. They all quickly shook their heads no, that the only way to breakdown that discrimination is to talk about it, to teach others. What's even more profound to me is that they have taken this lesson and applied it to the annual gay pride festival. Though they are not gay, and though they faced a lot of criticism from the community and their families, they decided last year to march in support of gays.

It is an amazing concept, one that shows an incredible depth of thinking, of empathy, of understanding- to say, Yes I Understand Stigma and Discrimination and I will Support Others, Not My Own Group, Fight Against It..I Will Stand Beside Them as an Ally. From the work I have done with various groups, all too often I am so surprised at the inability of one group who has been discriminated against to empathize with another group. All too often I have witness a "who has suffered more" contest. For these kids, though, anyone's suffering is their suffering. Anyone's discrimination is everyone's. It seems appropriate that Passover is coming up when we Jews proclaim, No one is free until we are all free...These kids are putting those words into action.

And as I sat there, underneath the tree, thinking about how much I admire them, how much I appreciate their honesty and embracing me, allowing me to see into their lives...I decided to reveal a part of myself I had not yet to the kids (but did to my friend that I write about in emails)...I came out to them. What's funny about writing this in an email now is that it feels almost scarier than actually saying it to them, but I suppose if I feel the right to reveal extremely personal bits about their life then I should be gutsy enough to do it for my own life (and anyway, I assume if you are reading this then you already know!)...In anycase, I told them how amazing I thought their work was, that I wanted to share a part of my own life also, and some of the monsters (feelings of shame, guilt, secrecy) that I had to overcome in my own life. I showed them a picture of my beautiful girlfriend and said, "You are able to show support when even people in the United States are not...That I too, because I love someone who is a woman and whose skin is as dark as theirs...That I too have felt stigma and discrimination, and know that it can be scary and vulnerable...but that it must, for all of our sake, be fought against." Suddenly, they started clapping.

If only the world were as empathetic, open-minded, and driven towards tikkun olam (repairing the world) as these kids in Nekkies. We have a lot to learn from them.

This was one of my most hopeful moments here in South Africa, when if I turn the corner, I am again faced with the despair that many of the people face...but I promised hopefulness and here it is, effecting me in a way I could not have expected.

The only sin was the color of my skin

2006-03-28T09:37:00.000-08:00

It can be very intense here at times, and everyday seems to have its own moment of despair, sadness, silence, but also hope. Also, many of you wondered how I am "dealing." Yes, seeing the effects of poverty and HIV is having the residents of the townships is hard; seeing their commitment to community, to education, and to each other is inspiring..but in many ways I wonder, really what do I have to deal with? In truth, I leave everyday at 5:30 to go back to a city where everyone looks like me and lives in big houses. In two weeks I will be leaving the township and heading back again to Cape Town. And in seven months I will leave South Africa behind as I start another exciting chapter in life in the US...I can escape, I can turn a blind eye, I can live in my little bubble...so really, who is it that has to "deal?"

But I wanted to balance the previous email with one that is more uplifting. Again, with just the reality that I am facing and processing, there is something that I want to get off my chest first before I get to some of the good moments at MadAboutArt. As you can tell, I have been processing a lot about inequities surrounding race, gender, sexuality, economics...and this one newsstory symbolizes in many ways why I am angry and saddened by the world:

WHO: A black college student. Female. Mother of 2 children. Is an exotic dancer in order to make ends meet.
WHAT: Raped. Sodomized. Almost Strangled to Death. Beaten. Called Racial Slurs throughout.
HOW: By a gang of three white men.
WHEN: Two weeks ago.
WHY: Is there an answer to why such evil can happen? I have found none.
WHERE: Though I am in South Africa and there are probably hundreds such stories here, this particular one is not from South Africa. It is from my own home, Duke University, only one block away from where I lived last year.

There is so much to say about this story and why I write it in my South Africa Updates. And yet there are no words. I am in South Africa, less than fifteen years after the end of apartheid, where so much is still divided between race and economic status..and lest I forget that South Africa is not an exception to race relations, just one that is a bit more obvious and talked about. In fact, I am reading a book now, Country of My Skull, about the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, in which one of the black victims says, "My only sin was the color of my skin." And as the story above shows at Duke University- one of the top five universities of the US- that, very sadly, this woman's only sin was the color of her skin and the only way she could feed her children was to objectify her body for men. (Imagine, as my best friend said, if the tables were turned and a white Duke student was victimized by three Durham black men...which also brings me to another point that the one lacrosse team member whose DNA was not taken was black...perhaps one of the first times his skin color worked for him- he didn't match the profile)... Of all that I have seen here, I don't know which story is worse. And this story I HAVE to deal with, I cannot escape, it happened in our backyard.

OK- back to South Africa. I have loved getting to know the kids here. My favorite moments have been when we get to hang out on a more individual level a couple kids at a time. Perhaps my favorite afternoon so far has been this past Saturday, when Melanie, Siphewe, Omthombi, Ebby, and I left the township towards for a meeting on the water. Though it's a mere ten minute ride, it feels like a world apart (one which by the way I am much more used to) where white tourists come and have coffee overlooking one of the most beautiful sights of South Africa I have seen yet- think waves crashing on rocks of the rising mountains. But what made this my favorite afternoon was that the five of us brainstormed how I can teach film skills to the rest of the kids, and decided that they would actually make their own documentary about how MadAboutArt has changed their lives, educated them about HIV, and empowered them to teach others. For me, it is so exciting that I will be able to give them skills that will last way beyond my stay, and I can tell they are excited to learn. We start next week and I think it will be one of the true highlights of my experience here in South Africa.

Finally, I want to paint a picture of a moment for me yesterday morning: my friend (the same from last email)'s mom who is diabetic had dangerously low blood sugar and so Melanie (who is a trained paramedic) and I went to go see what we could do to help. As we waited for the ambulance to come- it took two calls, by the way, and incidentally they only came after Melanie called- I sat in the living room, listening to the painful cries of the mother in the other room. My friend came out, tears in her eyes, and said it was just all too much for her. That her monster (vocab taken from the hero book she made) was starting to overpower her, that she would maybe resign from MadAboutArt to help her family. Also from the Hero Book is the chapter that her mother is her hero, a strong woman who cares for her family and the community. I try to comfort her by saying that I know her mother has passed on her strength to her. No, she responds, her mom is the glue that holds the family together. My friend's year and a half year old adorable daughter can sense that something is not right in the house and holds on to her mother's legs. As we sit in the dark living room- decorated with photos, some African crafts, and a hanging that says "Hard Life"- still waiting for the ambulance, a commercial comes on the TV. It is for a gospel cd and at the end of the commercial the announcer says, "With Gospel, everything is okay." Still hearing the pained breathing of the mother, seeing the helpless face of my friend, and thinking about how this is just one problem from a list of dozens that this family has and will face. I cannot help but wonder if, really, it is gospel music that will make everything okay for my friends.

Looking for words for today

2006-03-23T09:42:00.000-08:00

I pride myself in my ability to connect with people, to make them comfortable, to make them happy, to talk with them across divides of nationality, language, race, religion, gender, sexuality.

But none of those characteristics, nothing that I have learned in school, just plain nothing prepares you for when your new friend sits in front of you and tells you how her mother, who is returning from the hospital this very day, had 8 children, and only 2 of them- she and her sister- have died. What words of comfort can I begin to offer when she tells me that her sister has cancer, HIV, and TB...she could died any day. What could I say when I learn that my friend too is HIV positive. No words, no hugs, I just sit there.

This was the last half an hour of my day at the MadaboutArt Center today. It is what I am thinking about in this very moment, but I would also like to give a bigger picture of the day, because there were both highs and obviously lows, and it will give a good glimpse as to what I am doing here and what the MadAboutArt Center is all about.

I wake up at 8 at the home of Larry and Liz in Plettenberg Bay (as I have said, an upscale white vacation town) , have breakfast and coffee, and Melanie and I set off for the MadaboutArt Center, which is about a half hour ride from where we live in a town called Knysna (the township though is called Nekkies). As Melanie drives I close my eyes and try to get a few more moments of sleep but end up just thinking about a fight I had with a friend back at home. Despite being thousands of miles away, it feels so close to my heart and makes me sad.

By 9:30 we turn from the highway into the township, past small shops and a bar, onto a dirt road where we dodge pigs dogs and small children, and finally park at the MadAboutArt Center. Larry and Liz are not coming in today so the only ones there are the Youth Ambassadors, five or six young people from the township who work full time at the center, part of a training process so that they can take over Larry's job and run the entire place themselves. Siphewe, one of the Youth Ambassadors and future leaders of the center, asks if I can give him a ride into Kynsa to pick up some groceries and cardboard for the hero books we will be making that day. I love having one on one time with him, since it gives me a chance to get to know him better. He is an aspiring artist who is actually selling many of his paintings for a good price. Though he probably doesn't need the small stipend as a Youth Ambassador, he wants to give back to the community, to use art as a way to teach about HIV. He has taken a film course and he and I start talking about the possibility of teaching a few film lessons to the kids there. We both get really excited about this idea and decide to meet on Saturday to plan out how this might look. I think what a wonderful opportunity this could be, rather than to only film these guys but to give them the tools to film themselves and put something together. I'm sure it would be a powerful story, there are many to tell that I have already seen in only the three days I've been here. Plus, they have Larry's videocamera (one better than the one I used for Mechina actually) so that even when I leave they can do their own thing. It reminds me of Hillel's degrees of repairing the world, with the highest one being teach someone to fish rather than give them fish. In a small way, it feels like that's what this would be, and it is an exciting idea.

We return to the Center where the six Youth Ambassadors are getting trained in first aid by a woman visiting from London. On my way back from walking out to the car quickly to make sure it was locked, I stop to watch the preschoolers who have a building right next to the center. Perhaps it is my biological clock, but I love watching children and probably stood there for about fifteen minutes watching the little people run around, gossip with each other, fall over, comfort one that has started to cry...all of this without taking notice that I - a white woman- am watching them. Something in the back of my head creeps up and wonders what their lives will turn out to be..in a town with amongst the highest rates of HIV, I wonder how many could become infected...or are already. I hate this thought. a lot. It would never have come up had I been watching the same children in the US.

Later, we all have lunch together and I like being able to just talk and get to know the Youth Ambassadors, who are all about my age. Siphewe has to run back to his house and he and another Ambassador, Shaida, take me on a walk through parts of the township. Siphewe goes into automatic tourguide mode, talking into the camera about wanting to organize the community to make change, particularly through art. In my head, I think it seems they are well on their way. We walk through mud paths, past wood houses with tin roofs, that look like shacks but it doesn't feel right to call them that. Indeed, my new friends and everyone I meet in the center lives there...so I'm not sure what to call them yet (will write more later about them though once I figure how to say it). I think in my head also that this is great footage.

Then, the Young Youth Ambassadors (yes I know it's confusing) start trickling in. These are the kids who are still in high school but who all are also training to become leaders in the center. They have all been to London as part of the Rainbow of Hope project, a year long project that began right there at the Center and snowballed into a huge artpiece that showcased in Trafalgar Square in London. They decided they wanted to update their hero books and this is what I filmed. It was extremely powerful to hear what the hero book process has done for them- it gave them voice to a problem they are dealing with. It lifted a huge burden off their shoulders once they were able to write it down and talk about it. It makes them feel stronger for having dealt with it. It makes them feel proud that now other kids around the world are reading them (including in the US, Canada, Honduras, Zambia, Malawi, the UK to name a few) and being able to learn from their lessons how to deal with similar projects. All of the kids are excited to update their books, with a couple years of strength and wisdom to add depth to the books. After being in South Africa for one month, this is the first time I'm actually hearing from authors of the hero books (whose books I read months ago back in North Carolina) how powerful and strong the books were. It was an exciting feeling to be capturing this, to be part of a movement that will allow other children to also see themselves as heroes.

As the kids left the center, that's when my friend and I started just chatting. She's clearly the leader of all of the Ambassadors and I was excited just to have a few moments to get to know her better and for her to feel comfortable around me. We spoke about who a few of the Youth Ambassadors wanted to come visit me in Cape Town to get away for a few days, about how they want me to stay with them in the township to see what it is really like, about me being Jewish...and then, about how she takes care of her nephew because her sister, his mother, died many years ago. And about how her own hero is her mother because, despite the fact that she has buried six of her children, she continues to be strong and to help the community (for example, I know she runs a soup kitchen for children in the morning). As she tells me about how she is only left with her mom and her dying sister, I am surprised at how calm she is, how she just takes it in. Apparently, right before Larry came and MadAboutArt started, she was a different person, having nervous attacks and even attacked her teacher out of all her bottled up hatred of men...but today, she has learned to talk about it, to see her own strength and grow as a leader. It seems to me she has so much on her plate, I can't even fathom how strong she is to deal with it all, with her family, with the children at the MadAboutArt Center, with her own child who is, by the way, HIV negative...

Melanie and I are silent for the entire half hour ride back. Beside the highway we pass three other townships with their shacks seemingly piled on beside the other. Then we turn into Plettenberg Bay, where people again look like us with big-windowed houses overlooking the water. It seems so unfair, and yet it feels natural, that's just the way it is. Another day in South Africa, another day as a white person.

Hello from South Africa!

2006-03-09T09:45:00.000-08:00

Hello to everyone from South Africa!

If you're getting this mass email then you probably received my
Mechina emails also. Don't worry, things with Mechina are continuing
beautifully while I am away (indeed, I'm applying for another grant
this week!), but in the next eight months my mind and body are also in
South Africa, so enjoy these emails, my thoughts, and of course write
me back! You can also check out photos at
http://flickr.com/photos/maitalg

You'll have to forgive my first email as it will ramble a bit and go
on small tangents, but stick with me. It seems pretty important to
first say a few of things about what I heard about South Africa before
I came. First, and foremost, I heard about its beauty. But what I
also always heard was that the crime was very bad, and that I should
be very very careful. Indeed, many of my friends who came a few years
ago had computers and cameras stolen from their homes. You also
cannot talk about South Africa without talking about the racism here.
In many ways, I knew that this would be a very challenging experience
for me, especially to see the poverty and racism, but I was excited to
at least be facing it with a videocamera in hand. Perhaps
appropriately, as I landed after my 24 hour trip to Cape Town, with
the beautiful ocean on one side and Table Mountain on another, the man
sitting next to me warned me, "Beware of black people here. They're
not like black people where you're from. They're barbarians."
Welcome to South Africa, I thought.

And yet, besides that first horrific comment, I have actually been
surprised by how life here feels so similar to life at home. (It is
crucial that I repeat again and again that I have only been here for
two weeks and haven't seen much at all besides the town I am living in
now). This is my third time on the African continent (following Kenya
and Morocco) and interestingly enough, I feel the least culture shock
here. Let me explain my situation and where I am currently living
before I get into that too much…I have a point to make I promise…

I'm here in South Africa for eight months on a Lewis Hine Documentary
Fellowship from the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University.
There are two other fellows in Southern Africa and each one of us is
placed with an organization. Mine is called the 10 Million Memory
Project. The idea behind the project is that in order to live with
and deal with HIV/AIDS, treatment alone is not enough. Yes, it is
important for the body, but for the mind, soul, and spirit, there must
also be more psycho-social support. In actuality, what that has come
to mean is called "memory work" in which parents create things like
memory boxes to physically pass on their stories to their children.
In some cases, memory work also ensures that anti-virals and other
medications are taken on time, etc. Thus, the boxes also serve as a
way for the parent and child to communicate with each other.

But what I am filming is a new (about three years old) form of memory
work called "Hero Books." Rather than focusing on the parents, Hero
Books are created by children. During facilitated (what's cool is
that these can be both caregivers and also other children) workshops
(about 17, 1-hour sessions), the child creates her own book. There
are several different chapters that are included, from "My Family
Road," "My community," and then where more of the meat happens: "A
Problem that often gets the better of me," "A Shining Moment when I
overcame the problem," "Tricks and Tactics to overcome the problem,"
and finally, "The Hero, Me!" Each child narrates and illustrates her
own book, eventually realizing that they too can be heroes, empowered
to overcome, or at least co-exist with, the issues they face. The
issues from the books I've read range from abuse, missing a parent who
has passed away, and fighting stigma surrounding HIV. Again not all
of the children have HIV/AIDS themselves, but they all live in
townships and so are affected in some way or another by it or by other
social problems of living in extremely poor conditions.

I'm living with the head of the Hero Books Campaign, Jonathan Morgan.
Though his postal city reads Cape Town, in actually he lives with his
family (his wife Kyoko and two adorable children Masego and Taiji), in
Clovelly which is a small suburb about 45 minutes away from the center
of Cape Town. In my adjustment period, we have decided that I am
going to live with his family (they have a guest room and kitchen) for
now. From my window is a beautiful mountain, and my fifteen minute
walk to town passes by wetlands and a beautiful, beautiful beach with
the Indian Ocean ("they" say it's warmer than the Atlantic but it was
pretty frigid to me when I went in for the first time yesterday).
Walking around the town feels no different than walking around a small
beach town of North Carolina (except I would say the South African
accent is cuter).

That is the three paragraph version of basically what I will be doing
here. But it's really still too early to tell. I haven't seen any of
the children myself yet, and have only driven through a township. I
will go in about one week to a township where Hero Books originated
for about three weeks to film, and from there I'm sure will have many
more personal stories to tell.

Until then, this is my email of why South Africa has not been much of
a culture shock. (The first email is always the hardest because I
have to give background stories when I'd rather share my own personal
stories which I think are also more interesting to read, so stick with
me). Yes, I did walk around the first three days scared, waiting to
be mugged at any corner, fearing any poor person that I saw on the
streets, most of them black men. After a one-day trip to Cape Town
central where I really could feel I had to be more aware of my
belongings, I realized that though it's always important to be
cautious, that in Clovelly I actually don't have to do much more than
I would have done anyways while traveling or even walking in Durham at
night. Why was I feeling safer when I was expecting to fear for my
belongings everyday, I wondered?

And then on one walk back from town I had a small realization that I
think will be a major theme/comparison of my time here. Yes, South
Africa is still recovering from apartheid, which ended only last
decade. Yes, because of the high rates of unemployment people are
much more likely to break into people's homes (though Jonathan's house
has never been broken into, but he has had gas stolen from his car
last night). Yes, there are obvious examples of racism here. BUT,
though I was expecting this to be a huge shock, it hasn't been yet.
One very important reason is that I am living in a small suburban
bubble (though still it's not excluded from crime and muggings mostly
at night). But another, perhaps more profound reason, is that, being
a white person in the US—though institutionalized racism was four
decades rather than one decade ago—I too have been bombarded with
racist beliefs in the US. Now, most of those have not been outwardly
racist remarks from people like that man on the airplane, but I have
been taught to fear the black man- let's face it, most of us have
whether we like it or not, whether we are conscious of it or not.
Perhaps that's the reason why it doesn't feel all that weird to be on
guard when a poor-looking black man passes me on the street here in
South Africa- I would have been just as guarded in Durham, NC.

It feels quite vulnerable to be writing this on a mass email, but I
can't help but share my true thoughts and feelings. I of course
welcome your comments. But when I hear about the mass poverty of
townships, in many ways I could not help but think of New Orleans,
both when I lived there for two months over the summer and after
Katrina. Now, of course there are big differences, but I suppose what
is challenging thus far about South Africa, now that my initial four
day settling in period is over, is how normal it feels. Why, I have
to ask myself, have I entered a well-known racist country and still
feel no culture shock? I can't help but think perhaps my own American
culture too is not all that different….

So, I'd love to hear your thoughts to this email! I know that there
will be HUGE differences when I actually go to the townships, but I
wanted to make sure that I put my thoughts down in an email before I
head out for that next challenge. If you've read up until this point,
thank you- I know my email jumped around a bit, but I think after this
one they will make a lot more cohesive sense.