Reflections

Since most of my blog posts have been about my weekend adventures, I thought I would change things up a bit and share some of my reflections from the 7 weeks I've been here.

It's really difficult to talk about privilege without acting like "that" American tourist who travels to some African country to find herself and suddenly discovers how lucky she is and therefore decides to dedicate her entire life to helping others/saving the world/curing AIDS/etc. You all probably know the type of people I'm referring to.

But for the most part, that hasn't been my experience. Living in Pretoria has not been especially challenging now that I actually think about it. While there's no organized form of public transportation and it's not safe to walk at night or in certain areas of the city, I still live in a very nice and privileged neighborhood with a cell phone, unlimited internet, food, a comfy bed, TV, a security patrol system, etc. I haven't been challenged socially either. Everyone at Idasa is incredibly welcoming and I of course managed to find a group of predominantly American girlfriends who all speak English and who I can relate to very easily. Not to mention, my nickname is "baby jew" and/or "baby jesus" depending on who you talk to. Enough said.

And while my experience at Idasa has exposed me to the myriad challenges that Southern Africa faces, it hasn't made me want to dedicate my entire life to working for an NGO or a charitable organization. I probably will ultimately pursue a career devoted to promoting and protecting basic human rights, but I don't necessarily feel the need to shed my privilege or my current lifestyle because of some overwhelming inner guilt that arose from being surrounded by others less fortunate than myself (that probably sounds selfish but oh well).

This past weekend, I went to Maputo, Mozambique (I'll post pictures in an upcoming post). I really didn't know what to expect because just like most other Americans, I grew up with this perception of the entire continent of Africa as one giant underdeveloped, poverty-stricken place. Obviously, my extensive studies this year and my time in South Africa thus far has completely disproved that erroneous perception. But in comparison to SA, Mozambique would definitely be a more "genuine" African experience if you adhere to the Orientalist stereotype . Cities and roads developed haphazardly, shanty towns left and right, disjointed neighborhoods of thatched huts, trash piles lining the streets, kids playing with flat soccer balls in abandoned lots (just like the world cup ads) etc. But for some reason, I became numb to the wealth inequality. I don't know if numb is the right word but I stopped focusing on the wrong and starting appreciating what my South African friend Zarina called the "beautiful filth." The fact that these impoverished people have managed to generate such a close and welcoming community with so little is admirable. And instead of taking pity on them and insisting that we come in with our bulldozers or with our superior technology and "fix" their society made me reevaluate development theorist George Rist's definition of development: " 'Development' consists of a set of practices, sometimes appearing to conflict with one another, which require - for the reproduction of society - the general transformation and destruction of the natural environment and of social relations. Its aim is to increase the production of commodities (goods and services) geared, by way of exchange, to effective demand." Too often we think of the transofrmative impact of development and not the destructive element. I do believe that the West has something to offer Africa. But I also believe that development is something organic and that implementing or even suggesting our innovations to other societies does not necessarily "improve" a society.

Finally, on a less philosophical note, my experience at the exit border from Mozambique really got me thinking. If you're white and you pull up in your car with a foreign license plate, you get surrounded by scores of men offering to get your passport stamped ahead of the cue for the small price of 50 rand, or 7 bucks. Me and my mini-Supreme Court Justice self obviously decided to decline their offer and wait in the hot and admittedly stinky cue with the other hundred plus people. Needless to say, my friends and I were the only white people in line and were getting quite a few confused stares. Naturally, I gave myself a pat on the back for doing the "moral and ethical" thing. But my friend Zarina brought up a good point which is: if the whole system is corrupt, why not play into it? And she's right to some extent. If the majority of the Mozambican government, including all of border control, is corrupt and completely inefficient, how does your standing in line versus giving your passport to these men really make a difference? Doesn't there need to be a structural overhaul in the system to crackdown on corruption? Just some food for thought if you're a mini-optimist like me.