Do You Sing?

Throughout my life, one of the most common questions asked by people that I have just met is, “Do you sing?” After I chuckle to myself, I quickly tell them, “No, I do not.” “But you have such a wonderful voice,” they often respond. I then explain that they do not want to hear me sing as it is not so wonderful! Obviously in church, there are many songs and hymns that are sung and I enjoy joining in with the congregation and band. Singing songs is a contributing factor to a worship service in the States. This is also a major part of bible camp as you are constantly singing songs throughout the various activities there. Now, understanding that I do not sing in the U.S. unless I am in church or working at camp, you should know I had zero intention of singing outside of church services here in South Africa either. In fact during our week of orientation in Pietermaritzburg, I specifically remember saying to the group that I will not be joining a choir.

I arrived in Masealama on September 6. On September 7 I was introduced to my friend Moss, who is a professor at the University of Limpopo in Turfloop and one of the conductors of the Turfloop Church Youth Choir. On September 8 I joined Moss and his choir for practice, and fell in love with it! The following day, I was invited to join the Youth Group of Masealama at church. I was unaware what activities they would be doing. Regardless I quickly accepted the invitation to join them. Singing, of course, is what occurred at Youth Group. So there I was not even finished with my first week in my host community and I had already joined two choirs. The words, “I will not be joining a choir” reverberated throughout my head for the rest of the day.

I had already realized how important music was to the South African culture simply by attending church services by seeing and listening to the congregation singing powerfully throughout the services. What I did not realize was how it continued into each event and people’s daily lives. I had the pleasure to attend a conference at the University where the choir had nothing to do with the conference, but was invited to sing a few songs. While singing, many people in the audience stood, sang along, danced, chanted, and clapped. The energy prevalent in the room was amazing, I found myself getting into the songs even though I could not understand their language. The same was true at the graduation ceremony that I attended at the University. At one point when the choir was singing, every single graduate stood up and began to dance and sing along. Singing here in South Africa is simply part of their lives, everyone sings and they sing everywhere.

I soon found myself planning my schedule around attending choir practice. I had also joined the Masealama soccer team and their practice happens to overlap with the Turfloop choir practice, but I would skip every other day to go sing. That is correct, I was skipping something I love, to go do something I have never wanted to do before. There must be something more to it than just singing, right? Sure, the people are wonderful, incredibly inviting, and fun to be around, not to mention all around my age and therefore a great way to meet peers, but what I found was much deeper than that. When I walk into practice I have a smile on my face and when I leave, an even bigger smile. I am happy when I am there. Not that I am unhappy other places, but there I have a great time and I feel comfortable.

During the second choir practice I attended in Turfloop, I was informed of an upcoming choir competition in a town, five or six hours drive away, Witbank. Moss said I must come along with them! This excited me. At first, I assumed I would not be able to learn the songs in time and that I would simply be there to support the choir and to cheer them on. However, at the very next practice, several choir members were wondering if I would be accompanying them to Witbank and singing with them. They all encouraged me to sing with them rather than just watch. So, I began to try my best to learn the songs and diligently attend practice. Although, the choir practices every day, it was difficult for me to always have a ride home lined up as the taxis no longer run after 6:00pm. After attending just five practices in a little over two weeks, I was waking up at 3:30 in the morning to board a bus headed to Witbank. Was I nervous, yes, for some of the songs I had only sang through once!

There is another twist to the story, but an entertaining one at that. The choir has a uniform they wear. What is it you ask? Well black shoes, black pants, white shirt, black tie, and black vest. What dress clothes did Taylor bring with him to South Africa? Brown, brown, and more brown, zero black. Moss assured me this would not be a problem at all as he would find me some black shoes and pants as long as I had a white shirt. Then I could borrow a vest and tie from somebody else. Well, Saturday happened to be a holiday so the shops were all closed and Moss was unable to get shoes and pants for me as he was unaware of the holiday. After all, who has a holiday on a Saturday? Yet again, he assured me I would be just fine. Upon arrival in Witbank, I had no idea what I would be wearing, but I knew the worst that could happen is I would be in the audience cheering the choir on. But then, Moss told me to go over to a car where I would find black pants and a vest I could wear. He said he could not find anyone with spare black shoes as my feet are much larger than most South Africans. The only shoes I had brought along were brown. As if I did not stick out enough as the only white person in the area, I now was wearing all black with brown shoes, what a site for sore eyes!

After all the jokes were made about my outfit and people stopped staring at me, it was time sing. Regardless of my outfit, I was not going to let that affect me or my singing. It was soon time for the male choir to sing their first song, Soldiers’ Chorus. I love this song, it is fun to sing! After a short break, the entire chorus sang a Western song, We Come in Bright Array, and an African song, Molaetsa. We also had a solo, double quartet, and two other songs that members of the choir sang in the competition, but I was not a part of them. Being in the audience was one of my favorite parts of the competition, for the audience once again really got into the singing and dancing. Between each song, while the next choir came on stage, one person in the audience would start to sing a song and those in attendance would begin singing along and dancing too. In between songs, they sang more songs… did I mention how much South Africans love to sing?

While waiting to hear the results of the competition, the choir sat together in the balcony of the auditorium. We started several songs and chants that brought the audience to their feet. It was extremely entertaining and enjoyable to be a part of this experience. Then the results were in. As the outcomes of each section were awarded, we sat on the edge of our seats hoping we did well. Out of the 7 songs we competed with, we were awarded 1^st place with 5 of them! You can only imagine how excited we were. Now, the real singing, chanting, and dancing began as we celebrated our victories all the way through the streets of Witbank back to our bus!

Singing has become a major aspect of my time here in South Africa. Although it is something I never would have imagined to play such a role in my life here, I am very pleased that it has. Not only do I enjoy singing the songs, but the community that I have become a part of as a result is wonderful. I have met many people through singing and look forward to furthering these relationships throughout the year both in and outside of the choir.

Warm Hearts, Friendly Attitudes

It has been two weeks that I have been living, exploring, and enjoying my host community of Masealama. I have had some great experiences and met several amazing people. Through these experiences there are numerous individuals that are incredibly welcoming to me. Walking through the village, I am greeted by each person saying, “thobela.” They all want to know how I am doing and what they can help me with. One might think that they are only doing this because I am foreign or new to the area, however each person is inviting to all the people in the village. It is wonderful how hospitable everyone is.

Every individual I have interacted with wants to be a mentor for me. They all want to show me around the village, or how to take a taxi into Turfloop or town (Polokwane). I am and have been invited to several different events, from soccer matches to singing with the church choir to weddings and funerals. No matter the event, their intentions are to show me the way their customs and culture and how they are prevalent in the event. They are excited to show me their way of life, and I am excited to learn.

One of the most difficult things for me has been getting used to their language. Thankfully, everyone wants me to learn Sebedi, so they are constantly teaching me how to say certain things. Unfortunately, it is complicated and I can only say a few things as of now. But soon, I will know and understand, or so the locals tell me. My favorite word so far is “sho,” as it is slang for “I am fine.” I enjoy this because all the children at the crèche I work at continually say it to me, and then give me their thumb (kind of like a high-five, which I of course have taught them). As soon as one child says it, there are ten more running over to me saying it and giving me their thumb. I cannot help but to smile.

What I have found intriguing with this idea of mentorship, is it does not matter who the person is, what their occupation is, how old they are, or whether they can or not afford to show me around or invite me in. I have had people, young and old, male and female, employed and unemployed, available and busy; all wanting to take me around, invite me into their homes, and to cook for me. They also want to visit me at my home in Masealama, to hang out with me, get to know me, and teach me more about themselves.

I have now attended four different church services at four different sites in South Africa. At each one, I am greeted by several people, all shaking my hand and inviting me in. They all help interpret the service for me since most or all of it occurs in Zulu or Sebedi. They share their hymnals so I can sing along. At some point in each service, I have been brought upfront and introduced to the entire congregation. They “shine” me (a sign of respect) and clap for me as if I am doing something exceptional and great. They make me feel extremely welcome.

If there is one thing I have learned in my first few weeks in South Africa, it is that all the people I have interacted with have warm hearts and friendly attitudes. All are very welcoming to me and to all individuals. There is a real sense of community and love for one another. The saying, “make yourself feel at home” is not necessary, for the community members have already made me feel at home.

This is Africa

After departing Sioux Falls nearly 3 weeks ago commencing my journey in South Africa for the coming year, I will soon be able to unpack all of my bags and lay claim to my new home. It has been quite the journey to get here. First, spending a week in Chicago getting ‘orientated’ with 49 other YAGM volunteers who have been sent out all over the world. In that week we had several seminars discussing a variety of subjects including interfaith discourse, cross cultural issues, world of 100 experiment, and typology of personality through an enneagram of personality test. Many of the issues and ideas brought up in these discussions and seminars were furthered in small group discussions and at the dinner tables. It, however, was not all work. We did play. Having this time in Chicago was a great opportunity to see the sites and enjoy one another’s company through watching the air show from the beach, dining at a local African restaurant, laying under ‘the bean,’ rooting for the home team at Wrigley Field, and playing soccer and volleyball at the beach. The week in Chicago was great for building community with all of the YAGM volunteers and creating friendships sure to last but it was also a perfect stepping stone as we ventured around the world.

The eleven other South African volunteers and I left Chicago on Wednesday August 24. After thirty-eight and a half hours of flights and layovers, we finally made it to Durban, South Africa! It was quite the journey. As soon as I could see the ground of South Africa from my seat on the plane, I could not believe that I was actually here. I kept thinking to myself, “Is this really South Africa? Am I really here!?!” We quickly (but actually rather slowly due to some glitches with our bags) gathered our luggage and loaded up the van awaiting our arrival to transport us to our home or the next ten days in Pietermaritzburg. While we were driving I continued to wonder if this was really Africa as it is not what you might think of when one thinks of Africa. There were cars everywhere, nice buildings, paved roads, and pizza. Now at the end of this leg in my journey, I still find myself questioning if I am really here, but I know the answer is simply, “This is Africa.”

In the last week or so, the twelve members of M.U.D. 4 (the fourth group of Ministry Upstream and Downwind as we are so called) have had the opportunity to continue developing a sense of community together through many activities such as attending church for hourS at a time (don’t worry, the services seem to go by faster than the one hour services back in the States), play soccer, engage in several discussions on “what we are doing here,” cooking and sharing meals together, experiencing a traditional Zulu cultural village, and hiking in areas abundant with zebra, giraffe, wildebeest, bucks, and monkeys. Again, these days together have been wonderful for each one of us. They have opened our eyes to many things we have never seen or experienced. I still cannot fathom to think I am here and what is to come. Which brings me back to my original thoughts of, “Am I really here?” I keep hearing and seeing throughout my short time here, “This is Africa.” People use it for a variety of reasons, but I feel it speaks directly to me in the sense that, yes I am here.

This morning, I began the final leg of my journey to Masealama. I, along with three other M.U.D. 4 volunteers, took a bus to Johannesburg. In the morning I will take another bus to Polokwane where my host mother will be picking me up to take me the rest of the way. I am looking forward to this and the moment I can finally say, “I am here, and this is Africa.”