KwaZulu-Natal Expedition 2007 Part One

August 24, 2007 – Ufafa, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa

It has been a homecoming of sorts being back at Woza Moya… performing at the eleven schools in the area for children that welcome us with quotes and songs from the shows of the last three years… teaching an ever growing class of children every afternoon – most of them the same faces from last year’s workshops…  playing with their Gogos, grandmothers and primary caregivers, in the morning.  Nomsebenzi, one of our Gogos, covered in layers of color and frills, carries a steal pipe for a cane and has deep creases of time carving canyons around the apples of her cheeks which stand out large and buoyant, defying the age written on the rest of her face.  She tells us she didn’t expect to ever see us again.  Not that she was doubting our return to the area this year, but that she didn’t think she would live through the year to great us again.  She is quite certain she won’t make it to see us next year.  If she’s right, I wonder, what will happen to little Mzamo? 

It has been wonderful to be back.  We have worked hard with the kids in the afternoons playing games, learning circus skills, and creating a performance piece based on a beautiful story from Zimbabwe calledChildren of Wax.  The kids are thirsty for this time to have fun, to be kids.  Their play is fierce, their excitement thick. 

But my heart is moved most by the work that we are doing in the mornings with their Gogos, their grandmothers and elderly foster mothers.  Our time together is rich and relaxing.  We sit, we talk, we share stories.  But most of all, we play.  After our warm up exercises, one Gogo tells us how her body has felt great all week, her aches and pains have melted away because of the movement that we are doing together.  Later we turn on music and we dance together – Angel Dancing.  In pairs, one person closes their eyes while their “Angel” keeps careful watch over them to make sure they stay out of harm’s way while also helping to gently guide the dance.  Now, quite the opposite to the rest of their busy lives, the Gogos can release into letting someone else take care of them.  They love it.  They laugh and wiggle.  “If I were at home right now, I would just be sitting there thinking of all of my problems and worrying.  When I’m dancing, it all floats away.”

I am struck by the depth of this simple work.  By how much these women, just like the children they care for, need an outlet in which to let go, to release, to have fun.  These are the unsung heroines of this place.  They are the force of survival for all of those that are suffering from loss in this area. They hold the lifeline of their people.  May they have the chance to unload their burden, even if only for a couple of hours, and touch back in to a sense of ease.  Our gratitude for each other and this time is boundless.  We sing, pray, and then they slowly make their way down the dusty red dirt road back to their huts and their familiar lives.  May this year treat them well – may their health be strong – may their challenges be eased – may their homes be full of love – and may we return next year to great them all again (even Nomsebenzi!) to move and dance and sing together.  To let go and smile.  To nurture and celebrate this precious, wondrous life…

- Liz Turkel