Easter Extravaganza

Our first ever easter baskets!!


It all began on 5:30 Friday morning. We were going up to the cemetery to participate in the annual cleaning/clearing of the graves. Technically you are supposed to go to the cemetery, clean the graves, and return home, all before sunrise… but we have all learned about “Botshabelo time” this semester. So at 5:30 in the morning, turns out we were the only ones awake. Around 6:45 we finally started our trek to the cemetery, which is about a mile away from botshabelo, on the other side of the village. We made it about five steps out of botshabelo before someone from the village came running to Marion with a problem. Crisis Intervention Case #421. A young man in the village got drunk last night and severely beat his wife because she took money out of his bank account without telling him. Ayla and Ilene got into social worker mode quickly when Marion assigned Ayla to watch the husband so he didn’t run away from the cops, and Ilene to the wife to console and provide safety and security for the time being. The atmosphere in Ayla’s corner versus Ilene’s corner was miles apart. Ilene and the wife were solemn and the wife was in a lot of physical and emotional pain. Ayla was fending off ridiculous and inappropriate comments from the husband and his friends, which was actually really funny and her corner inappropriately laughed the whole time. About an hour later the cops showed up, took a statement, and took the husband away.
Finally the trek to the cemetery could begin. At the graves, we encountered Marion with an entourage of little ones. She was leading each child to the grave of their family members, and we would all sit down together and support the child in talking to their deceased love one. Then we would all give blessings to the deceased person and blow them kisses. A sample of the conversation the children were having with their dead parents looked like this: “Mom/dad, I am not ready to die yet because I have my life to live, but don’t forget to fetch me when I am ready to die.” Needless to say, it was really touching and really sad. It was hard to watch a child walk from their mother’s grave to their father’s grave, and then to their sibling’s grave. While we were up there, the weather turned, and it got cooold and rainy. No one was wearing appropriate attire, and we got soaked down to our skivvies (which were somehow muddy by the end of the trek). A lot of the kids didn’t even have shoes on or a jacket.
A few graves at the cemetery:

After that kind of morning, there is only one thing a person can do. Watch a movie. Luckily Shanna has a half couch, it is kind of disgusting, but we sit on it anyways. We watched a bad movie and ate popcorn. It was good times. Then Ilene took a pair of siblings and had a counseling session with them while Ayla read a book on the nasty couch. That evening was spent like most evenings these days, our friends Thami (pronounced tommy) and David came over to visit. It seems that the main motivation for these visits is the serious condition of puppy love David, who is 15, has for Ayla.
Saturday. In the morning Ayla took her client and had a really productive session with him. Our sessions consist a lot of art therapy, and we are both anxiously awaiting Marion for our promised lecture on interpreting art. Then we went to help with the ENORMOUS amount of preparations for easter. There was the bajillion bars of chocolate to melt down and spoon onto tin foil and then individually wrap. Then there was the easter egg painting station, which turned into color wars by the end of the night. And there was the ever-popular basket making.

(the kids were so anxious to make their easter baskets, that they were searching high and low for anything they could use. we found ourselves donating everything and anything we possibly could... including this matzah box-turned easter basket. it made us happy)

Sunday. Still more easter preparation. But lucky for us we skipped out and went to a local church service with our old roommate Pauline, who is head of the kitchen here. Apparently the church shares between two congregations: the white Afrikaners and the blacks. When we arrived the Afrikaner service had just ended, and they swooped upon us like vultures to rotting meat in hopes of recruiting us to their congregation. It was uncomfortable to say the least, and when asked for our emails Ayla gave a fake and Ilene gave an account she doesn’t check. The service begins. The building is one small room with 50 fold out chairs. The service started with harmonious singing and then went into a lecture by the pastor. Everyone had their heads bowed and eyes closed, but Ayla was sneaking peaks and saw that the pastor was crying throughout his first sermon. For the following sermons, we got vip treatment, and congregation members stood up next to the pastor to translate for us. The topic of the sermon seemed to center upon the two lives that we have: our human life and our spiritual life. There was much talk of rebirth, and having a choice of which kind of life you want to live. At one point, they even seemed to be telling the Passover story, but the accents of our interpreters were thick, and it was hard to know exactly what was being said. The service concluded with everyone taking communion. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Interestingly enough, the host was matzah! As everyone lined up to receive it, we sheepishly stood back, but everyone’s intense staring at us and gentle nudging made it clear that we weren’t about to skip out on this one. For the first time ever, and the last time ever, Ayla and Ilene took communion. Amen.
After church we returned home to help with the continuing easter shenanigang/extravaganza. We were there aaaaall night tying little strings to the easter eggs and then to the trees. It kind of looked like Christmas with all the egg ornaments hanging from the trees.
Monday. Rainy mushiness. This was the day of the great easter egg hunt, but the terrible weather postponed it until late in the afternoon. The day was spent in eager anticipation. Then around 4, it began. First was the ceremony of dumping the tons and tons of candy into big bins, so that all the kids could see the booty that was soon to be theirs.

Then we carried the heavy-ass bins all the way up half way to the cemetery. Good thing we got biceps of steel. I cannot impress on you how heavy this candy was. Then we walked along the field of high grass and threw the candy. The candy field was the size of 2 soccer fields. Then the hunt began. On your mark, get set, go!

The kids went crazy hunting for the candy. There was also 100 rand that everyone was especially hunting for. Two hours later the sun was setting, the dogs had eaten half of the chocolate, and the field was covered in candy wrappers. The kids went home, and we went with the family to the “wishing pile”- a sacred space to make blessings and wishes for the world. All in all, a successful easter.