"Ngisuthi" = I'm full

I thought I would fill you in on an average day with my homestay family.

 I get home from class around 5, and my mama welcomes me at the door and asks if i want tea. Baba (my father, who coincidently is also named Stephen) is already settled in front of the TV (which does not turn off in any Zulu family until bedtime, if then) with his tea. I set my things down in my bedroom and put my wet shoes in the bathroom. My mama comes in and tell me, "I made your bed." To which I reply, "Did I not do it correctly?" 

"No, the sheet below was showing here. Don't worry, you will learn."

None of this is mean, by the way, it's all good natured and humorous. Homestay mamas treat their guests as their own daughters, and my mama wants to make sure that after my 5 weeks with her I will be prepared to keep a house and raise a family. That's the women's role, think of South Africa sort of as America post-desegregation, but pre-bra-burning feminine stage.

As I drink my tea, two boys (who are related to the family I think? I believe one is my brother, but he doesn't live in the house, so I'm not sure) ask me questions about America. They ask if I know Jasmine, last year's homestay daughter. She lives in Atlanta. I explain the East/Midwest/West division and draw maps in the air for them. They ask about my iPod and laptop. Then we discuss the digestive system, which my brother (?) has learned about in school.

We go down the street to buy bread, and by the time I am back there are about 5 children hanging on me. The streets are filled with people. 

With the original two boys we go back into the house, and mama gives me an ear of corn- but called mealies, and slightly more starchy, and only boiled not buttered. I take forever to eat it while we watch TV.

After a while dinner is ready (last night she showed me how to make the chicken curry and had me make the salad). The boys have gone back to their house for dinner, so it is only me, mama and baba. We have leftovers from last night, chicken curry on rice (delicious), as well as pumpkin and beetroot salad (pickled beet pieces). But there is a LOT. This is an intimidating plate of food, and I probably have half the amount they have. My mama was afraid I didn't get enough last night (I definitely did), so I got way more tonight. They finish and I am trying, trying to finish, because not to is impolite. Painfully full, I finish. She offers that she has "German peanut butter" that I can eat for lunch or snacks or whatever, and I timidly say that I don't really eat peanut butter much, but thank you very much. I felt really bad, maybe I should have just sucked it up? 

She pulls out a 3 liter, unopened bottle of Coke and says "We thought you might like to have some of this!" I don't drink Coke normally, but this was such a nice gesture that I said "Sure!" and downed a glass. I gathered up the dishes to wash but Generations was coming on.

Generations is the soap opera that comes on every weeknight, prime time. EVERYONE watches it and it's addicting. There is this girl who got stabbed in the face and a girl who had a miscarriage and ohoh- it's in Zulu (with subtitles). At the end mama said it was good to watch Generations to learn what I want (as in from a relationship). 

She had me watch Generations before doing the dishes. After that we washed up, and went to bed. There's not really a roof like we are used to, it's more like covered rafters, so when someone has on a light, there is a light on for the whole house. So... after Generations, everyone goes to bed! Everyone wakes up early here- like 5am. Me sleeping to 6:15 is pretty late. 

In the morning I am the last up- mama leaves as I am getting up. I wash in a tub, with a wash basin in it, which I'm still figuring out how to get clean in. Also I'm expected to wash twice a day, as a female child. 

This weekend we're going to church. It's Anglican, and everyone wears long white dresses and wraps their heads in white. I'll let you know how it goes, but it should be interesting. African singing is beautiful.