Tag: South Africa

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As this was my first conference and I am still familiarising myself with Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) and their devices I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from these three days. I was not to be disappointed…

Having recently decided that I wanted to undertake a career in research and the further development of AAC devices, I was over the moon when the opportunity arose for me to attend the conference as a PA for my client, Alan. Eager to learn more about the field that I had begun to lean towards as a future career opportunity, I couldn’t have asked for more from the conference.

Starting at nine am in the morning we would choose the seminars that most interested us during the day and continue this way until around five pm. The range of talks available to attend was wondrous, from professionals to AAC users to parents who had taken up roles within the Centre for Augmentative and Alternative Communication (CAAC) we were given a wide range of knowledge about AAC. By hearing from all the different groups one was able to gain a wide picture about the progress, internationally, on the development of devices for non- speakers or speakers of limited communication abilities. As a conference, the AAC users who gave us inspirational talks using their various communication devices spoilt us.

We listened to their stories of empowerment which illustrated that despite the boundaries put on their physical and communication abilities, these people had chosen to acknowledge the capabilities within their disability. They had overcome the limitations that society had imposed on them and found a way to lead full lives. From swimmers at the Paralympics Games to teens preparing to develop a support group for other disabled children to people who had gone on to gain University degrees and found new ways of improving the world for disabled people. As an able bodied person, I was left awestruck and inspired by these people who had overcome so much and were willing to share their stories and experiences with us.

Most of the professionals gave talks on the current research on going around the world, but one aspect in particular stood out to me. The majority of the professionals had no computer knowledge and didn’t appear to be building links with any ‘teckies’. As an undergraduate computing student myself, I thought this was a great disadvantage to the development of AAC devices. In a project as important and large as this, to bring a voice to everyone around the world, we need to work as a team. Experience from all sectors of the industry is essential to the success of AAC devices and not acknowledging this could be a critical downfall to the future of AAC. Without people to bring their personal experiences together with the technical background of the ‘teckies’ AAC devices will never reach their full potential.

In addition to the divided work pattern, I found that many people were focusing on the development of devices specifically for AAC users. This is the wrong approach, in my opinion, to take. Developing technology and software on mainstream technology that already exists allows for more inclusion into society for the user as they are welcomed as part of the crowd. Many users already feel the pain from society’s obnoxious exclusion due to their disability; they don’t want to stand out anymore with equipment that makes them even more ‘different’.

In a conversation today with a woman with Cerebral Palsy, we discussed how ‘society does not owe anyone anything regardless of their impairments’. This was an intriguing idea as it suggests that in order for us all to work in society we all have to give and take. Therefore shouldn’t users meet the able bodied half way and be allowed the chance to feel more included in society whilst still being allowed a voice in society. By allowing the user to feel included you provide a better chance at their happiness and ensure a greater unity amongst all people within society, regardless of their communication abilities. This point was briefly touched upon in the conclusion of the conference and I think will become a greater point of discussion in the coming future as people realise the limitations and excessive costs of AAC devices. Through the development of AAC software on mainstream technologies it allows more AAC users to gain a voice as that technology is more readily available and affordable thus increasing the chance of a greater unity within society.

Video link to Alan's talk: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlHuDZrkzbg

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As a big fan of animals, especially the big five, I was ecstatic to find out that I was getting to visit Kruger Park during my stay in South Africa. The four - night experience was not to be forgotten! Upon arrival, I was handed the keys to a massive 11- seater Kombi and wished good luck. Climbing aboard the beast that was to become my transport for the upcoming weekend, I fearfully tried to drive off. Just managing to move forward I was gaining confidence, until we thought we had missed our turn off and would be forced to reverse. Having never driven anything beside my instructor's mini and my little car (Peugeot 207), driving the Kombi was nerve racking enough without the added issue of not being told of the reverse mechanics. In a VW you have to PUSH down and slide the gear stick into 1st gear, rather than pull the stick back like I was used to. A fact that we eventually learnt as night fell when we managed to find our way to the reception of our first chalet. The driving got smoother after that!

It was a lovely weekend with much jovial banter going on between us all. We had some interesting learning experiences with Peter making his first ever fire at aged nineteen! Having a braai (BBQ) for supper each night and making do with the cooking facilities we had in each chalet. It was nice indulging in some of my childhood meats such as boerwors and sipping my favourite wine in it's country of origin - even if the cork did get stuck in the neck of the bottle forcing me to push it right through!

Each day I would take us all on a seven hour drive around Kruger Park, driving the big Kombi. Whilst in the bush we cam upon some exciting scenes: two leopards about fifty yards away from us, many herds of elephants, giraffe, zebra, lions mating again about a fifty yards away from us and lots of monkeys among other animals. We were very fortunate to see the lions and especially the leopards as one can go a decade without seeing one!

Our final adventure within the park was on our way out, about forty km away from the exit and just past the half way point between the exit and the nearest petrol station (gas station) we realised that we had hit the reserve tank. Calling the Kombi's owner to check how far it would take us we were informed that there was a good chance we wouldn't make the exit before running out of petrol. The frightening, adrenaline pumping experience was not one to forget. We made it to the nearest petrol station - just - before starting the seven hour bus ride to the hotel we were to spend the next four nights.

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As we were preparing to land in Jo’burg I felt this sense of belonging and homecoming; after nearly two decades I stepped foot in the city in which I was born in for the first time. Chilly as the weather was, I was a Cheshire with the lightest of steps. After all this time, I was finally allowed to see where I had taken my first breaths. I was home.

As I was travelling with Alan who had a disability we were rushed through customs, which meant that we missed the queues. Giddy with excitement, I kept looking about in an attempt to feel some connection to this city. After arriving at our hotel, piling more layers on, we decided to head into Sandton. This was the area of Jo’burg that I was actually born in and hadn’t expected to see it so was unable to contain my joy as this plan was confirmed. On route to the mall we passed sights familiar to me from my childhood; townships, African people at robots (traffic lights), shops advertising biltong among other things. It was as if I had returned home.

Sandton is an exclusive area which lead to the Nelson Mandela mall being filled with boutiques and jewellery shops that one could see in most big cities worldwide so didn’t pose much fascination for us. It was so interesting to finally see the mall in which my mother walked in whilst waiting for me to be born, apparently I was stubborn and didn’t want to be born. Although I left this country as a newborn, I have this unexplainable bond with it. Some of the views were quite remarkable but not quite as breath taking as some of the sights I had seen in Scotland.

We caught the Gautrain back to our hotel, basically a little underground and over ground train that went between some of the nearby areas. Having been built for last year’s World Cup it was amazingly clean and the staff very helpful. It was an interesting trip which both illuminated some of Jo’burg’s exclusive and poverty stricken areas showing a country that had a mixture of classes with class ceilings more distinct than the British Government would have allowed. As with so many cities, it often had the exclusive areas bordering with the poorest, but it felt like home and I couldn’t have wished to be anywhere else at that moment.

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Recently I found out that I have been given a fantastic opportunity to go to South Africa for about two weeks. I will be working with Alan as he is going across to do some talks in some of the primary schools. It should be very interesting. The best part though is that I finally get to see my country of birth, on an expenses paid trip! All I have to do is sort out meals etc whilst I'm there, and I'm rather looking forward to tucking into all my old favourites..

To say the least I am rather excited about the trip, even though it will still be winter there when we visit it'd probably still warmer than Scotland will be.

Oh, July, please hurry up!!

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Our honeymoon. Nothing special, just a modern hut in a complex at Victoria Falls, where every morning we rose to the lilac rays of light falling across the red polished floor as the sun filtered through the Jacaranda trees. It was paradise: the beginning of our new life. We were staying at the cottage for a week, enjoying each others company before returning home to Salisbury where I would be packing up my possessions to move into our new home in Northern Rhodesia. The ten-hour drive to the breath taking sight had prevented me from ever seeing the falls previous to my honeymoon; it was our wedding present from my parents. The peacocks wandered towards us, their confidence hardly surprising when we had the braai going; I had already collected at least half a dozen of their glamorous feathers that were left stranded around the cottages from the local party. I wasn’t too fond of the gudos though, they had a tendency to surround me whilst I surrendered, forced to call on Jeremy, my clumsy knight, to rescue me. Our second meal as husband and wife was a traditional meal of steaming sadza with stew and marrow bones the size of a toddler’s fist, served with a bottle of chilled white wine. It was a pleasant week, but as the end loomed nearer I began to get flutters about the upcoming months’ trials…
James worked in the mines in Northern Rhodesia in Chingola, at the Nchanga Mines Open Pit and we would be starting our new life together in that area. At the young age of twenty-two I was well accustomed to the sheltered lifestyle of a fairly affluent family in a community I had lived my whole life. Next week, however, I would be migrating to an area entirely unknown to me. James reassured me that the women there were welcoming, describing our enticing new home. But the daunting event of moving still made me falter; would I cope in my new role? Packing up our belongings from the cottage, the houseboy loaded our bags into the car. His young eyes well accustomed to the arrival and departure of newly weds, brandishing bags heavier than most of his meagre possessions added together. Warmly smiling I awarded the child with a tip, his eyes glowing with gratitude, tatenda chikwashuro.
*
Dressed up in my navy linen suit, James and I drove to Chingola and our new life together. The six-hundred miles lead us to a foreign area, an isolated community of expats from all over. As we crossed the border into the country that was later to become known as Zambia, we pulled up along the road where James captured my youth as I stood in both Southern and North Rhodesia. The next time I would pass through the border the countries would be know as Rhodesia and Zambia. Passing through the town that was then known as Broken Hill, I wondered about my new home, with my new responsibilities as a wife. Idly, my mind questioned my ability to provide and make James pleased. Of course, I wasn’t going to suffer myself to merit his happiness but I would try at least. As we neared our new life the trees became denser, the road bumpier as we left the Great North Road. Parts of the ground slithered menacingly, thin waves hissing dangerously. I was a relatively outdoorsy person but those vindictive legless beasts could make me collapse just crossing my line of sight. Ian, my elder brother, frequently teased me and once tortured me with a dead one. He cut the lights, carelessly flung the limp body into my box room and shot a blank bullet outside my door. The echo created the illusion that I had been shot sending me into a fainting spell. Awakening I saw the long cadaver hanging over the bed, inches away from my exposed face. Screaming, my heart momentarily stopping, I passed out. Ian was severely punished for his devilish act, since then I panic at the simple thought of the deadly hiss and venomous fangs.
As the sun transcended the equator allowing the moon to fill the sky we drove into our new life. The electric lights flickered, declaring the community a modern imitation of the city life from which I had come. We had passed through some primitive towns on our way up where the few lights were run by generators. At least Nchanga was a modern mine, not the archaic village that I feared. My exhaustion level high, my energy seemingly siphoned by the car, I stumbled into my new home blind to its beauty and promise. Tomorrow I would explore, introduce, unpack, and set up my new residence….
*
Rising early to Jame’s soft snoring I began to acquaint myself with the house. As Mrs. Rowena Parker I was in charge of directing the servants-two maids, a cook, a gardener, and a houseboy- and handing out tasks. It was the lady of the house’s responsibility to manage the house, a role I was unaccustomed to. Isolated in the bush, with only the community to socialise with I was anxious of introducing myself badly. Stepping into the spacious kitchen, its floor icy on my naked feet I squinted into the half lit room, curious about the black puddle on the floor. A selous mongoose skittered out the room, its presence unnerving. Flicking the switch, I bathed the room in light, screaming as the puddle transformed into the deadliest African Snake, the rovambira. Thankfully the mongoose had killed the creature; otherwise I would have been instantly paralysed by the fifteen foot assassin, whose single bite would have killed me in a matter of hours. Welcome to the bush, home to even more murderers than the African city of my childhood.
As I adapted to my new surroundings and attended socials at the local hall I began to familiarise myself with marriage life. We had Scrabble nights at each others’ houses, shared stories of bad experiences with servants and riots and formed a bond to our neighbours who were experts at our new roles in society. Limited media coverage sheltered us from the riots and grenade attacks in major cities in Sothern Rhodesia, hiding us from the two legged killers. I learnt to control the household with the grace of years of experience, hosting small parties and discovering full independence. Being married to a mine worker provided me with opportunities to learn of cultures from distant countries, the chance to discover the simple joy of being one’s own person in a new world.
Married life was different to childhood and adolescence; it demanded stamina and perseverance as husband and wife learn to negotiate lifestyles. James and I passed its audition, surviving the civil wars of our country; the changes of government, saw Southern and Northern Rhodesia change their names as they divorced. We remained united, watching our faces age as we weakened. It was on our sixtieth anniversary that the bush overpowered civilisation and destroyed our seemingly eternal bond. James surprised me with a pair of diamond earrings whilst we were on our daily walk. Catching the moonlight they shimmered, lighting up my face. It was my fault, everyone always says that afterwards but in my case it was true. Brushing my silver hair behind my ear I knocked one earring from my ear-I hadn’t put the hoop in fully. The delicate gem jumped to the ground in murderous descend. Sneaking into a large pile of decaying leaves, the diamond twinkled teasingly.
“My earring, I’m sorry Jeremy.”
“It’s okay. Let me get it, it’s just leaves-“
His knees creaking he knelt over the bundle, smiling his contagious smile he pulled faces at the slime and faces drawing laughter from my frail lips. Giggling I playfully nudged his foot accidentally knocking him into the pile. He laughed, eyes lighting up. A black blur touched his arm knocking James to his back as the murderer indifferently slithered away.
*
That day James passed away, the venom had instantly paralysed him and within twelve hours killed him. Last week I went to the complex where we spent our honeymoon and said my last farewell to him as I sprinkled his ashes over the falls. His death was a turning point in my life, rather than flee from the legless beasts I had taken to standing boldly in their path determined to overcome my fear. James would have been proud.

Meanings
Chikwashur--miss                                    Rovambira--black mamba
Braa--barbeque                                          Sadza--a meal made out of maize
Gudos--baboons                                        Tatenda--thank-you

© Heather R Ellis
November 2009