Acclimating to South Africa ...

Numerous times the other interns and I have raved about what a fun and truly educational experience working with Lawyers for Human Rights has been thus far. Though it can be challenging and at times mentally and emotionally draining, I love the fact that as interns, we are interacting with our clients, and working together with all the staff to come up with solutions to the wide-ranging problems that our office faces each day.

This past week, I have been working closely with our office legal assistant/secretary, Tando, who has been working with refugees for 7 years now. She is studying to be a lawyer herself with dreams of eventually moving to the UK. The fact that she speaks five languages — Xhosa, Swahili, Zulu, French, and English — is a huge asset to LHR. That and the fact that she has a personality that is full of life and joyfulness (she is the one on the phone and in the group picture below, laughing with her mouth gaping wide open). To gain hands-on experience, I have been sitting in her seat in the front office as she mentors me on the different solutions and approaches to issues: from filling out affidavits for clients with lost permits to writing ‘border transit’ letters for those wanting to return to their home countries. The issues are multifaceted and can be complex, but extremely fascinating. At times, Tando leaves the office to run errands and leaves me on my own with a room full of clients, often times nervously baffled as they ask me questions I don’t know the answer to. “This is how you learn!” she would say—usually with a huge smile and a burst of laughter that ricochets throughout the office. Yesterday, Tando taught Andy and I the different clicks in Xhosa and Zulu. It was hilarious … I swear, all the clicks sound the same! I tried but failed miserably, the only thing spewing out of my mouth not clicks and clucks but wads of saliva flying in all directions. The office is always filled with laughter—which I love.

I really enjoy the work I am doing; it gives me reassurance that a career in law—public interest and refugee/immigrant rights in particular—is something I can see myself doing in the future. Maybe it's the excitement of being in a new country and the fact that I have been getting at least 8 hours of sleep each night (way, way more than I get during the school year!) but I wake up each morning psyched about going to work. This feeling of complacency, of passion and excitement, I believe, is something we should all strive for in our life’s work, in whatever we end up doing. Perhaps I am on the way to finding mine.

What’s more, life in South Africa has been what everyone I talked to described it to be: absolutely amazing. Fear of safety was my primary concern my first week here, but I have quickly acclimated to life here and have become comfortable walking around on my own—though not late at night. The weather is beautiful (reminds me of California on sunny days), the people are extremely friendly, and the food is relatively cheap! I live in a flat with two other roommates, both medical students from England, here to shadow doctors as part of their residency program. I have my own room (small but simple and nice) and the place is fully furnished with a bathroom, kitchen, and a spacious living room. The great thing is that the building is connected to a backpacker’s hostel where I have the option of being in the mix of drunkenness (especially during this time of European soccer frenzy) or the option of retreating to my room to relax when tired. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

Last weekend, I went to the beach with Melissa (an intern from my office) and Brent (an intern from the Human Rights Commission). The tides were strong, which presented a perfect opportunity for surfing. I must admit though, that surfing is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Snowboarding I picked rather quickly, but paddling wildly to catch a wave and then positioning myself atop the board without plunging into the water is not easy! How people do it and make it look so effortless is beyond me. Maybe I’ll get some pointers this weekend from watching the ‘Mr. Price Pro’ International Surf competition, which we are all eagerly anticipating. My goal by the end of the summer: to be able to surf ... without constantly crashing into the water.

Today however, we are celebrating my birthday by going out to a South African restaurant, then to a rugby game (which is very popular in South Africa), and then followed by an excursion to a Congolese Club, escorted by the one and only, Tando. “You just wait and see,” she cautioned with laughter. We are all excited. A bit nervous, but yes, excited (I think. haha). We’ll see how this goes.

Xenophobia & World Refugee Day

On the second day of work, I went to a church with Dieuonne (the former lawyer from Congo) to conduct intake for the 150 refugees from the Democratic Republic of Congo who sought shelter there for the past three weeks. I found it difficult and rather painful listening to a member of the refugee community stand up and share his thoughts on the crisis affecting his people: children were not attending school, homes were ransacked, and, most tragically, refugees were being threatened and violently attacked. In the past week, one of the Congolese refugees riding a cab had been denied his change and then stabbed numerous times after the driver discovered he was not South African; I cringed as the man walked right in front of us and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal wounds bandaged all over his back. It was such surreal experience. News stories of the horrific xenophobic attacks, at that particular moment, became a reality … no longer stories we read about in newspapers or see in the screens of our televisions. Everyday, tragic stories coupled with graphic images of bombings in the Middle East, of natural disasters ravishing South East Asia, and now the senseless killing and violence against innocent foreigners in South Africa, flood the media. What seemed like fantasy (to me, at least) became a bleak reality that very day.

The room filled with dejected faces of men, women, and children, as they listened to the Director of Disaster Management speak: "Our hearts bleed with you; but we cannot change the situation." My heart bled to hear him say that, though I knew it was true. Each day at the office, I meet dozens of refugees telling me—often in very timid and soft-spoken voices, but clear and quiet desperation—that they want to return to their home countries. Even to Congo where it is still not safe. And even to Zimbabwe where the economy is facing serious turmoil as a result of its corrupt government. "You are writing down my information but what are you doing to help us?" asked the Congolese refugee who, earlier that night, disclosed that he had witnessed the murder of his father by soldiers in Congo. I did not have an answer for him. How much could I really do as an intern but to register his information and encourage him to stay strong? I could not even reassure him that things will get better. I felt powerless.

Last Friday was "World Refugee Day." Our office together with a number of other agencies, known as the Durban Refugee Service Providers Network, organized an anti-xenophobia forum at City Hall in Durban to educate people around xenophobia and discrimination, and to make it known that South Africa fully supports its refugees. I sat in on a meeting to plan the event a few days prior, and it was exciting to see the program unfold. The forum included a keynote address from he Deputy Mayor of Durban, some really cool — and powerful — poetry/spoken word pieces from two teenagers, a DVD educating about xenophobia, and personal stories of inspiration from refugees. We all wore t-shirts with the engraving "xenophobia" with the "xe" crossed out to read "xe Nophobia" along with orange ribbons to emphasize unity and respect for all foreigners in South Africa.

Although the speeches from the Deputy Mayor and UNHCR representative echoed with messages of hope and better days to come for refugees and for South Africa, a part of me was dissatisfied: to me, the words were political rhetoric, trite platitudes that did not encompass a clear vision and plan of action for the refugees. After encountering numerous clients at Lawyers for Human Rights and hearing their frustrations and personal cries for help, I expected something more concrete. Like the refugees, I needed some sort of reassurance. Tuna sandwich and a cup of orange juice in hand, I walked out of City Hall at the close of the event with so many thoughts lingering in my mind.


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Durban City Hall (an amazing sight up close!)

Outside the steps of City Hall looking out into the city.

First Week in Durban

I woke up on a Tuesday morning eager to begin work, yet unsure of exactly how I would get there. I walked to Devenport Square, a very small shopping center 10 minutes away from my place, where I indulged in a delicious English breakfast—2 sausages, scrambled eggs, a round-shaped hash brown, baked beans, and a perfectly cooked tomato. And all for 30 Rands, which is about 5 USD! I could get used to this every morning. By now, it was 8:30 AM. I began asking passerbys which bus to take to get to the city. Fortunately, I met a white South African man and his wife who generously offered to give me a ride since they were headed in my direction. I know, this sounds rather sketchy, but I tend to think I have somewhat good judgement and instincts (my brothers however, would laugh at my naiveté).

The conversation during the car ride began with a stark warning of safety. They shared examples of friends, who within the span of two weeks, were mugged while driving and of a news story of a family that was drenched in petroleum and forced to collect all jewelry and valuable possessions if they were to remain alive. Perhaps because I'm a foreigner, but everyone I talk to warns me not to venture out at nights. The conversation soon-after shifted to South Africa politics—a topic that many South Africans seem to broach with passion and gravity. “We have very high rates of crime in this country, and to compound that the major issues of HIV/AIDS ... people need to start changing their habits. And the government is not doing much to prevent it,” he said. I listened intently and with great curiosity. I wanted to ask more questions — about their background, about life in South Africa prior to and post-apartheid — but we hit the intersection of Broad and St Andrews so quickly, that I hopped out of the car, thanked them for their incredible hospitality, and rushed across the street to the Diakonia Center where my office was.

I was shocked.

I entered the office to see a room crowded with refugees waiting to be serviced. Recently in the last month, South Africa has seen a spate of xenophobic violence that started in Johannesburg and quickly spread to Cape Town and now Durban. Black South Africans were committing acts of violence against foreigners from Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Congo and other African countries, citing foreign immigrants as further exacerbating an already unstable economy, taking away low-paying jobs and housing. The perpetrators have responded in powerful acts of violence. South African Nobel Prize-winner Desmond Tutu, in a recent speech, compared the impulse behind South Africa’s recent xenophobic attacks to that which led to the Holocaust. This, unfortunately, is a grim and frightening comparison.

Since the attacks began on May 11, thousands of refugees have fled their homes, many living in refugee camps constructed by the U.N., and many desperate to return to their home countries to escape the violence. Our office, an implementing partner of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), provides legal assistance to refugees and migrants in South Africa, most recently focusing on assisting with voluntary repatriation and resettlement of refugees and asylum seekers as a result of the xenophobic attacks. We have been busy with conducting Refugee Status Determination interviews, after which we provide recommendations to the UNHCR on whether the applicants are refugees as defined by South African law and International Conventions. Within a couple days, I found myself assisting refugees with access to the asylum seeker application process, appeals and reviews of rejected asylum claims, and follow ups on Refugee Identity documents. Unfortunately, these processes can take as long as 2 to 3 years. But in a time-crisis such as now, can they afford to wait that long?

Lawyers for Human Rights, nestled within a building with various other NGOs working on human rights issues, is a dynamic office. I have always appreciated and valued diversity, which is particularly salient within the Bay Area in California—with its brilliant mix of cultures from all corners of the world; I like this about Harvard as well, with students from across the U.S. and internationally. My office is comprised of two other American interns (both law students from Washington University),

a South African intern (who is ethnically Indian), an assistant who worked as a attorney in Congo and now helps around the office, and two South African attorneys (one Indian, and the other, Black)—all have been extremely welcoming and friendly. This has been a exciting start to the summer, and I am anxious for the weeks to come.

A Brief Sojourn in England

Before arriving in South Africa, I had a day layover in England where I spent time with relatives from my father’s side of the family—my uncle, aunt, and two cousins, all of whom I met for the first time. It was a nice break before another 10-hour flight. I only spent a day and half in England, but am looking forward to hanging out for another week there prior to my return to the states.

Here is a photo of our trip to the center of London on a beautiful, sunny day, swarming with crowds of people out enjoying the day.