On Sunday I visited Imbali, a Zulu township in KwaZulu-Natal that was founded in the early 1960s when people moved to urban areas in search of work. I went there with Rachel, a colleague of my girlfriend’s, who volunteers a few hours each week to teach art to kids who live in a section of the township known as Unit J.
Sunday was movie day. About 38 kids showed up for popcorn that Rachel and I popped and bagged in individual white paper bags. Just like a movie theater, which is something most of these kids have never experienced.
Most also have little sense of the world beyond their township. Rachel decided to show them the “Congo” installment of Africa, the television series produced by the BBC and the Discovery Channel. “I decided that even if my class is unable to fully grasp the size of the world, I want them to know that there is more to it than Imbali J,” she wrote recently.
The theater was in a garage where the art class meets. For movie day Rachel brought along her MacBook and a projector, which she aimed at an old sheet that hung inside the door.
While Rachel set up the room, the kids and I took turns introducing ourselves. “Ubani igmalakho,” we asked each other, Zulu for “What’s your name?” I offered some kids my notebook and pen so they could write their names in it. One girl and boy proudly showed me their ability to write the alphabet in uppercase and lowercase script.
Rachel divided the kids into two groups and asked one girl to pass out the bags of popcorn as the kids entered the theater one-by-one.
The girl was a terrific usher. She showed all the kids to their seats. Most of the moviegoers waited until showtime to open their popcorn.
Rachel dimmed the lights and stood at the front of the theater, where she asked some of the kids to help her hold up a map of Africa. “Where is South Africa?” she asked the group. A few kids pointed to the bottom of the continent. “Today we’re watching a video of the Congo,” Rachel added. “Does anyone remember where the Congo is?”
Again, a few kids pointed. “It’s here,” said Rachel. “A big jungle. What animals are in the jungle?” The kids buzzed. “How about gorillas?” Rachel inquired. “Watch the animals. Afterward, I’m going to ask you what animals you saw.”
Rachel started the video. The kids opened their popcorn. “What is that?” Rachel asked as a chimpanzee tried to extract honey from a bees’ nest. “A monkey,” a few kids answered. “What is he eating?” she added. “Honey.”
As our tour of the Congo jungle continued, the kids chattered continuously. Eventually, Rachel paused the video about midway through so they could go outside, where as if on cue a truck from a ministry showed up with lunch. The kids queued in the sunshine for curry over rice that the people from the ministry scooped from a green bucket into clamshell-shaped plastic containers.
The movie resumed with the audience about half of what it was at the start. By the time the video showed a gathering of elephants in the forest, about 17 kids remained. Some disassembled a jigsaw puzzle on the floor while others sat quietly. Some came in and out of the garage. “No more in and out,” Rachel told them.
At the end of the film, some kids took to the blackboard wall, where they drew pictures of elephants and chimpanzees. They had been paying attention. One girl drew a likeness of Rachel, or “Rechel,” as the girl wrote above the drawing.
Other kids streamed out into the late-afternoon sunlight, carrying their containers of curry.
Most days Tala and Juma, my girlfriend’s Rhodesian Ridgebacks, and I head to a farm about a half kilometer from home. We walk along a winding red dirt road that takes us to a pond, where Tala likes to swim.
