Jul 26, 2010 | South Africa, Stories
Hero Hubs and I live in a nice and safe security complex here in Gordon’s Bay. Most of the people who own property here only use it for a month or so out of the year. Most of the people who do live here all year long probably rent. Like us. You guys have seen pictures…it’s a pretty little neighbourhood, regardless of how long you’re hanging around. The Bear and I often enjoy a stroll around the harbour, him on his car, me toting along a snack I’m pretending is for him that I’m actually eating while hoping no one sees… and sometimes going for a walk here feels like a brief holiday.
But beneath the surface of our pretty wee neighbourhood, there are things that really get under my skin.
See, there’s this gardener, who I would like to call… James. He covers the grounds of most of the complex, works hard, takes the rubbish up on Mondays for pickup, is kind and friendly, and goes out of his way to help when he can. Once when the water was out in Gordon’s Bay, HH crossed the street to buy a big jug at Pick n’ Pay (the one where I got those magical pictures so cheap.) I ran into James when I carried some trash downstairs to the bins in the basement parking and mentioned that we had water if he wanted to come up and get some. Within minutes he was at our door and we filled a big bottle for him to take with him. And I realised if we hadn’t offered him water, he probably would’ve gone without it for that entire ridiculously hot and sunny day.
We had a tough day a few weeks ago that you might’ve recognised if you were following along with the comments of this post. I was especially upset because there are some ladies who keep the floors and windows of the complex clean, and a while back one of them was pregnant. I would like to call her Beatrice. Beatrice was off for a while, and we assumed she’d had her baby and was taking some leave. Then she was back at work, her smiling, friendly self again but we’d only seen her in passing and not had the opportunity to speak.
On this particular day, HH and I were having dinner and he shared that when he was out for an errand earlier he’d given Beatrice a ride to the taxi rank. He asked how the baby was doing and she shared the news that the baby had died. The doctors said it was of natural causes and she didn’t really know why it had happened.
I can only assume poverty, poor sanitation, perhaps even lack of education played a roll.
But all the pictures of Beatrice smiling and playing with the Bear and waving to him as he strolls by suddenly whooshed past my mind in one big tidal wave and I was a mess of tears and could hardly finish my meal. HH apologised for upsetting me (which was certainly an unnecessary apology). A few days later I tried to tell her how sorry I was, and I felt like a blubbering mess.
Our dinner continued as HH shared that he’d had a conversation with James where he discovered that James makes 350 Rand per week. That is less than 50 US dollars. Including toiletries and diapers, I probably spend almost double that just for a week’s worth of groceries. And we don’t eat none too high on the hog. He probably only has 300 Rand left after paying for transport to get to work.
Here are the reasons I struggle not to be enraged by this. James works for a company that is contracted in to keep the grounds of our friendly secure Pleasantville tidy and green. He has asked the homeowner’s association (made up of some people who live here all year and some who don’t) to consider paying him directly instead of paying the company, but they aren’t interested. They would rather the paperwork be outsourced, I’m sure. So it’s likely that someone is making good money off James’s back, while he fights to make ends meet with a family of four.
Why doesn’t James find another job? might be your first question. Because This is Africa. Unemployment is currently at three gabillion percent. I’ve already told you that we pass guys by the dozen waiting for work on the side of the road day in and day out. A sorry job is better than no job.
A couple weeks ago James’s bike was stolen. That probably means he has to pay extra taxi fare (and taxi fare is HIGH) just to get to work at this poor-paying job on time every day. HH and I have been hoping to find a deal somewhere so that we can bless him with another bike. But sometimes it just feels like that’s not enough.
The trouble is, if my outspoken, overprotective American self tries to speak up for James, I wonder if he might be out of a job for it.
But how far down does the rabbit hole go? How many millions of millions are in these situations? The people who made the shoes you’re wearing? The people who harvested the coffee for our morning lattes? Or just the guy who keeps the grounds tidy for the people who ride by in their Mercedes and Ferraris?
And even if he’s the only one…isn’t he worth fighting for?
xCC
*Tomorrow, before anyone starts to slay me, or in case there are concerns, I’ll explain why I’m not a communist.
Jul 18, 2010 | South Africa
There are few people that inspire me to tears like Nelson Mandela. Long before my feet called the red dirt of South Africa home, my heart had deep respect and admiration for this most famous South African. A legend in his own time, Madiba took the long walk to freedom and showed the world how forgiveness is lived, how truth and reconciliation are chosen and embodied. He has walked paths of peace, when most would feel entitled to wage war. And that our world is celebrating and honouring such a figure, such an example, has a world of meaning to me. He is indeed a hero worth celebrating.
Nelson Mandela was born on July 18, 1918 in Transkei, South Africa. “Madiba” is the name of the Xhosa Tribe from which Mandela comes, and it is considered an honour to refer to someone by the name of their tribe. After spending 27 years in prison under the Apartheid government in South Africa, Madiba emerged to reconcile with the very people group that oppressed him all those years. He led the nation to a peaceful resolution as the era of formal segregation in South Africa finally came to an end.
In 1993, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, and in 1994 he was elected the first president of a new, democratic South Africa. The eyes of the world watched and waited for hostility and violence in those days, but they were surprised by a demonstration of peace. His work to reconcile a nation fraught with such a challenging past pointed the new South Africa toward a bright and glorious future. The 2010 FIFA World Cup has shone a light on the vibrant, new South Africa, and we hope the world has taken notice. Madiba is a man of faith and a man of character, and I hope that I’m one of the millions who are overjoyed that the world will be considering him, every July 18th, hopefully for generations to come.
On a visit to London in 2008, Mandela said:
“Where there is poverty and sickness, where human beings are oppressed, there is work to be done. Our work is for freedom for all. After 90 years of life, it is time for new hands to lift the burdens. It is in your hands now.”
Amen.
Samaritan’s Feet South Africa has dedicated its two most recent shoe distributions to the honour of Madiba on Mandela Day. We hope that by sharing photos that demonstrate the difference something as simple as a pair of shoes can make, we will inspire others, in the spirit of Madiba, and for the glory of God, to take the 67 minute challenge, and do something to make a difference in the lives of others.
We know that one man has the power to change the world. The question is: Will you accept the challenge to change yours?
Our “Mandela Day” photos will be posted in the News at Samaritan’s Feet South Africa. (www.samaritansfeetsa.com) But of course, I’ll give you a few highlights here, too!
Proudly South African.
The hardest part of every Shoes of Hope distribution…the demand always exceeds the supply.
A very good improvement for winter in South Africa…
This precious little girl arrived in a pair of mismatched, oversized flip flops.
Click over to Samaritan’s Feet South Africa to see how she departed!
May you find inspiration today, to make a difference in the world around you.
xCC
Jul 6, 2010 | South Africa, Travel..ling Tuesdays
Do you remember that scene in Elf where Will Ferrell runs into the conference room and bursts out with the exclamation: “I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it!”? Okay, maybe not, but if you can picture it, that’s how enthusiastic I feel about sharing with you that the World Cup Distributions got off the ground last week. Shoes cleared Customs. Shoes were unpacked (some of ’em though, not all of ’em.) Lots of little faces lit up and lots of feet received some much needed protection. Don’t forget, it is winter here! I can’t believe all the bare feet I’m seeing in winter!
I’ll be creating an album with lots of captions and more pics on Samaritan’s Feet South Africa’s Facebook Fan page, so be on the lookout right here. And go “like” us if you haven’t already! Uh, you like us, right?
In the meantime, here are some highlights from the beginning of an exciting time for us … on one special, chilly, lovely day outside Cape Town.
I have to mention here that this little girl was THRILLED when she discovered that her brand new shoes LIGHT UP!
I had some great conversations with some of the regular staff who see these children a few times a week. I was reminded that even though some of these kids had some semblance of a pair of shoes before, for many of them this might be the first new thing they’ve ever been given. For the staff workers these distributions present an opportunity to get to know the kids better one on one. One staff member shared with me that she overheard two little boys taking another aside and saying “Do not let your mother take your shoes!” She was glad to have overheard this, to be able to keep an eye on the boy and remember this during future home visits.
It’s hard to not know what the future holds for these kids (that thought continually struck me during this distribution), but we keep praying that the seeds that are planted — of hope, of faith, of belief that better things are still to come — will grow in these little hearts and multiply a hundredfold.
Hope your week is off to a great start. From my tugged and stretched heart to yours, Happy Tuesday.
xCC
Jul 5, 2010 | South Africa, Stories
My fingers are back to clickety-clacking my Mac (and I missed you guys) but it was really good to sit still and enjoy my brother’s visit as much as possible. My mind is continually stirring with new things to share with you, and I also have some great photos for you to enjoy, but I thought I’d give you a few highlights to enjoy for now. And, man did that trip go by quick! My Mom arrives NEXT MONTH and I’m glad she’ll be here two weeks!
We started out one day at the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town, and then took a taxi down for a stroll at super-posh Camps Bay. The Bear got sandy like it was a personal mission, and I enjoyed seeing him play with Uncle Russ.
What you can’t tell from that photo that you can tell from this next one is that, once again, the Bear is severely gutted that he isn’t going to go for a swim today.
But he still had fun.
See?
One little Bear even learned how to swing!*
*With a 98% rate of success, and one big fat I-let-go-bruise on his forehead.
We also enjoyed some lekker good eats… (in some lovely settings)
While peacocks coveted the Bear’s good eats…
And although there are more stories to tell, and some great pictures from our very first World Cup Distribution, which finally happened Thursday, let it suffice for now to say that in this moment…
(the goodbye at the airport) how the Bear looks is how I really felt. And I managed to wait till the car to really ugly cry.
We’ll hold on to the souvenirs and the memories… (yes, before the sun was up, the Bear was up looking for his special official FIFA World Cup soccer ball today, which he proceeded to hold onto all morning)
And I will prayerfully and hopefully look forward to being together again soon.
Thank you for visiting, Russ and Erin! It was a joy and a blessing to have you! Now come back when you can stay longer! 😉
xCC
Jun 30, 2010 | Prayers in Poetry & Prose, South Africa, Stories
A comment someone made the other day made me think you guys might like to hear a little more about what it’s like to live life here in SA, at least for the Collie family. The thought reminds me of the moment in the movie Amelie when Amelie decides to walk the blind man quickly down the street and tell him what she sees. He’s so thankful for someone else to see for him. If I were to walk you down the street of our days, these are some things I would probably mention.
On the way to the gym we stop for diesel. (Mr. Potato Head is a diesel potato, you know.) We used to go to the nearby BP before we discovered the cheaper diesel place just a little further down the road. We would often see a station attendant called Miemie at the BP. (Pronounced Mee-mee) He lives in a nearby township. His skin is light and his eyes are piercingly pale. He sees the Bear in the backseat and always waves and says “Hello Tiny Bubbles!†while the diesel hums along to fill Potato’s big tank.
Miemie’s wife just had a baby. We offer to bring him baby clothes and things the Bear isn’t using anymore, but he says lots of people have been bringing him things. Though his mother only lives a few miles away, the baby was four months old before she met him. Being far away from family hits home for me, but the fact that four miles is an insurmountable distance tugs at my heart.
We take the Beach Road (Kusweg) from our flat to the gym and watch people out walking on the beach with dogs and babies and friends as we roll over speed bumps and pass women selling newspapers. Table Mountain is across the bay and on clear days you can see all the way to Cape Point. When the sun’s shining the other side of the bay seems close enough to swim to. We pass a coffee shop called De La Creme that I want to visit sometime. It’s decorated in a 50s-60s Americana sort of theme; Elvis and Marilyn Monroe posters, inviting you inside. As we bumble along we sometimes see planes heading to the airport against the backdrop of the mountain. Lots more planes than usual lately.
Our gym is the nicest gym at which I’ve ever had a membership. There’s a beautiful big pool and a separate pool for water aerobics. Almost every piece of cardio equipment in the CV area has its own TV. We often do the circuit and wish other people would pay attention to the instructions and lights and move along in an orderly fashion. It is a strange feeling sometimes…the wealth and poverty that entertwine so closely here. I smiled at one of the ladies cleaning the sinks as I went into the potty a while ago. When I came out she asked for a job for her sister. I felt really uncomfortable because I didn’t know what to say. We have a lady who helps with the cleaning once every two weeks and we don’t exactly have the funds for that, but we are glad to forego something else in the budget to give someone work. I regretted not having any suggestions for the cleaning lady’s sister.
Sometimes we rent a DVD on the weekend. There are two little boys who look like brothers who beg outside the store. I am sad whether I have something to give them or not, because I wonder if they are begging instead of going to school. I saw the little one in the parking lot at the grocery store down the street the other day. Seeing the familiar face of a stranger is sometimes just plain strange.
At one stoplight for a long time, there was a nice and large lady with a brilliant smile. Her “spot†was always just outside a lovely golf living estate that stretches on and on, called Greenways. Her daughter sat on the edge of the plant bed which sat in front of one of the Greenways signs outside the gate. It seemed like her daughter had a mental disability but I wasn’t sure what it was. She was there begging day after day and she began to recognize us. My heart ached if we didn’t have anything to give. I began to think about learning to knit so that I could teach her. If she had a skill, a trade, surely she’d be better off? If she could knit scarves to sell? Before I had a chance to think it through or buy knitting needles, we passed by one day. As the change clinked in her ceramic cup, she joyfully declared “We are going home to Zimbabwe! Good bye dear friends, God bless you!â€
Those words broke my heart. It felt like I’d missed a chance. I wasn’t sure how things would be better for her in Zim. I wished I’d had the opportunity to do more.
After the gym, we sometimes stop at a nearby grocery store. Some days they give away samples, and I’m glad because it distracts the Bear for at least five minutes. He tries new cookies and Pink Lady apples with equally happy appreciation. I stroll the aisles and sometimes still marvel at how expensive things seem to be here. I wonder how people who make so little make ends meet.
An older gentleman who always wears a hat sits on a big cement block, or if it’s taken, sometimes a brick turned on its end, in the grassy area that runs between our complex and the road. Every day we pass by and I smile. He hasn’t smiled back yet, but I keep trying. I want to bring him cookies or banana bread the next time I bake some.
The security gate closes behind us and the security guard on duty in the booth stretches his hand high to say hello. For a little while, we escape the poverty and sights that tug at my heartstrings. But tomorrow is always a fresh battle. A fight not to grow cold…a fight to give, to at least pray, to smile and believe: tomorrow is a fresh opportunity to give, to love, to smile.
xCC
Jun 29, 2010 | South Africa, Travel..ling Tuesdays
While waiting for Uncle Russ and Erin to arrive, we enjoyed the excitement of World Cup Fever at Cape Town airport. And we sure did document it for you to enjoy it, too! Happy Tuesday!
These vuvuzela-laden, aptly-dressed kids are obviously ready for some World Cup action. But what are they looking at?
It’s a delightfully “African” band, welcoming international arrivals to Cape Town and the World Cup. (And singing songs that mention Bafana Bafana {South Africa’s team!} and lilt along Welcome to Ah-free-cahhh…).
They were kind enough to let the Bear enjoy the fun! He is apparently a budding musician.
But if you buy him a drum set, I. Will. Hurt. You. Don’t you love that one of the musicians is dressed as a soccer player?
Check out this cool instrument which has an African name I couldn’t pronounce, let alone spell.
The Bear thinks it’s interesting too. I suppose you can get him one of those. They are lyrical and peaceful.
If you make it down here, FIFA is ready to welcome you!
And the minute your plane touches down, you’ll be seeing flags. Everywhere.
I’d never seen so much lovely decor at an airport. Not even in Dubai!
Okay, except that the big black trash bags are kind of pretty darn visible. And they kind of feel like creepy shrines to a nonexistent soccer god.
Before I sign off you must enjoy this last moment that I wish we’d better documented. One of the band members taught the Bear how to dance to the music!
“Ashley” as the band member called him, is a very good dancer and a clever boy indeed! 🙂
My brother and Erin are visiting a game reserve overnight, so I had a brief moment to give you an update and a Travelling Tues! Hope you enjoyed it and that your week’s off to a great start! We are enjoying our visitors and can’t wait for them to get back, but I have a special stroll in the queue for you tomorrow. Even though Ashley isn’t featured, I think you’ll enjoy it!
xCC
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