I was walking to work one morning and it was a really beautiful day. I had let my guard down a little and was day dreaming when I noticed a man come out of the bushes on a small path across from me, another man came out of a driveway just in front of me. Neither looked overly menacing - but I took note. My route to work is neither ‘safe’ nor extremely ‘unsafe’ but I am in South Africa and therefore need to be aware of what’s going on. The two walked behind me down the road a ways. I noticed a flower that I have been admiring lately. This particular flower comes out for one day – and one day only and then shrivels up... then a couple weeks later, out they come again one or two at a time. I stopped to admire them, and turned to the men who were watching me and said, “the flowers are very nice,” and kept moving. They were quiet for a moment, then I heard them chatting... one said something and the other responded with “something something flower - nice.” I’m pretty sure the one asked what I had said and the other translated for me. For some reason they didn’t follow me anymore....
I was testing at a very full home with a lot of extended family. When we were leaving I was outside with the children and one woman came up and asked if I had any old clothes that I didn’t need.... She didn’t ask for money, didn’t ask for new clothing, but asked for my old clothes...
I walk into a home and a man says to me, “I like you – because you are here.”
A grandma (who is the sole provider for two grandchildren) was telling me about how she went to the social worker to ask for a food hamper because her hands are so crippled with arthritis that she can’t work. The social worker told her, “I’m sorry, the list for food hampers is full.”... So what happens to those who don’t make the list?
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| You know you're in Africa when.... |
I walk half an hour to work each morning to meet my team and then we set out on foot –usually about another twenty minutes or so. Going door to door we occasionally wander quite far from our starting point. Undoubtedly someone will ask me where my car is. When I shrug and say, “no moto,” the children look really confused and the adults usually look at me with a worried expression and tell the counsellors, “wow, this white girl must be really hard up if she doesn’t have a car!” People think I am absolutely insane to be walking everywhere. I think it actually helps for me to relate to those I’m here to help though. If I were to show up in a car to help, I would just be another white lady in a car. But, I show up with my counsellors with dusty shoes, heavy bags, and sweating and people here can relate to that....
Just like to send a very special shout out to all my co-workers at Mills Memorial - I miss you!
