Monday, July 09, 2007

New Perspectives

Looking back over the past week, I've done some pretty simple things. However, three months ago I would have been awestruck by them, even just one of them. I don't think I'm becoming used to my daily life in Guguletu, because every day seems to bring some new experiences and understanding. Not to be too cliche about it, but I think I'm learning what true day-to-day life is there, that hardships and helping are just part of the fabric that makes the tapestry of the township.

Last Thursday Rev. Spiwo caught me and told me about his visit to Mkhululi's house the evening before. He hadn't realized how badly they had it, that they had basically nothing in the house for the 8 people to live on. Luli was the only person with a job, and now that he was gone it would be even worse. He asked if I couldn't buy some groceries for them, especially things they'd need to serve visitors paying their respects. So I went out and bought some coffee, tea, sugar, flour, and milk. Mama Nkgo, the head cook at the Centre, also gave me two bags of potatoes and a bag of onions for them. Xolani and I brought it over on Friday morning. Although it was after 8:00, we managed to wake the whole house. As I waited I saw people waking from their mattresses on the floor, scrambling to find clothes to wear. We didn't stay long, as it was obvious we were in the way. I did find out that Luli has a daughter, somewhere around seven years old. I haven't met her yet but probably will soon.

Spiwo also talked to me about the funeral. Because the family has nothing, they will need help paying for the funeral. These costs can run upwards of R10,000 ($1400), including the casket, plot, transportation for guests, and the post-funeral luncheon. As far as I know no one in the family had a funeral plan, so they will be expected to pay the full amount. I plan to help out with those, along with some of the contributions people have given me so far.

The GLA students and I spent two afternoons last week painting the Stormont Madebela school in KTC. I have pictures, but had to loan my memory card to someone today. I'll post them as soon as I can. It was actually fun. We had great weather, with bright blue skies and temperatures in the upper 70s. I also got to witness the "Tom Sawyer effect" in action. Each day we had about 10 local boys show up to paint. I have never seen boys so eager to help, ever (and that includes me at that age). Most had probably never held a paint roller in their lives, but that wasn't going to stop them from painting. I tried to buddy them up with one of the older kids, but after about 10 minutes they were all off on their own, painting the walls and themselves, almost in equal amounts. We put on three coats of paint in two days, and the building looks clean if not exactly perfect. We have two more days there, and we'll be focusing on the insides of a couple classrooms. I hope to be able to give most of the students a bright place to learn, even if they don't have lights or heat (or books or pencils or desks or almost anything else).

On Saturday I spent about an hour with Lydia, previously called Sophie in this blog. I've decided to use her real name because she deserves to have her story told, and she is open about her status. Her son's name is Niwo (nee-whoa). Lydia is having a very tough time right now because of both her health and Niwo's. She was supposed to have some surgery last week to fix a long-standing stomach problem that prevents her from eating well. Unfortunately, she couldn't have the operation because her pre-op blood pressure was extremely high. So high, in fact, that her doctor was surprised that she didn't have a stroke. So, she is back at home waiting for a new date, struggling to eat and stay healthy.

She's also very worried about Niwo. As I mentioned during one of my first postings, he has struggled with his HIV treatment (he failed his first regimen, so now he's on the second and last treatment course) and with seizures (called fits here). His seizures are mostly under control now, but he is starting to fail on the new HIV medicines. His viral load has not responded, which does not bode well for long-term success. He also has some type of lung problem that will require surgery, scheduled for about two weeks from now. The doctors think it's a side effect of the HIV medications, and if surgery doesn't correct it they'll be forced to stop the drugs (which they may have to do anyway if the viral loads don't improve). He looks land acts ike a happy kid - he even played with me on Saturday, when he's never even acknowledged me before - which makes it difficult to imagine his possible future.

Lydia is very depressed. She thinks that Niwo will only live a short time if the HIV drugs are stopped. Her sister and I both tried to tell her that he could live for years without them, but I don't think she believes us. (And to be truthful, I don't really think so either.) She said that she hopes that God takes her first, because a mother should outlive her child. She's also struggling with her older children, a son who doesn't talk to her or support her financially (even though he's working) and a daughter who fights with her more often than not. Although Lydia is living with her sister, she doesn't have a bed of her own and she doesn't have a stable food plan. Her mother lives two doors away but has basically disowned her and doesn't speak with her. (Lydia lived with her mother for a while when she moved to Cape Town from Johannesburg, but her mother didn't feed her or provide any kind of support. She didn't like the fact Lydia was HIV-positive, even though it wasn't her fault.) She wants her own place very much, so much so she asked me for the bungalow that is being used in Barcelona. I don't want to open that can of worms but it may come up sometime soon.

I left Lydia's house very sad and very frustrated. I want so badly to fix things for her, but there really isn't anything I can fix. I gave her some money to buy some groceries, but that was a one-time thing. I can't make her feel better physically, I can't convince her that Niwo will be okay, I can't get her a house of her own, I can't fix her family relationships, and I can't make her happy. I can only be her friend and a shoulder to cry on, and hope that's enough.

Saturday afternoon I spent about an hour with a group of young professionals who found the Centre somehow and want to help. It was my first time representing the Centre by myself, the white American talking about life in the black township to local black people. Even though I felt odd, I think I was the only one who noticed. All of them are in public relations, advertising, marketing or a related field. A couple are very excited about helping us spread our message within South Africa and internationally through magazines and online publications. They also brought several bags of clothes with them, which we will put to good use. I'm excited by the prospects.

Yesterday (Sunday) we had about 100 American visitors from Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. Their Senior Choir has been touring South Africa for the past 10 days with stops in Jo-burg, Durban, Port Elizabeth and elsewhere. They've been supporting JL Zwane for about 15 years and made a special point of visiting the church for a concert. They performed three songs during the Sunday service, including a great rendition of Amazing Grace. We served a finger-food lunch (which I got to put together) from 12:00 until 2:00, and I was happy to see about 30 people from the community there, including a number of the church leadership and key members of the congregation. There was a lot of good discussion, and Spiwo had a short Q&A session with them. At 2:00 they concert started with a chorus made up of Siyaya and another local choir named Sivuyile ("we are happy"). The Bryn Mawr choir sang next, and then all singers combined for the Hallelujah Chorus. It was very first-class and a lot of fun.

So, daily life continues to a balance between extremes - poverty versus affluence, sickness versus health, sadness versus joy. The only difference between now and April is that I realize it's part of daily reality and not a shocking exception to a different norm. I only hope that I continue to be appalled by the disparities and don't learn to accept them.

By the way, you may have noticed a new quote at the top-right of my page. I found this today while I was looking through some public domain books. It just seemed to fit with my trip - that only through sharing and discussion can we really understand each other, and we all deserve to speak and be heard.

More to come.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I agree, Tony. Everyone deserves to speak and be heard. We also have to push through our fear of those who seem different than us, so we can approach them and be approachable. That is hard! You must have to do that nearly on a daily basis. Keep on pushing, dude. Gina