Kwa-Dabeka Clinic
Once a week we go to a clinic with a high population of HIV and TB patients, to hand out food. On Thursday a whole horde of us went – all five Szabos, Tim and Helen, Matt, Siphwe, and me – we handed out soup, apples, and bread. It’s the first time I can say I’ve actually had fun doing this. I don’t hate it, but it’s not one of my favourite projects. But this time I remembered the Zulu word for apple because I had seen it the day before on the crèche wall – it’s “apula” (easy enough, eh?). I used it as I went around offering them to people. The more uncommon words I use (besides the Zulu for hello, how are you?, goodbye, etc.), the more likely people are to think I speak Zulu fluently. I have about 20-25 words/phrases I can use with some degree of competency, but usually that doesn’t include anything relevant to any question or comment someone is actually making. It makes the interactions humorous though.
One guy returned my greeting by asking, “Unjani?” (How are you?) I know the answer to that one, but it took me a good ten seconds to get it out: “Ngiyapila,” I finally said as he laughed at me. I just tapped my head with one finger. Then I asked him a word I’ve been working on. “How do you say ‘you’re welcome’?” I asked him, but he didn’t understand me. I gave it my best go. “Wamkelekele? Am I saying that right?” He laughed and laughed. I wanted to be mean and say, “No soup for you,” but I didn’t know how to say it in Zulu.
Afterward, we went to set up the Mobile BEC outside the Clermont hall. An interesting thing happened when we got there. A brother who lives behind the hall came down the hill and informed everyone that a tree was on fire. I missed this part because I had walked down the road to the tuck shop to buy drinks for us, but I came back to the discussion. The fire department didn’t answer (surprise) and there was no way to get a bucket of water up high enough to put the fire out. Glenn was phoned, to see if he could acquire a chainsaw.
I went up and took some pictures. The tree was hollowed out and still smoldering, with ash dropping on me as I tried to get a good shot. It was poised to fall right on top of the building.
I walked back down to the others and hadn’t been out of the way 30 seconds when we heard a big whoosh. We took off up the hill. It had broken in the best possible spot, higher up on the trunk than it looked like it was going to. It landed on the building but did no perceivable damage.
The most likely theory is that it was a revenge thing, which isn’t uncommon in the townships. There are a couple of possible reasons I’ve heard.
Back down the hill at the BEC, this little boy…
…kept walking by rolling a tire. At some point he acquired a second, and then a third. I had given him a sucker (or lolly or whatever they’re called here) and then I asked, “Hey, do you want me to put you in that and roll you down the hill?” There was a resounding “no!” from the other volunteers. (I was going to make him take the sucker out of his mouth.)
“I’m going to blog about what a killjoy you people are,” I told them. Matt pointed out the history of people being put inside tires in this country (which I wasn’t aware of until the Mandela movie) and instructed me to, “blog that we’re saving you from an international incident.”
I went over and spoke to the little boy several times, and after a while I noticed he kept looking up at me from across the street every time he did something different with the tires, to see if I was watching. I kept offering a thumbs up, but wishing he would finish the sucker already, since he was stacking and climbing and propping the tires against trees and all kinds of fun and dangerous stuff. I yelled to him not to fall and give himself a third nostril, but I don’t think it crossed the language barrier.
Finally I saw that he had climbed inside them as they were stacked, of his own accord, and it was too much to resist. I went over and tried to turn him sideways. Matt hollered at me from across the road, which generally wouldn’t affect my behavior all that much, but he had the backing of a nurse – who was quite adamant that if any head trauma occurred it wouldn’t be on her watch. Sigh. This could have been such a funner day. (I also signed some people up for some correspondence courses, which is what we were there for.)
Here are a couple more pictures from the day:
Early Morning Runs
I’ve been consistently getting up much earlier than usual – between 5:30 and 7:30 – I don’t know how long it will last, but so far the benefits are reinforcing enough to make it fairly easy. I’ve been able to go running or do other exercises, read my Bible and other stuff, and spend time praying. And I’m eating breakfast. This is all good stuff. The best part is my post-exercise lounge on the trampoline with the hadidas scrounging for food nearby. (Zulu word for “hadida” – “amakankane.”
Running in the mornings feels at least 50% safer. There are more people out – mostly maids walking to work – but a lot fewer young men with nothing good to do. There are also a few other runners on the road; not as many as would be in America that time of day, but some. The only scary moment I’ve had was yesterday when I encountered Rick Szabo out on his early morning run. : ) My back still isn’t tolerating it well, but I’m trying to increase a little each day.
Rising early also helps me minimize any nervousness or apprehension about projects. Since I don’t sleep well in general (or at least I have long phases where I don’t – and this is one, despite the hours shifting) getting up and going straight to a project without any time to chill can result in dreading the project, when it’s really not about that at all. I wish I’d figured this out years ago when I used to hate going to school.
Visiting A Kid Whose Name I Can’t Recall
A few weeks ago one of the Lamontville crèche kids was playing on the security gate when it fell on him, breaking his leg. Fast forwarding through some crazy details, Yvette and other volunteers, and sometimes a few of the crèche kids, have been visiting him in his home – where he is recuperating in a body cast – once a week. Today Yvette and I went together. This was the first time I’ve been in one of the homes in the townships. Here are a few pics.
Skype Concert
Last night we had a Skype concert where a lady in England had her students sing songs and our kids from Lamontville and Mariannhill sang back. The kids were troopers throughout technical difficulties.
I took this picture after. I love how it shows the dimensions of the work in our area – kids from the townships, Westville kids, volunteers (huddled together conspiring without me). Admittedly it looks a little segregated here, but there’s really more of an age thing going on. : )
WCF Report
I discovered this on the WCF website:
It made me happy to see my name there alongside people who are making a real difference in people’s lives. I’m looking forward to writing reports (requested every other month from those who are funded by WCF). I wrote one report last time, just for fun since it wasn’t required at that time. It was cool to look back at where I was with my projects at that point:
http://wcfoundation.org/jessica-miller-south-africa-septoct-2013/
Random Thought
For some reason this verse struck me while reading my Bible the other day. 2 Corinthians 7:5 – “For, when we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but we were troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears.” I never remember reading that last part before, but it sums up how I feel – how everybody feels probably – fairly often. The next verse points out the answer – rely on God to provide comfort: “Nevertheless God, that comforteth those that are cast down, comforted us…”
That’s all. Time for coffee, a run, and then Mobile BEC. The high is 81 today – seems like it might be a good beach day later.
[Someone posted this on Facebook the other day and I liked it, so I stole it.]
Next Comes Africa 