This story is from a week ago, when Clayton took us to Soweto. We stopped in Kliptown to visit SKY's (Soweto Kliptown Youth) community center. This is one of the poorest sections of Joburg, the housing is all informal. The people live in tin shacks (sheets propped up against each other), there's no running water, the "shops" are part of a room in the houses where you can buy one matchbox at a time (because the average person in the community cannot afford to buy a dozen of them). There is no sewage system, of course - so there are open drains everywhere. There are banks of broken down toilets distributed in the community that are emptied once a week.
As he walked us through the community, showing us around and introducing us to people occasionally, our young guide told us: "Yes, we're a poor community. Thank you for coming to visit us instead of stopping at the bridge, taking pictures and driving away. I do want to tell you one thing: please visit us as friends, because that gives the community hope. We love having visitors. But don't feel sorry for us because we're poor, we're rich in love. We feel sorry for you because you have George Bush as president".
The world is a very small place.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Warm Rain
It's raining in Joburg today. Not too heavy, but the rain brings thunder and lightning with it. It is making the phones unreliable, the traffic is snarled (although that might be a regular feature of Joburg and nothing to do with the rain). Feels like monsoon season at home. I've missed warm rain all the years I have stayed outside India. This brings back many wonderful memories.
Somehow tied up with those memories are reflections on the levels of poverty and need in this country. Again, just like home. I listened today to stories told by 18 and 20 year olds about how they planted kitchen gardens to feed the little kids they were teaching because the local merchants couldn't afford to donate anything to the feeding programs. Conditions here are desperate, and some of the conversations we have with people are wrenching. On the other hand, there is so much hope. It is inspiring to see these young people talk about building their country and "building a better South Africa" and really and truly trying to do something for their country instead of waiting to be helped. I wondered briefly whether this is what the 50s must have felt like in India. Sadly, none of my grandparents are around so that I can ask them.
I stood on my balcony for a long time watching the rain come down. I wonder, but I have no answers.
Somehow tied up with those memories are reflections on the levels of poverty and need in this country. Again, just like home. I listened today to stories told by 18 and 20 year olds about how they planted kitchen gardens to feed the little kids they were teaching because the local merchants couldn't afford to donate anything to the feeding programs. Conditions here are desperate, and some of the conversations we have with people are wrenching. On the other hand, there is so much hope. It is inspiring to see these young people talk about building their country and "building a better South Africa" and really and truly trying to do something for their country instead of waiting to be helped. I wondered briefly whether this is what the 50s must have felt like in India. Sadly, none of my grandparents are around so that I can ask them.
I stood on my balcony for a long time watching the rain come down. I wonder, but I have no answers.
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