The Community Stay

I sit here watching an amazing seventeen year old boy focus as he draws a picture for an advertising project for his english class. This is day two of my community stay. I have enjoyed every minute of it; well, except for the fact that I forgot my toothbrush.
I have been lucky enough to have been placed in the home belonging to my friend B. Not 10 minutes will pass P in front of the house without me marveling at how this 17 year old boy has become an adult so quickly.
This Journey began on Monday afternoon. I am warmly greeted by B. We enter his home and he graciously shows me around and shows me where I will sleep. I have been to the house before so I know what to expect; however I am still a bit taken a back every time I visit. It’s a one room brick house; must be 45 ft X 15 ft. Only a card board divider that B has made separates the kitchen/living area from the bedroom.

B in the bedroom : B entering the house/kitchen
I notice quickly that B has rearranged the two beds he and his two brother’s share. I am sure it was for be benefit and just like the other times I have been to the house, it’s extremely neat and tidy.
In the kitchen, a jug for water that we use for drinking and washing which we collect from a tap down the road. There are also two old chairs and a broken stool with a small table. On a small table in the corner are two pots on a very old stove top with one workable burner that B made from old parts. Next to the small table top stove is a kettle used to boil water for cooking and bathing and a small amount of food; oil, tea,

sugar, and half a bag of Mili Maze (the staple food here). Under the table is an old card board box filled with a few dishes; that’s it. If I hadn’t walked in the door with a big box of food for my visit, I wonder what they would have eaten.
As I take a look around, I can tell that something lese is on B’s mind. He then tell me “I have soccer practice, do you want to come with me”? I say yes and we start to walk to the field. On the way, we pass the house of on of the youth leaders who I helped teach better choices with last year. She now has a six month old beautiful baby boy; she is 16. As we continue walking, I get some odd looks from the all black community. When we arrive at the field I see it’s just a patch of partially removed dirt. B explains that the field was in the middle of being constructed for a school just down the road. I can tell from the length of the grass that it has been a long time since any work had been done on it.
I decide to watch the practice from a branch of a big dead tree on the edge of the field. As I sit there, watching the practice, a young girl notices me. She is on her way back to her wooden shack of a home. I smile; she smiles back and then she just stands there watching me. She talks back and forth with her family members of in the distance at her house but she just stands there watching for about five minutes. She then starts walking back but not before throwing a few more glances in my direction.
A few more boys from the team show up including one of the guys from the Forward Education after school program named Never. He tells me that I should come down and play. I do, and as I start to play I realize that practice is just keep away. There are two teams, but again, the flied is not finished. So, we just play keep away. We play until the sun goes down and then walk home.
When we arrive, me meet up with P, B’s younger brother. As many of you know, the youngest brother M is still at the initiation camp. After quickly changing, B starts cleaning the pots using a small brush while P is outside cleaning a few dishes. We then have a visitor; Patrick who lives next door with one of the guys on the Hands at Work construction team. Patrick gets up every morning at 4:30 am to catch the bus to White River, the nearest town, to do a construction job.
Patrick’s roommate from Hands at work is away because his father has passed away. Patrick will be staying with us because he is afraid to stay by himself at night because of the frequency of break-ins.

From Left: me, B, P, and patrick : Eating pap and cabage stew
We then go through the box of food. Obviously we will be eating pap (mili-maze), but we will also cook something to go with it. Pap is very dense like a very thick poorag so people usually eat it with a small amount of stew. You take the pap in your hand, put it in the stew, and then eat it with your hands.
Obviously, B knew how to make the pap, however the combination of the four men in the room where stuck on how to make a good stew. We were able to combine our talents and come up with a recipe containing soya mince with gravy, some vegetables, and a small can of fish. All things considered, it was fairly tasty. I sat on the floor while the others sat on the three chairs.
B and I have become fairly close, so after supper he was very keen to show me all of the pictures and certificates he has collected over the years including his fathers I.D. card. B’s mother ran off on the boys when they were very small. Their father raised them until he died in 2002. As we were looking at the I.D. card, B told me a bit about his story. While his father was very sick, B would wake up at 4:00 am everyday before school to do the house chores. he would then go to school and have to come home part way through the day to check on his father’s condition before walking back to school; B was 11. As mentioned previously, B’s father died when he was 12 and he has been raising his brother ever since in this small one room house where the kitchen/living area is separated from the bed room by a card board divider which B made.

After supper, it’s time for exercise. B has made his own bench press. He has taken a metal rod and put each end in a bucket full of cement to harden; it’s fairly heavy. We both do some weight lifting African style before going to bed. As I sleep in the double bed with P, Patrick on the floor, and B in the single bed, we talk about Canada, South Africa and their differences and similarities. B asks question after question about Canada; he is so keen to know what it’s like.
As I lye in bed, I start to understand the realities of this place. As mentioned, Patrick stays with us because he is too afraid to stay alone. B explains that thieves will cut the electricity lines to large

portions of the community so they are not seen. They will then break into peoples stands (homes) while they sleep. These break-ins often end up in violence. B explains that if people in the community find the thieves, they will beat them to death. They don’t bother to call the police and even if they do come, the community will force them away threatening to beat them as well.
B’s home has been broken into a couple times while he was out and just this past week he noticed someone took money from his place. I feel much better knowing we have locked the windows and put B’s bench press up against the thin wooden door.
I don’t get much sleep that night as P seems to think I am his teddy bear. Also, the dozens of stray dogs and chickens bark and chirp all night. However, I have survived my first night in the community.

This is not right

We are all such selfish greedy people. I think until we walk in the shoes of those we are called to support and hurt as they hurt, we will not care for them to the fullest extent of our capabilities. Although it was for a very short time, I have suffered as B suffers; I have experienced the problems that B encounters everyday.
On my last day in the community, I could feel his desperation. He is so worried about his brother and wants him to return home safely. While I was out that day, the leader of the camp told B that it was going to cost 800 Rand (about $120) for his brother’s camp stay. B receives R1000 a month in child grants from the government. He said he must pay it. I then ask him how he will pay for food. He responds by saying, “I don’t know.”
We decide to go to the bank machine to see if his uncle has given him the grant money for the month; he has not. As we stand their talking about the situation, we don’t grad his card out of the machine right away and the ATM sucks it back in; gone. B has hit rock bottom.
He says “I try and solve one problem, and another problem happens.”
Later that night after our meal, B is washing up and out of the blue he says to me, “sometimes I wish all me problems would disappear.” I respond by saying, “A lot of people wish their problems would disappear. You just have adult problems that a seventeen year old boy should not be dealing with.” He responds with a simple, “ya.”
As I was in the middle of this situation and looking back at the experience, I keep thinking over and over in my mind “this is not right;” it’s that simple. This should not be happening and this is not right.
M is now back home safely. One of the youth leaders went with B to pay the leader of the camp and convinced him to reduce the price to R350. I was able to ask people up at the farm where I stay to donate money for the camp fee and I was able to raise the full amount. B has also received the money from his uncle (although his uncle keeps some every month) and he has also received a new bank card. I saw B today and he was so happy and relieved. For now, his problems have been solved. However, there will undoubtedly be more problems that will occur and more problems that a 17 year old boy should not have to solve.

Dave, Jimmy, & Racism

The last week has been a bit of a mess. A lot has transpired over the last little while. As many of you now know, Lynn and Jayme Chotowetz (the founders of Forward Education) are back in Calgary. They have decided to come home early to work out some personal things and to start to think about what lies next for them in terms of Africa and the coming years.
Needless to say, this has rushed my transition into Forward Education. It was a busy week as I learned about the budget and our financial situation which is a bit intimidating. Thankfully, Laura Pope from Calgary, and an American women named Lindsay have been working with me. With out them, especially Laura, I would me in deep trouble. I am truly thankful that she has decided to stay and help me run this program. We are currently in the midst of filling out university and college applications for the students. It’s a very busy time, however an exciting one because we will soon find out how the students hard work has paid off. I do feel bad for Lynn and Jayme right now because they are having to leave at a time when the fruits of their labor will soon me known. This is the time they have worked so hard to be a part of.
On a lighter note, I, along with a friend from Connecticut, Dave, rented a car and drove to Johannesburg to go see Jimmy Eat World play. It was a good day but the concert was not very entertaining. It was a full day concert event and for some reason Jimmy Eat World didn’t headline the show and they only had a 45 minute set. Plus, the South African crowd was lame. They just kinda stood there and watched. One guy got upset with someone who was jumping around and getting into it; it was weird. Plus, at the merch counter, the guy was writing receipts for people. What the hell is up with that?
One interesting part of the day happened while Dave and I were in the beer gardens. I asked someone for a lighter and as I did, a white Afrikaner noticed my North American accent. We started having a conversation and I quickly noticed he was a bit drunk. He then noticed I hadn’t received a free foam hand that they gave at the gate of the concert. He said that I could have his. I responded by saying “thanks, I guess am experiencing South Africa’s generosity. He responded by saying “Ya, well I have to be generous because you won’t experience it very much because of all the black’s that we have here.” I have heard from other people about the blatant racism that they have listened to from some Afrikaners but this is the first time I had really heard it so unconcealed. You are just shocked. You can’t believe that someone you have just met would be that bold. I wanted to punch the guy in the face but quickly changed my mind when I realized that Dave and I were slightly out numbered. The political structure of Apartheid may have been abolished but it’s going to take a few decades before the ideological construct is dismantled because it is still alive and well.
Sorry this blog post isn’t very interesting, however on Monday I will be living in the community of Masoyi for five days. It is now a requirement that Hands at Work staff spend a week in the community living with in a child headed house hold to get the full experience of what life is like of the orphans that we work with. I have been lucky enough to have been placed with M and B from my previous blog posts. I think M will still be at the initiation camp, however I will still be with B and his other younger brother P. I am sure I will have more interesting stories from that experience.
Finally, for those of you have been sending me messages and emails, Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to hear from all of you. Internet access has been a bit of a pain this week, but I will try and write to you all as soon as I am back from my community stay.
I miss you all and hope you are well.

Equality Through Chucks

We took this picture a few weeks back. This is one of the Forward Education students, Stanley. During a break in class one time, I noticed Stanley wearing a pare of white Chuck's. I then noticed I was wearing a pair of black one's. I said to Stanley "Hey we are ending racism through our shoes." He said "ya man, black and white coming together." We are changing the world one pair of Chuck's at a time.

M Part 2

The next afternoon, I picked up B and we drove to the hospital. On the way, the conversation was minimal. I don’t think either of us knew what to expect. As we got out of the car at the hospital, B asked me, “what do I ask, where do I go?” I was once again reminded that I was with a 16 year old. He was still a boy himself and was still learning simplistic adult experiences.
We eventually figured out where to go and we walked through a couple of children’s wards before finding M. As I walked through the children’s ward, I experienced very dark feelings: a sense of fear and of disparity. There have only been a couple occasions when this certain intensity has happened to me in Africa, and this was one of them. All of the children were so tiny, and some were crying. The hospital is dirty and run down. Old paint, worn beds and a dirty floor. By one of the sinks next to the children’s bed I noticed a large cockroach-shaped bug crawling in the sink.
As we walked along, B signaled that he saw M. And there he was: asleep in his hospital attire, in his small bed, nothing else. I couldn’t help but imagine the boredom and loneliness he must have gone through over the past five days. B gently woke him and when he saw his older brother’s tears, started streaming from M’s eyes. I tried to comfort him by rubbing his back and telling him that we were here to take care of him and that we were going to keep him safe. Later M told B that he was getting very afraid that no one would come for him because other parents and relatives had come to see the other children.
B and I decided that we would go talk to the nurse about the situation. We informed her about the situation and that B was his older brother and was the only one that should take M home. B did not want M to go back to the camp and M did not want to return either. M was very afraid because the man from the camp said he was going to come back to see him. B and I then decided to go get M some food and something to keep him busy.
When we returned, M seemed in better spirits and was even more excited as we showed him the coloring and puzzle books we had got him. As we started taking items out of the bag, other children noticed this and started to surround M. He was making friends very quickly. B and I then decided that we would come back the next morning to hopefully talk with the doctor. M needed surgery and we wanted to find out when this would take place and when he would be discharged.
The next day, I along with B, and two others: Carly, a women from Australia, and Jabulila, a Masoyi resident and child care volunteer, went to visit Maxwell. On the ride up, B informed me that his uncle and a leader of the camp stopped by his house to inform him that M needed to return to the camp when he was out of the hospital. I could tell B was very upset by this.
When we got their, M seemed better. But, after a short discussion, M told us he was very afraid because the man from the camp was supposed to return that day. M became very upset and started to cry. This affected B and I could see he was struggling with the situation of seeing his little brother in such fear and pain. I then put my arm around him and we both started to weep. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I cannot imagine what these two boys have dealt with over the past four years alone and parentless. For B to cry, I knew the situation was bad.
B had to go to school, so it was decided that Jabulila and I would stay incase the man from the camp decided to stop in for a visit.
At this point, I had a chance to observe the other children. Next to M, on the left, was a young boy with two swollen black eyes and a contusion in his head. How does that happen? On the other side was the cutest little girl (must have been two) with a huge burn on her arm.
I would guess half, if not more, of the children in this ward were burn victims. As I thought why this was, it hit me. It was another strange but tragic result of AIDS. These children had to make fire and use paraffin to cook and keep warm. Their parents were gone and couldn’t do this for them, so the children are forced to grow up too quickly and are not taught how to develop these skills safely. Concerning AIDS, we are all infected or affected.
As Jab’s and I waited, two other ladies from Hands at work came: Ma Flo, the director of Masoyi Home Based Care, and Enercy, a youth director at one of the day orphanages.
Miraculously, after only a few minutes, a group of doctors came in and I was able to ask about M. They said that he would be discharged that day! The doctors had to wait until the wound had healed over before they could perform surgery. So, unfortunately he would have to return at a later date.
We would also have to take M back the hospital on Monday to deal with a chronic eye problem he has had since we was young.
M and a couple other children who were also being discharged became so excited and bounced around the room. We then left leaving M behind. He would have to be picked up later in the afternoon because he had no clothing.
When we got back, Ma Flo called B about the situation and also phoned B’s uncle. Ma Flo decided that the next step was up to the family. Unfortunately, as mentioned, the uncle wanted M to return to them camp. However, Ma Flo was right - this was a family issue. Although I was nervous and wanted to lend support, it was not my place. It is just such a travesty. B is his brother’s care giver. His uncle rarely visits the boys and I felt this was B’s decision. Unfortunately, he is only 16 years old.
Ma Flo and Jabulila then left to go pick up B and his uncle. They were then going to talk about the situation and go get M to bring him home.
For now, he is at home and he is safe. It was decided that M will not return to the camp until after the surgery. At this point, it is unknown how long he will have to go to the camp: could be a day, a week, or possibly longer. The hospital has put me and Jab’s in charge of M’s wellbeing during this time so I will keep you up to date.
Please pray for B and his two brothers.
This is not a story; it is life, it is reality. Please remember that. This is one of the millions of realities across sub-Saharan Africa and they all involve real people.
We are either infected or affected. I encourage all of you who read this to remember that YOU are affected by this.

P.S. I just received word about an hour ago that the people from the camp came and took M back to the camp yesterday. He will likely have to be there for a week. Please keep him in your thoughts.