Monday: a day of contrasts

We had a wonderful dinner last night with NJ and Matt. NJ’s story is interesting: he was born in the US to South African parents who were living in exile in New York as his father was a political activist. He grew up in New York until they returned to SA in 1995 after the first “free and fair” elections here. NJ says he defies all notions of what a black man from America should be: he is well-spoken, in his words “not ghetto.” His university degrees are in media (journalism & advertising), law and performing arts. His hope is to go to the US to act…probably New York or LA, but we’ve tried to convince him of the thriving Minneapolis arts scene. Perhaps his 11 new friends from Minnesota will be there to host him?!

So we began Monday with another nice breakfast (options of cold meats, hard boiled eggs, cheeses, fruit, yogurt, porridge and made to order eggs with bacon, fried tomatoes and mushrooms) and then we were off to see Edwin at the JL Zwane Community Center in Guguletu (pictured). Another test of my driving skills and Marc’s navigation skills…we found it with no problem (thank you for the directions, Jane!). Edwin met us, showed us the Center and we talked for a long time there about the needs of the community, and what I wish for us to see when the students come to stay. Edwin was so gracious and funny and demonstrates a dedication and heart for the community that was inspiring.

Edwin showed us around and I was so grateful to have a chance to see this with Marc, as I am sure I would not be able to describe it to him later. A few statistics Edwin gave us: of the 360,00 residents, 67% are unemployed and 60% are HIV positive. I will leave larger descriptions for when I return from Guguletu next week, but to get you started: we visited a school for children with physical disabilities, another primary school built out of a metal shipping container, a home where a woman takes care of 12 children in her two-bedroom home, another where the daughter is only allowed to live out back in a shack because she and her son are HIV positive. We saw a graveyard that goes on forever and it is now full. There are stories of despair but also glimmers of hope and certainly a feeling of welcoming and generosity. An example: as we peeked in on the kids in the Stormont school (pictured), they broke into song to greet us (they were not expecting us). As we left them, they all wanted to hold our hands and high-five us. Wow, that will stick with me forever.

The students who came here last year will be pleased to know that Edwin speaks of them with great pride and fondness, that they were the most mature and dedicated students he has met. And Aaron, he says, “Aaron is always welcome in my house. He is my brother.”

We returned to our car, and I took a deep breath, and cried a bit. I suspect this will not be the last time I cry.

And then we drove into wine country, to estates that were as old as the 1652, built by Dutch and English colonists. The country is gorgeous, colorful with fall, winding roads, wood fire smoke in the air. We had lunch outside, tasted a little wine, wandered the grounds. I had a Julie Andrews moment to make my mother proud, breaking into song: The hills are alive, with the sound of music...

And all this only about 30 minutes away from Guguletu. I think there are people who live in this part of the Western Cape who never see what we saw in the township. And we know from Edwin that there are people in the township who have never seen the ocean, also only minutes away from their home.

We feel extremely lucky to have seen both.