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August 3, 2005
Wednesday night
I cannot believe it is August already. My time here is going by so fast. I have absolutely fallen in love with all the children, especially my crèche babies. My days run into each other, I never know what day of the weeks it is until I look at the lower right hand corner of my computer!
I am anxiously waiting for the arrival of my new/used laptop. It will probably be at least 2 or 3 more weeks before I receive it. Timing is everything, the one and only volunteer computer bit the dust the same time frame as my laptop. I feel so lost without having some internet connection. I am off this weekend, so hopefully I will get to use an internet café in Durban, what they call an internet café is two computers at the back of a photo store (only one store).but I will be thrilled if I have the opportunity to use the internet this weekend.
It has been an unusual week at the crèche for me. Started off having two extra children at night time sleeping in the crèche (two of the very active preschoolers).no one told me they were coming, they just showed up. They belong in another house so I sent them back there but the Gogo keeps sending them back to me, not sure what's happening but I guess they are mine now. Oh well, the kids are use to sharing their cots with others. Yesterday I arrived for the afternoon shift and found another little girl (under two) sleeping at lala (nap) time in the crèche (I had never seen her before). Again no one explained until today that she is staying with us in the daytime. Her dad is a local Zulu man who works here. She is being treated for sores in her mouth caused by herpes..I certainly have concerns about the other children being exposed to this. hard to keep a baby from chewing on everything she comes in contact with. She is highly infectious. I don't always understand how some of these decisions are made or the reasoning behind them. To make matters worse the crèche has been without hot water for over three weeks now (we do not have any kind of stove to heat the water).this in itself has been a challenge. I have been told there is no part available for the hot water heater and we will have to wait until they do renovations on the whole place within the next couple of months. I am finding that Africa does things in its own time frame.
Itsy Bitsy Crèche School has been so much fun. The kids are starting to get used to going to school every day. Every day I come home with a story to tell my room mates.
It's getting late (8:30pm), so off to bed I go.
Maureen
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August 7, 2005
Sunday night
Greetings from Maureen,
My roommate Libby shared this story (her journal) with me over the weekend. We were both on our weekend off. She is a volunteer teacher at the pre-school that we sponsor in the valley. It really touched my heart and I want to share it with you.
To, everyone who has followed this saga of mine, yesterday, I had an encounter that will live in my memory always, with static clarity.
For several months I have been watching closely a four year old boy at pre-school. His name is Thabiso. He rarely spoke, smiled or laughed, and had an air of perpetual sadness. He looked on longingly as the other children played, but seemed too timid and withdrawn to join them.
I learnt he came from an extended family in the valley, but no one knew his history or parentage .Each day he arrived on foot, with three other children, walking over an hour each way, up a very steep climb. These four were the only ones not brought to school by taxi, as they were unable to pay the small fee. They were often shoeless, poorly clad, and perpetually hungry.
Slowly, I gained his trust. Over time he gained the confidence to come shyly up to me, and put his hand in mine. As I sat in the playground watching the children at play he would sometimes come up and sit close beside me. There was no speech, but there was a connection
After much negotiation, I was able to arrange for these four children to receive a ride to and from pre-school .I watched Thabiso’s little face radiate with pleasure the first day we collected him presumably his first car ride. Several days later, on a bitterly cold and biting day, I was able to wrap his poorly clad and shivering body in a brand new woolen sweater. I knew how much it meant to him when he was still wearing it two days later, when the weather had changed to hot and steamy.
I was so touched by this gentle child I decided I would like to sponsor him. In order for this to happen, I had to make a home visit to ascertain his family’s income (if any), and his parentage.
On Thursday, I scaled down a steep mountain track, to the group of huts, that is Thabiso’s home. No one knew we were coming. I was accompanied by a Zulu social worker, and an Australian woman who organizes the sponsorship program.
Outside a small mud brick hut we met a woman nursing a baby. She shyly ushered us inside. The hut was divided into two rooms, separated by a curtain. We were given seats of honor on an old red sofa. The only other furniture in the room was a red chair and a cupboard. The wall was graced by a wedding photo, and a broken clock. A floral pink curtain fluttered in the window .A strong smell of kerosene .pervaded the atmosphere.
.I looked around in wonder. There was not a speck of dirt to be seen, no dust or grime. There was such a sense of quiet pride in this humble abode
Thirty minutes of questioning, unfolded the fact that this tiny hut was home to sixteen people, only one of whom was receiving an income. By this time ten of them were there, mostly women and children squashed into the room, curious to see what was going on. Every now and then a woman spoke from behind the curtain. We were told that she was Thabiso’s mother, and that she was too unwell to see us.
.It was explained to them all, that my sponsoring Thabiso, would mean I would support him financially, and that the household would receive a generous food package every month. They could not contain their smiles. With soft voices, and lowered eyes, they all expressed their gratitude As we all crowded outside again, the formalities being over, the social worker told me that Thabiso’s mother wanted to see me. She led me inside and into the small room behind the curtain. A woman was reclining on a bed, and she struggled to raise herself as I entered. She held out her arms and motioned to me to sit down. I sat on the bed close to her, as she held my hands. I looked into her tired, and patient face, and her eyes, that were full of tears. By then, mine were also. She did not say anything, she did not need to. It was then I really felt the joy of giving.
Before I left, I gave Thabiso his first real gift, and probably his first real possession----some crayons and pencils, and a little book to write in. He clutched them tightly to his chest, and then rewarded me with his first spontaneous hug and huge smile. I went there planning to sponsor one small child, and left, the proud sponsor of sixteen.
My joy was short lived. One day later, I learned the sobering news that, the transport I had organized for the children was no longer available. Unable to afford the taxi, they will only be able to attend pre-school infrequently. They will miss the educational opportunities that the school offers, and also the luxury of one hot meal per day. What a dilemma.
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August 8, 2005
Monday
This was my weekend off. I stayed here and enjoyed my time resting and thinking, working 12 days on and two days off is not an easy task for an old lady!
I spent most of this past Saturday morning watching a soccer tournament that was organized by a volunteer here. Our kids were playing teams from the valley. It was so cool seeing kids playing in our field. Our kids from the orphanage had uniforms and shoes The first team they played from the valley all the children were barefoot. My heart sank, I was so sad I could not imagine playing without shoe. Our grass is course and dry and has all kinds of briars plus kicking the soccer ball. I kept thinking how can I get these valley kids some shoes. Could not keep my mind on the game. I kept going back to the shoe situation. Then the next two teams from the valley showed up for their game and both teams were barefoot. It was like a light bulb going off in my head. It is what it is. More of a problem for me than them. They were getting to play soccer on a field and it was nothing unusual for them not affording shoes to play in. I was so sure I needed to have a solution to their not having shoes that I lost sight they were playing the game and having a great time. We supplied the transportation needed for the valley kids to get back and forth to the valley. So I guess I am telling you I never seem to know what I think I know-does that make any sense to you? It can be a struggle at times trying to understand the how’s and the why’s of different happenings here. Sometimes it brings me to my knees at night.
Maureen