The run-up to Christmas in a Children's Home...

Hey family and friends, thank you for visiting my blog! Sending you all lots of love xxx

So, it's the first day of Advent but the Home is already well on the way to Christmas and celebrations are in full swing. Christmas is not really about presents here, it is all about family and happy homes. While everyone in England is out present shopping, here our careworkers and social workers are working their hardest 'foster family shopping'. You have to remember that it is summer here now and the school year runs from Jan - Dec. So the children are all sitting their final exams and have now finished for their long summer holiday. This is the culmination of the year and they have to review all the children's home situations and communicate with the field social workers to see if they are going to be returning to a family home for good or whether they are returning to St Anthony's in Jan.

It is also really important to us that none of the children have to spend the festive season still living in the Home but that they experience a family environment. So the social worker and 2 community workers have been working round the clock to make sure each child has a host family who will take them for the holidays. This takes a lot of work, having to make sure the family is suitable and the child is going to be safe and happy with them. We are responsible for that child and so we have to be accountable for whatever happens when they are out of the Home. Imagine having 89 of your own children each staying at a friend's house for a sleepover...we are trusting that parent with our own child, and we are still responsible for them and worrying about them every minute!

So, some of the festive activities we have already been enjoying here include the trip I had planned for last Saturday which was postponed until the weather improved on Friday. I have been in contact with the manager of a Game reserve in the local town and he is so eager to help St Anthony's out. I managed to arrange a completely FREE christmas outing for the teenage boys' cottage, we arrived at the park at 7am and had the chance to see their helicopter! They boys loved it, although they weren't allowed a go! They all got to sit in the driver's seat and asked lots of questions about it. The manager is called Tony Roberts, he is a white man who is actually of British origin and was born in Tanzania when it was still a British colony. He moved to SA when he was 12yrs and lived on a farm. This means he has an amazing number of languages! He can speak english, afrikaans, zulu and swahili! It was really great for the boys to be able to have a white man speak fluent zulu to them and he is so intelligent, teaching them a lot about the environment and the animals there. We walked around and got to see zebra, wilderbeast, impala and ostriches. It was so hot though! About 33oC and I was struggling to keep up on the 2km hike.

After the walk we went back to the swimming pool and the boys got changed and all jumped in. They were all fearless of the water...but some of them had a reason to fear it...only one of them could really swim properly! That was Pete, the boy I took shopping who lives up in a village in the mountains. Maybe he learnt in a river or lake or something. One of the smallest ones, Matt, said he could swim and jumped straight in to the deep end. Mlondi and I were standing on the edge and luckily he saw straight away Matt was in trouble. He had jumped in and just went straight under, he wasn't coming up! His arms were thrashing under the water and his eyes were bulging out of his head! The poor boy was so scared. Mlondi just threw his arms straight in and pulled him out on to the side. Luckily there was no lasting damage done and he just stayed in the shallow end for the rest of the time. I tried teaching them to swim from the edge but it was pretty difficult! They all just doggy paddled around and had no idea how to do the proper strokes. All my memories of primary school swimming lessons with Mrs Spooner came flooding back and I had great fun trying to coach them from the pool side. I am hoping I might be able to make an arrangement with Tony and see if we can use the pool on a regular basis for swimming lessons, maybe just with 12 children at a time, I would love it! And the kids really really would.

I got some amazing jumping photos of them all flinging themselves in the pool. For 3 hours they just ran and jumped in continuously! Then Tony made a braai and we all had sausages in buns, and juice and crisps - all donated by the manager of Standard Bank in the town, Tony had arranged getting the money. After eating the begged to go back in the pool again so they got another hour of swimming and borrowing my camera to take photos and videos. Some of the older boys are really inventive and funny - they made some comic sketches up and filmed them, they were really good! It was so nice to just see them being kids, doing what they felt like rather than following their routine of chores. With the timetable they have they get about 1hour of freetime a day! The rest of the time is packed with cleaning, washing, cooking and studying.

Then the next day, Saturday 28th, was Thanksgiving and they use that date to celebrate the end of the year at the Home. We had a tent put up on the field and there was a full schedule of entertainment planned by each of the Cottages - plus my choir was down to perform!! I was so nervous!! The kids are good singers when it comes to singing their own Zulu songs but the really struggle with singing english and I was worried they were not going to sound very good. My hand was proper shaking when I was trying to conduct! We sang 'eyes on the prize' and it actually sounded really good. I chose it because the words are absolutely perfect for them...
'Keep your eyes on the prize, don't be dismayed, don't be dismayed,
deep in your heart you must believe, everything is gonna be alright,
everything is gonna be alright, everything is gonna be alright some day'
When they get to the 'everything is gonna be alright' they sing it with so much passion, it seems like it really does uplift them. There is nothing nicer than the feeling I get when I can hear them singing that song as the clean the floors or do their laundry. When it's hot and the windows are open I can always hear snatches of songs I have taught them drifting on the air. It makes me feel so proud :)

Then they were all awarded certificates and a present for each cottage - my Mum and Dad bought two dvd players for the teenage cottages as their christmas donation to the Home. The kids were so happy with them! They have already watched about 4 of my dvds on it, in just 2 days!!

After the entertainment we had a sit down lunch in the dining room and I got to sit with Fr. Peter which was nice, to finally get to catch up with my long lost godfather! He is such a busy man he is hard to track down. We spoke about our trip to the safari park, just 2 weeks away now!

In the afternoon I played with the kids, but it was so hot again! For about the 4th day in the row it was over 30oC and I had to go have a cold shower, its the only way to wake myself up again! In the evening we had a braai and a party for the kids, it was soooooo much fun! Unlike an english school disco where all the kids stand at the edge of the dancefloor too afraid to dance, these kids just went CRAZY! we couldn't even get them to sit down to eat their dinner, they were too interested in having dance-offs. It is amazing how talented they are at dancing, it just comes natuarlly to them! I swear this is true, I actually saw the 10month old baby dancing! I'm not joking, he was clapping his hands and bobbing his head in perfect time to the music - crazy!! At one point one of the older boys made me get up and dance. Before when we had parties with the staff I had refused but I'm not afraid infront of the kids, I don't feel like they judge me at all. I always say...give me 70 kids to teach rather than just 3 adults any day. I am much more nervous with adults, but right at home with the kids. I think this must mean I am immature...o well! Hope I stay that way! I never want to be serious. But it was still embarassing getting up and dancing Zulu style! I don't think I did too badly though and I actually enjoyed myself, I will have to be brave more often. It is just that I hate to be bad at something, if I am bad I would rather not try than attempt and fail. I really must work on that bad habit! Practice practice practice!

The next day it was one of the boy's brother's confirmations in Ladysmith, a town about 2 hours away. This boy was also in the Home for many years but as he is over 18yr now he is at college studying to be an electrician and staying with a foster mother. His name is Xolani and I remember him well from last year when I taught him at St Lewis. He is such a sweet and polite boy, so is his brother - the one I mentioned last time who wants to be a paramedic. They are such lovely boys, their father is dead and their mother is an alcoholic who lives in a one room hut. They have been in the Home over 7 years now, and will never be going back to their mother's. The lady who fosters them is really lovely and has a lot of love to give them, but not much money to support them.

We took the bus and 35 boys to go and visit them! It was such a nice surprise for him, we hadn't told them we were going as it was pretty last minute. In a typically african fashion we arrived at 9.30am...the service started at 8am and was over when we arrived! So we collected Colin and followed the Bishop to the next confirmation which was 5min away, in the very same township - it just shows you how many catholics there are here! But we were late for that one too so we had to sit outside the church in a baking hot concrete yard, think it was over 35oC in that spot - I thought I would faint. The service was over 2 hours long by which point we were all feeling sick and tired, literally! But yet again I experienced the unbelievable love and kindness that the Zulu people have for each other. They heard we were a group from a Children's Home so the ladies from the committee went and brought food and juice for the boys and then invited the adults in to have lunch with the Bishop! I actually got to sit next to him and had a really nice chat, he is a very intelligent man and it was such a nice surprise. I had heard a lot about Graham Rose but had never met him before, I felt very proud to sit there and talk to him. He said that he has a nun who is a friend of his from Bristol who works in Cape Town in a centre for AIDS babies, and that if I ever want to get away I should let him know and he will organise a trip down for me! Sounds amazing, I will definitely be taking him up on that offer!

After lunch we all piled back on the bus and drove to Colin's foster house in the township. We had bought 3 cakes and 6 bottles of fizzy drink for him so that we could celebrate with a little party, it was so nice. The township he lives in has no tarmac roads, like all of the townships I've been to, and so we bumped along in our 20year old bus. We pulled up outside their house, a one storey house with a corrugated iron roof and 2 windows - both smashed and their holes covered up with plastic bags. I wasn't shocked at the house because I had seen from photos of visits to the children's homes that that is how they lived. But despite the grim sound of it, the garden was really nicely kept with a mown lawn and flower beds, and inside the house they had nice furniture and a tv. It is strange the differences between the structure of a house which is so basic and then the fact that they have nice possessions inside...and they don't even have a real toilet. I noticed the steel shack at the back of the house so was polite enough not to ask to use the 'bathroom'...luckily I managed to hold it all day - pretty miraculous for me!!

When it came to leaving Colin asked me about the Shakespeare sonnet I had taught him last year and if I could please send him a copy of it with an explanation in easy english so he can understand it. It was so nice to hear he remembered and was still interested in reading literature, he is such a toughtful boy, really intent on learning and improving his education. I have made him a copy and have sent it with a careworker who is visiting Ladysmith tomorrow so hopefully he will deliver it safely to him. I am hoping that when we go to the safari place near Ladysmith we will be able to make a detour to visit Colin and Gerry who will be there for the holidays. We could take them a food parcel of some essential supplies as I know they don't have enough money to really buy suffcient food for that number of people. And as it's christmas I want them to have some nice things to eat too! It will be really fun to show mum and dad the real African side of SA, not just the tourism side which is not a true reflection of how I have been living and the people I am living with.

Okay, that is just about everything I have to update you guys on! I am working hard this week on completing some applications for funding from 3 different trust funds, I want to get them off by Friday so have a lot of boring paperwork to occupy me...but then I can always take a break and go and find some kids to play with. Yesterday I had amazing fun learning to shoot a home-made catapult with some of the boys - I was pretty bad but it was a lot of fun. Then we watched a DVD at their cottage and I ended up leaving at 11pm! You can tell it is winding down now that they are watching dvds instead of doing study, just one more week and they will be off for the summer holidays, and just 9 days until I am off for my holiday with mum and dad!

Much love to you all, happy 1st day of Advent, oh and did you know it is World AIDS day today?? If you want to do something, send some money for St Anthony's reach for a star christmas present project and help make a chlid's christmas one to celebrate :)

love Becky xxxxxxxx

The highs and lows of another week in South Africa

Hello lovely readers...I hope you are all still out there!

Please leave a comment so I know someone is reading this thing!! It’s hard when you are talking to a wall...or rather, ‘posting’ on one.

Well it feels like an age since I wrote on here, lots has been happening, both good and bad...so I have been rushing around. Firstly, the lovely shopping trip I wrote about last time...turned out to be not such a success. The next day, the Sunday, as I was on my way out for the day to a friend’s baby’s baptism, I realised my passport wasn’t in my handbag. I was out for the whole day worrying about it and when I got home at 9pm I turned my house upside down looking for it...unsuccessfully. I went to bed hoping it was just that I was too tired and searched again in the morning. I looked everywhere! All round the Home and in the cars, asked all the children...then I went to town and went to all the shops I had been to. By this point I had run through all my memories of where I had seen my passport and what I had done, playing it over and over again in my head. I knew that I had it on Friday afternoon, and that it was gone by Sunday morning.
Playing over the trip to town on the Saturday I realised that was when it must have gone. I remember that there was a bit of a strange encounter with a man just outside the Kodak shop where I was going to collect my photos. It was quite busy in the mall and this man was standing very close behind me, so close that he stood on the back of my heel, but I remember it was weird because he did it a second time and didn’t apologise. It was odd the way he was so close to me, it wasn’t that busy...I thought he was trying to get round me so I tried to move out his way but he stayed right behind me...he bumped into me twice. I was trying to get out his way and I kind of staggered into the Kodak shop. I checked my bag for my phone and purse and when they were both there I didn’t think about it again. But now I am positive that is what happened...he must have thought he was taking a wallet or money, little did he know that it was a passport which is pretty useless to him but the most essential thing in MY life! So frustrating!

So on Monday I went round all the shops and asked the managers and security guards but no one had found anything. Then I went to the Police station to enquire but nothing had been handed in, so I filed a theft report and got an affidavit. I had spoken to the British embassy and knew that I needed a police report number to register a stolen passport and get a new one. The police station was a bit of an experience...the one in town is probably the tallest building I have seen round here...it is maybe 5 stories high, that is a skyscraper in African terms! Inside it was like a tacky 80’s hotel lobby, lots of fake orangey marble, plastic plants and dodgy prints in chintzy frames on the wall...at slightly wonky angles. I had to join a queue of about 6 people which was leading to this black marble-topped counter, kind of like a bar! It didn’t look like a police station at all...it was like they had just taken over use of a hotel, just removed the room key box from behind the encounter and there you have it! I was called forward to see a man who was about 50, wearing thick plastic rimmed glasses and a black leather jacket. He looked like a crap car salesman, but I guess he was some kind of police officer...He didn’t say anything to me when I approached...and I didn’t know how to start this kind of conversation! So I tried the traditional Zulu greeting of ‘Hello, how are you?’ the reply to which was a blank stare and silence...so...not the way to approach a policeman apparently! Then I just rambled out my story and he gave me a form which was the affidavit, to fill out what happened. I wasn’t even sure if he was understanding my English...so I just went to write down what I had said.

I had to sit on this stool at a low black marble counter with three little kind of cubicles where you could write without anyone looking over your shoulder. It was facing a big mirror sunk into this strange bit of low wall...probably replaced the tropical fish tank that was there back in its days as an African Fawlty Towers.

So I filled it out and waited while the car salesman-police officer wrote out an affidavit with the man next to me. The experience was topped off when the two of them poked their heads round the marble slab to ask for my help in translating the man’s problem from Zulu. They asked me ‘what is a female cow in English?’ I was taken aback as I thought this was some kind of rude comment about me!..when I had recovered from the shock I managed to splutter ‘heifer’ whilst trying not to laugh my head off. Who knows how the car salesman would have reacted to that, considering ‘how are you?’ wasn’t exactly acceptable. I thought I had a problem having lost my passport...but at least it didn’t involve a heifer. Thank God for small mercies eh?

So anyway, I have now sent off to cancel the current passport number and to apply for a new one, I think it will cost about £250 altogether, hundreds of handfuls of my own hair, and about 24hours spent in police stations and home affairs. Hopefully it will take 2 weeks, though I have my doubts considering it takes much longer in the UK and I am on ‘African time’ now...!
After spending the first 3 days of the week depressed and stressed over my passport, the last 3 days have been doubly good to make up for it! The weather was horrendous for 5 days, from Sun to Sat it just wouldn’t stop raining night and day, and was about 8-12degrees, felt freezing though! Especially as I only really have summer clothes with me. Everyone else was wearing tights, boots, coats and scarves and all I have are sandals, summer skirts and cardigans! I had organised a trip for the teenage boys to go away for the weekend, to spend the day in a game reserve seeing the animals, have a braai and go swimming. But at 7am the morning before I got a phone call to say that the river had burst and it was too flooded to go on a game drive or even to walk around. So the man has rescheduled for this Fri instead. I had 24hours to try and salvage the situation and still take the boys away...

I had organised for us to stay the night in the youth centre at a catholic mission up in the mountains called Maria Ratschitz. I rang them and asked if we could come earlier and have our braai there and just let the boys play in the grounds, they said they were happy to have us but that the rains had made the sand road dangerously slippery and that we might find it impassable with a bus!

So I went to bed on Friday very concerned about what the morning would bring, and if it was more rain then our whole weekend would be ruined – and my first attempt at arranging anything here would be a failure. But the weather looked like it was turning for the better and by 10am it was getting hot, the boys were asking if they could still go to the game reserve but I told them that was going to be Friday, and they will miss school so they are even happier!
We piled on the bus and went to town to buy the last bits of food for the trip. We got lots of treats to make a nice braai with steak and wurst and then bought icecream and custard for pudding...absolute luxuries to these boys! When we came off the tarmac road onto the dirt track it was virtually completely dry and we had no trouble travelling the last 15km up to the mission. It was so beautiful when we arrived! It is really green and lush, on a huge site which is all landscaped and really cared for with flowers and trees...such a change from the surroundings outside St. Anthony’s...which is basically a shanty town next to a busy road. The boys jumped straight off the bus and were playing soccer and running round in the sunshine. It looked like we were going to be successful after all!!

Until the crazy old German nun turned up...It was a bit odd because no one came out to greet us and we didn’t really know where to go or even where we were staying. So I went to find someone and came across...you guessed it...a crazy old German nun. She was about 70 and hunched over, she was wearing a dirty white apron and these massive, clompy Dr Martin boots, almost like what a builder wears. When I told her who we were she started getting angry because she said she didn’t know the group had two ladies in it [me and one of the careworkers] and that we were not allowed to stay in the centre with the boys. She said we should have told her – but the person I had been speaking to on the phone knew full well that it was 16 male and 2 female, they just hadn’t passed the message on. So she rushed off to this other cottage and said that me and Tuli must stay there, we followed her round as she paced up and down the cottage opening and locking various doors searching for a key to a second bedroom. She was jabbering away in a thick German accent and me and Tuli smothered our giggles as we watched her bustle around, muttering angrily – but about what, we didn’t know! She wasn’t very happy to see us though, that’s for sure!

In the end we found the sister who had taken our booking and we asked her if it would be ok for me and Tuli to stay with the boys, because otherwise the one male careworker would have to do all the work, and plus, the whole point was that it was a weekend away together. She said it was no problem and that there was even a separate smaller room where Tuli and I could stay alone. So, reassured that it was all fine we took the key and headed down to see our new lodgings.
O dear...’youth centre’ is a phrase which apparently covers a multitude of sins. It sounds so modern and encouraging...my how we were mistaken! We approached a long low cement building with a tin roof and a number of smashed windows. I unlocked the rickety door to find ancient bunk beds with thin and sagging mattresses, no pillows or sheets, dirty floors and very suspicious smelling toilets. The place didn’t look like it had been cleaned in a good few months...and the holes in the windows meant that a good few birds, insects and other things had been the most recent visitors. I could have cried!! I was so sorry that I had brought them to this place, thinking it was going to be a fun trip away – not a nightmare we just had to endure until we could go back home the next day...!

Mlondi and Tuli [the careworkers] tried to hide their disappointment...we all laughed nervously and went to show the boys their place for the night with heavy hearts. Mlondi made light of it by telling the boys before they went in that it was the most luxurious place he had ever seen...the sarcasm seemed to work and we were all soon laughing at just how bad it was. It wasn’t really any worse than camping when you thought about it, and it was a real adventure at least! The boys hardly batted an eyelid at the state of the inside, considering many of their backgrounds I’m sure they had all lived in worse conditions...staggering really. It had running water and electricity at least, much more than lots of homes in SA.

We were all really hungry as it was 3pm and we hadn’t eaten since breakfast but before we could have any food we had to go out and collect firewood for the braai and the stove. The boys kept winding me up by saying they could see snakes and by trying to throw insects at me or shove them down my back. Most of the time they were really just holding leaves but it was enough to send me running around screaming. The problem was the more I protested the more they chased me! We got back and it was a real team building experience attempting to cook a really nice meal for 20 people only using fire! The kitchen was soon choked with smoke and we were all struggling with very itchy eyes, it was unbearable! We lighted the fire 3 times and then had to give up, we couldn’t boil the water to make Pap [mealie meal which comes from Maize, mixed with water. It is the staple carbohydrate here.] Thankfully I had arranged that the sisters would provide us with supper and when the boys went to collect it they came back with a pot full of pap! So we sat down to a veryyyy late lunch at 7pm, but it was all the more delicious because we had waited so long and all slaved away making it. We ate marinated steak, wurst, pap and this tomato gravy [it makes pap taste really good but without it, it’s pretty tasteless and gross].

Then after dinner we went outside and sang Zulu songs and I attempted to join in the traditional dancing, it was really fun, and all in beautiful surroundings under a starry sky :) We went in at about 10pm and the boys chose a dvd to watch on my laptop, they all agreed on Lion King even though they have seen it before they really like it! It has so much Zulu in it, lots of songs are Zulu, especially if you listen to the stage show. It turns out ‘hakuna mattata’ is Zulu too!! How cool is that!

The next morning we went to church then went to climb the mountain which overlooks the mission. There is a huge white cross which we were going to climb up to, it looked so close from the ground but it was much harder than I expected. It was so hot, maybe 30degrees, and it was ridiculously steep. We were practically on our hands and knees the whole way up!
When we got to the top we had a discussion about the year they have spent at St Anthony’s, reviewing the best bits, the challenges and what they are all thankful for. It was really enlightening to hear them all say what they were grateful to the Home for. Some said they thanked God for bringing them to St Anthony’s so that they had a home for the first time in their life. They were all thankful for the skills they had been taught, cooking, cleaning, washing their clothes – because they now know how to look after themselves. I was surprised to hear so many say they were grateful for being taught good manners, to live someone where people didn’t swear, to be disciplined and taught that stealing is bad. They were all so grateful for this discipline and structure. They obviously have lived completely without the parental guidance I take for granted. Some of them have come for the streets or from child headed families where they have never had a parent teaching them right and wrong. It showed me how much progress they have made and how mature they are, that they are thankful for discipline and being taught morals – most kids would begrudge being told off, I know I would!

I was asked to say a few words and so I told them I was so thankful that they had welcomed me so warmly to St Anthony’s and that they have become my best friends and even my family since I came. Then I tried to motivate them to feel positive about themselves by telling them that they are so strong because they have endured such difficulties in their lives. That they are much stronger than me and they must all dream big because I know they can achieve great things in their lives. The night before I had spoken to Gerry, one of the boys who is going to leave soon as he is 18 now, and I was so moved to hear he wants to be a paramedic! I really want to help him achieve this dream, it is inspiring that he wants to have a job where he saves the lives of other people. I would love to help him get to college so that he can do the course to become a basic paramedic, it only takes 6months but he needs to get a drivers license first.

We climbed back down, which was maybe even harder than going up, and Ben – one of the boys – helped me down, holding my hand all the way as I kept falling! On the way down we saw a scary spider, I’m not sure what it is called yet, I’m searching for it on Google now...but they said it was a poisonous one. It was kind of pinkish colour, with light blue on it too, it wasn’t hairy but they said it was a young one. Pretty scary though!

After having lunch – provided by the sisters – we packed up and reluctantly headed back. They were all sad to leave, they had had such a good time and were really excited and playing on the bus all the way home. It had clearly been a fun weekend for them and they were all hyper and happy, was such a nice feeling to feel like I was the one who had provided them with such a nice weekend. I can’t wait for Friday’s trip to the game reserve, I am sure it is going to be sunny and am really hopeful it will be just as successful as this weekend. I love these boys so so much, I am really going to miss them when I go on holiday and home in January. I will be eager to come back in January to see them all and to enjoy a whole year living and working with them.

The Choir Series 3: Zulu edition!

Hi friends and family...
Hope you are all well, I miss you all a lot! Had my first pangs of homesick last week when I was feeling fluey...but I honestly feel so settled now.

I have become really good friends [I think, I hope!] with quite a lot of the kids now...especially with the teenagers. That's probably because they are better at speaking English! I have homework sessions with them 4 nights a week, and sometimes they turn up on my doorstep unannounced asking for extra help with assignments. The other night I was just trying to have some dinner when there was a tap on my door and a girl wanting help with her science homework...I really had to rack my brain to remember what 'hypothesis', 'independent variable' and 'dependent variable' meant. In the end my GCSE science seemed to come back...which was a bit of luck when 5 more kids turned up, all doing the same piece of homework. I ended up teaching a chemistry lesson in my cottage!! It's really nice that I can be of help to these kids, the other careworkers don't really have the education to be of any assistance. I have really taken my education for granted until now. I have had so much more than people of my own age here, and especially those in older generations who grew up during apartheid.

The other thing that has really brought me closer to the kids is the fact that I have started up a Gospel Choir!! It has really taken off, the children absolutely love it and are always turning up wanting to practice. I have shown them videos I have downloaded from youtube of my choir at York, Revelation, and of other choirs. Their favourite was the one from The Choir BBC show with the boys' school who sang Stand by me/Beautiful Girl, they have seen it literally hundreds of times. Always it finishes and they say 'repeat again auntie Rebecca'!! They struggle with the words so I have made them copies of the lyrics and they practice all the time, you can hear 'dumdum dada dumdum' and 'staaand by meee' all round the Home, any time of day and wherever I am someone seems to be singing it! They bring their own zulu style to the songs and the most fun one is a version of 'amazing grace' I taught them. The boys' part has a really good rhythm to it and it fits their style of dancing. So they are always dancing along as they sing - a million miles from the struggle I had trying to make the choir in York just step from side to side and click their fingers. Now I only have trouble trying to keep them still!!

My cottage has really come alive in the last 2 weeks. Now that I have welcomed the kids into it for choir practice they have come to treat it like their second home. It is really nice because lots of other places in the Home, like the offices and the Principle's house, are kind of off limits. I have adopted an 'open door' policy. It seems whenever I leave my door open it attracts a visitor. So if I ever feel lonely I only have to leave it open and soon one of the kids will turn up, usually asking me to play 'dumdum dada dumdum' for them on the laptop! Today I was overun with about 20 kids coming in and out the house - that's because it's Saturday and they have quite a lot of free time. I had laundry to do so I just left them in the house watching tv, playing with my camera and laptop. I really like just letting them chill out and enjoy the kinds of luxuries that kids in the UK think of as everyday items and activities. For these children, it really is a different world. And they have so much discipline and routine here that when they come to mine I really try not to tell them what to do but just let them choose for themselves. They are so well behaved though, I don't worry about them taking something or damaging anything, they have a lot of respect for other people's possessions.

This evening I had a little video party at my cottage with the teenage boys. I borrowed a DVD player and bought popcorn and fizzy drinks for them. They all came round and 16 of them perched on my sofas, sitting as good as gold as I handed out drinks and food. It was so sweet, it seemed like a brand new experience for them. And yet for me, sitting down on a Saturday night to watch a family film and eat popcorn, is again, a regular activity for me that I have grown up with. It was so nice to give them that experience, I'm sure we will do it again soon. We watched 'Cool Runnings' - it was such a good choice, they LOVED it! Lots of the jokes transcend language barriers so even if they didn't understand most of the dialogue they laughed a lot and understood the general plot. There are lots of jokes which bascially involve people falling out of things/crashing into things - perfect boy humour!

Today I also went on a trip into the town with my friend Sthabile who works in the office and I took one of the boys, his name's Peter and he's 14. The day before Peter had to go to the hospital. The night before he had asked me to accompany him to hospital. It turns out they wanted him to go alone and to catch the bus home on his own, which he had never done before. He was nervous about going alone, that's why he had asked me. The problem was I didn't know when it was going to be...the next morning I was fast asleep when at 6am there was a taptap on my door. It was persistent so I got up and answered the door in my pyjamas..I still had no idea who or what it was. When Peter was standing there waiting for me I felt so bad!! I had to tell him to go without me... So at 9am when I was down in the office I asked if I could have a lift to meet Peter in the hospital and catch the bus back with him. Luckily when I got there he was already out so he just got a lift back with us, we didn't have to brave public transport!

It turns out the reason Peter is in the Home is poverty. He comes from a village in the Drakensberg Mountains and his family are too poor to care for him and his siblings. They had resorted to stealing in order to get money for food. Peter's older brother is in the same prison as Mark because he was caught for theft. Peter would be there too except he was only 12 when he was taught to steal by older kids. The reason he was sick and had to go to hospital was probably because of the water that he has been drinking in his home village. They do not have proper running water so there are a lot of diseases and ongoing health problems that have come from the bad water, including red eyes. It turns out there is another reason for the red eyes - nothing to do with HIV. In January they are planning to make a trip to Peter's home with all the teenage boys and spend a day digging an alotment and planting food for his family. The Home will pay for all the seeds and everything, and hopefully it could provide a lasting solution for Peter's family.

Because of Peter's family position he therefore has no host or foster family coming to look after him in the holidays or at weekends. In the holidays he still goes home to his village and he is given food parcels and weekly visits from the social worker while he is there, to check he is being fed. Lots of the other children have people who come and take them out for weekends, buy them new clothes and spoil them a bit. But Peter has no one like that, he only has the Home and what they can afford to give him. So when I was with Mlondi I suggested that I could take Peter out shopping at the weekend, and maybe buy him something which he needs, be it trainers or trousers or whatever. He said that would be really nice and that Pete was definitely the one I should take out and treat!

So today, the two of us braved riding the 'taxis' for the first time - a mini bus which picks people up when you stick out your finger. They just look like tins on wheels and the drivers drive like lunatics, speeding and overtaking all the time, then suddenly stopping with no warning to drop someone off or pick them up. They are also exclusively ridden by black people, so they were pretty wide-eyed when I turned up this morning! I'm sure they will be talking about me for years to come, the white lady who rode a taxi...! The first shop we headed to was 'Tekkie Town' tekkie means trainers, and we were there for about an hour choosing trainers for me as well as Pete. Really he wanted soccer boots but I had to persuade him that they wouldn't get used enough and that if he got astroturf trainers he could use them as normal shoes too.

Then I also wanted to buy him some new clothes, but being a teenage boy, he has a big thing for sportswear, which doesn't come cheap - even in Africa! I bought him a teeshirt of his soccer team, the Kaizer Chiefs, who play in Johannesburg and some 3/4 length Nike trousers. This was the very first time in his life that he had been taken out shopping and asked to choose what he would like to buy. I must have been on hundreds of clothes shopping trips for myself...makes me sick how much I must have had spent on me over the years. That's why I ended up going a bit over the top and buying him a whole outfit, but he was so so happy, it was worth every penny...and much more besides.

There really is nothing like the feeling you get when you know you have given a child the feeling that they are special. It may seem unfair that I was treating him when I can't afford to treat them all in the same way but that is what makes all the difference to Pete. All the others have more than him, they may have suffered in other ways, but in terms of material things, he is definietly the least well off. Now he has been allowed to catch up a bit! And the important thing is not what he got materially from it, but that special feeling he got, being singled out by me, being asked to come to town - his first time ever! It has given him a chance to experience something new as an individual, rather than as part of a big group of boys. Too often they must get the feeling of being lost in the crowd when they are living in a big group - 16 boys with just one careworker. This was Pete's chance to be singled out from the crowd and given the full attention of someone who cares for him and wants to see him happy. I know for a fact that he will remember this day for a long time to come. And if when he does he remembers how he was made to feel special and loved, then that is something which I believe you can't put a price on.

It really feels true to me today, that...It is in giving, that we receive x

Everyday life in Blaauwbosch...

Hello friends and family :)

I hope you are all well and enjoying the English winter! I am settling into an African summer...quite different from what I'm used to. Not only does it get hot suddenly and then cold again, but they have really strong winds and then sharp downpours that flood the pathways. It is strange being in a place where summer means hot and rainy! The hottest so far has been about 32degrees, and the hottest month is not until January. Sometimes you wake up and it looks cloudy so you dress a bit warmer and then by 9am the cloud has burned off and it's boiling! Then by 3pm a big black cloud appears, the wind is rattling the roof and it pours with rain. Then the next morning, bright sunshine again! I am trying not to be vain about clothes here but sometimes I can't help it, I have to change three times in a day to match the weather!!

Anyway, I'm just trying to paint a better picture of everyday life here. The food is not as bad as I remembered...I have basic ingredients but the only meat I like is the chicken. I tried cooking these sausages and they were so disgusting I had to throw them away. I have eaten other meat cooked by the kitchen but it always has bones and grissle in it. They don't seem to mind! I just want a piece of meat where I don't have to spit bits out or gnaw on a bone!! I will never take boneless chicken breasts for granted ever again...What else, breakfast I have peanut butter toast which is nice. Lunch I either eat what the kitchen has prepared for the staff or just some more toast. I tried making French toast and it was quite nice. But the house smelt like burnt food which was a bit embarassing when visitors turned up. They already think I'm a useless housekeeper because I don't know how to polish the floors! Then dinner, I make either roast chicken or chicken curry. Not very adventurous! It's been 4 weeks and I am already kind of sick of chicken and rice...2 years could take its toll, maybe I will have to branch out.

Now to tell you about African food...lots of it is totally alien to me! They ask me what it is called in English and I have to tell them I have no idea because I've never seen it before. Most of the carbohydrates they eat are totally weird...'pap' which they also call 'stiff porridge' but looks nothing like porridge to me! And some bean mushy stuff [actually quite nice] and they eat mashed pumpkin a lot! The worst thing [which I haven't even tried] is called 'sour milk' in English, I can't remember in Zulu. The name is enough to put me off let alone the smell! It comes out kind of thick and then they mix it with something else so it looks a bit like porridge, gross! The other weird thing I had the other day which was actually nice was a fish chilli! I thought it was beef at first then realised I had been eating fish, quite a surprise! They never waste anything here so often you find the meat they are eating is something which you would never see in England...like they had chicken feet for supper! They were actually gnawing on the claws of chickens, it looked so wrong! They said they eat the heads too! I guess all that stuff ends up in mcChicken nuggets and things like that, but here everything is in it's original shape, no hiding what it is! 'Processing' things is definitely not something which really happens in Africa, I've noticed that a lot. It's especially evident when you see the cow being brought in on the back of a truck, tied up and slaughtered, then served on the BBQ [braai] later that day. Freshest meat I've ever had!

What else can I tell you about my life...my house is very comfortable, not really any different to living in England. I have sofas, tv, fridge freezer, microwave, toaster, hot shower...the only thing which is hard work round the house is doing laundry. You have to scrub it all by hand and I always make my knuckles bleed by the end of a load! They you have to rinse it and hang it out. There is a rinsing machine which I can use sometimes, its basically a barrel which fills with water and spins round...pretty oldschool!! O and the toilet paper is really crap! And my electricity is always shutting off because it's too weak round here. So the fridge is turned off most the time, o dear. You have bars on the windows and doors here, and big fences with spikes on top surrounding the Home. That is normal here, houses always have security fences round them, no little picket fences or low walls like in England. At first I found it intimidating but it makes me feel safe now.

The township which I live in is called Blaauwbosch Catholic Mission...you won't find it on a map or on google because it doesn't officially exist. They have been trying to get it under the durastiction of one of two local councils, Madadeni and Osizweni, but neither one will accept responsibility for it. So apart from the Home and the Church which have built their own sanitation, none of the hundreds of homes here have running water or sewage systems. They have to collect water from taps to wash and cook, and they have outdoor hole-in-the-ground loos which are corrugated steel cubicle things that they have fashioned themselves. They do however have electricity...I don't know how or when this came in. It seems crazy to have electricity but no running water! The people living here are desperately poor. About 80% are unemployed and a similar number are HIV positive. The two often go together as they can't hold down a job because they are sick.

I had quite a scary enounter on the way back from church on Sunday which was held at the primary school, a 15min walk into the heart of the township. A crazy old man who was in his garden started talking to me, he was kind of shouting then I realised he was speaking English and was saying don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you! So I stopped and shook his hand and said hello to be polite but he wouldn't let go of my hand. He was kind of talking nonsense, half zulu half english, then he became more coherent and said he wanted my advice. He said he was addicted to drugs and wanted to know what he should do to stop. He kept repeating the question so I tried to make up an answer! I just said that it's a very hard thing to do but he must try to gradually take less and less because you cannot cut off easily in one go. But he must try and get medical help...I don't even know what the drugs were. The thought going through my mind was that they might actually be drugs for HIV which he needs to take. Often they have very anti-drug taking taboo, to do with their cultural opinions and they sometimes choose to stop taking the drugs which they need for HIV in favor of using traditional herbal healers. I was worried that he might be talking about his HIV drugs which ofcourse I want to encourage him to take! It was a very weird encounter...he let me go and said I must go with a smile on my face to eat my lunch! He was crazy but not a bad man...just very sick I think.

I've been thinking a lot about the children in the Home and wondering if they are sick. Details of the HIV status of all the children is completely private to ensure they are not treated differently or discriminated against. Sadly attitudes are still very misunderstood and families even disown family members who have the virus. My attitude is so opposite in that, I also want to treat them differently, because I want to love them MORE and spoil them! And give them more attention and love, and it is because I pity them. I know it's not a nice feeling to think that others pity you, you want to feel like a 'normal' person. But I just want them to have the best, most love-filled life they can. Maybe they will only live to be a young adult...it doesn't really bare thinking about. It is just so sad. As well as the drug treatment they should be undergoing HIV counselling here too I think...I have heard it mentioned, I'm just not sure what it involves or who conducts it. But the idea is to help them come to terms with their illness and realise that they can have a life past being diagnosed. But the resilience of these children is just stunning. If I knew I had HIV I would just curl up and wait to die...I couldn't carry on like they do. But if they are born with the disease...they have never known any different. We must just make sure they don't see that reaction of tragic pity in the way they are treated or spoken too, they must be given hope for their future, because they only have one chance at their future, they only have this one life...

Anecdotes and thoughts on my third week in Africa

Hello friends and family,

so again it has been a week since my last entry! It shows that I am settling in to a busy way of life...Sunday is my one day of the week when I can do stuff that I want to do. Mid-week is just a bit too hectic so the weekend is the time to get online and collect my thoughts on what I have experienced.

This week saw the start of my job as a Fundraiser for the Home, so far, one 25 page application down...only a few hundred more to go I should think! I have applied to the FirstRand Foundation which is a collection of 4 of the biggest banks in SA into a charitable fund which awards grants to NPO's [non profit organisations]. I emailed it off on the 30th, the deadline was the 31st! So hopefully they picked it up in the office in time on the Friday afternoon for it to qualify for consideration.

There is a lot of work to do here which we need funding for...the main thing being a new block which needs building. Currently the Home can take 100 children, but that means 50 boys and 50 girls. At the moment we have 89 children including 37 boys and 52 girls. The problem is...that we have too many girls in the 2 dormitories for aged 4-12 yrs girls. They are really cramped with 15 girls in one room! That room should really only have about 10 girls.

So they want to build a new cottage for the staff quarters so that those rooms can be made into children's rooms. That cottage will cost about R496,000 which is £49,000. The other big project we are looking to get under way is for an administration block and hall. At the moment there is no one room big enough to hold all the children and staff together. We had a mass on Saturday with just the staff and children and maybe 40 other people, and they had to hire a marquee and put it up outside. They have to hire a marquee maybe 15-20 times a year. If they had their own hall they could hold more functions and events, have indoor events when the weather is bad, and also rent the hall out to the local community to generate extra income. Also, this building would have the offices in so the current offices could be turned into another cottage for children. The two extra cottages inside the Home would accomodate approx. 40 more children! And the cost of building this hall is R1,600,000 which is £160, 000.

So I have a lot of work to do to fundraise this money! They have had the plans drawn up for over a year now and nothing has happened so hopefully we can get the ball rolling so building can start in early 2010.

Other than that, my week has included only 3hours of teaching at the school [that's just how my timetable works, I have 4 busy days at school this coming week] and just general playing with the children. They are getting more used to me now which is nice, and even the boys are becoming braver and talking to me. I just had two of the boys from Zanzibar who are 13yrs come round and visit, they are so curious to see inside the house because I have hundreds of photos on the wall which they can see through my window! So they came in and looked at them all, and I was explaining who all my family and friends are. I also let them go on my laptop so they could look through all the photos I have taken of them over the past few weeks. It's just really nice for them to be able to come in here and see how I am living and know that they are welcome in here too, its not a place which is out of bounds to them! I am hoping that next week the boys will be able to come round for a dvd night in my house! They have a dvd player which they can bring and plug in, and I could buy crisps and popcorn and stuff, make it like a cinema night :)

Yesterday we had a really nice celebration here to remember the founder of St Anthony's, Fr. Tate. He died 40years a go this year. It was really special because we had a lady come back who was the first child that Fr Tate adopted! He was left with 2 orphans when their mother died and there was no other family to care for them, they went and lived with him in his presbetry, their names were Nancy and Ernest. From there they were adopted by Dr and Mrs Khoza who ended up with 22 orphans! So it was a really nice day with food, dancing and zulu singing and lots of Old Atonians visiting again.

Today I got up and went to Church as always at 8am, it was a special service where the children went in their school uniforms and each of them received a blessing from the priest, in preparation for the start of exams. Some of them have already written some exams, others are starting in the next couple of weeks. I love mass here, it is all in Zulu but the singing is amazing, they all sing in harmony all the time and I am gradually picking up some of the songs. The one thing I struggle with every week, and causes quite a stir amongst the children, is my dancing!! Yes dancing, in church...it is compulsory and I can't do it!!! They all do this special sway from side to side and I just can't make my hips do it! And then you have to do some turns, and I keep bumping the kids with my bum by turning at the wrong time...it is so embarassing! After mass one of the girls said, we really need to teach you the zulu step. And I could see that these men in the row oppositte were laughing at me, I went bright red!!

After church I had arranged to go with the teenage boys' careworker, Mlondi, to visit one of the boys who used to be at St Anthony's but has ended up in prison. He was my favourite child when I was here last year! I was so shocked to hear that he had gone to prison. His name is MARK, he is 20yrs old now, he originally comes from Durban where he lived with his mother and sisters until his mother died when he was about 15yrs, then he went into an orphanage in Durban. He got moved out here, I think it was because he was too old, when he was about 18yr. When I came last year he was in my grade10 class and was the star pupil. Because he is coloured [mixed race] his first language was English so he obviously was a better english speaker than the other children. But he was also so keen to learn, and was really intellectual. One night he came round for extra help with his Shakespeare work that I had started with them, I hadn't even set any homework! We ended up having a really good discussion about the political history of SA and he told me that he wanted to study philosophy at university. So you can imagine, he was a really clever young man with big ambitions and a mind focused on learning as much as possible, and really wanting to move up in the world. When I left I told him I would come back, he just looked at me and said, 'people like you always say that, but you never do!' He really meant it, he looked hurt, like he had been let down by people making empty promises before. So when I shook his hand and said 'I promise I will come back' I really meant it, there was no way I was going to break it.

That was why I was so sad when I found he was not here when I returned! I absolutely had to go and visit him and show him I had kept my promise, and that I still support him and believe in him even though he made a mistake. I should probably tell you what he did...Like I said he was from Durban and had trouble growing up with a single parent family, I think he was involved in trouble on the streets. When his mum died he started stealing to help the family live, this was why they ended up in care. So when he came to St Anthony's he already had created a habit of stealing, it becomes like an addiction, when they see an opportunity to take something, they really can't resist.

MARK has a 2yr sentence in Ekuseni Prison - for young offenders aged 12-24yrs I think. It is about 30min drive from St Anthony's. You come out the town from the North and drive through some beautiful countryside, surprisingly it can be quite green and lush and there are some dairy farms out there. On the horizon you can see the hills that this area is famous for, flat topped hills just like Table Mountain, but not on that scale. There are not many houses for about 10k then you turn off the road to Ekuseni Prison...which is Zulu for 'in the morning'.

On the journey I had been trying to imagine what it would be like. I had heard it referred to as a 'young offenders' institute so was shocked to see it called a 'Prison' on the sign. I began to fear that it was more serious an institute than I imagine of a young offenders in UK. My fears were increased by the sight of the guard office, behind two rows of 20ft high steel fencing, the inner fence which it turns out is electrified. We had to go in, show our IDs, leave our cell phones behind, then be searched and go through a metal detector. The guards went to fetch Mark from the actual prison building which is separate from the area where visitors can meet. We could see him walking across the big open courtyard in his burgandy red prison uniform, that shocked me too. The sight of him actually in prison dress, with standard issue plimsoles and everything. One thing I didn't see any sign of were handcuffs, which was a bit of a relief I suppose...We were allowed to sit with Mark outside in the shade, not inside at tables like I imagined from TV, and definitely not through glass with a telephone! So that was good too, I could actually give him a hug!

He was predictably, very surprised to see me there, but good surprised! He didn't think I would be coming back, and one thing which did actually make him light up was when he realised that I will be here for 2years so he will get out before I go back. Maybe even after serving 1yr of his sentence he will go on probabtion. In many ways he was still the smiling, chatty young man I remembered, but he was definitely very troubled. He kept talking about the problems he was having within the prison, with the other prisoners forming what he called Gangs, and the tension with the guards. Apparently he has been getting trouble because, he says, he is one of only two 'coloureds' out of the 700 prisoners. It's been hard for me to understand but there does seem to be almost as strong a divide between coloureds and blacks, as there is between blacks and whites. Mark said that he has been accused of making chair legs into weapons by sharpening them, but he said it wasn't him, just someone decided to turn him in for it because he is different, so can be a scape goat for them. Apparently the whole 'drama' as he called it, started on Friday when he was accused, and they had just been questioning and beating him for it, just before we got there. It is illegal for the guards to beat them but he said they all do anyway. He was really anxious and talked about it alot, he was worried about what they would do to him when he got back. One good thing that came out of my visit was that he said the fact that a white lady had visited him might make the guards lay off him a bit. They would be wondering who I was, and he said he would lie that I was his lawyer, and that my husband is a magistrate!! I think he is right that my visit did have an impact and hopefully it will be a protective one for him.

Apart from telling me about his troubles in the prison, we did manage to talk a bit about his future and I tried to encourage him to continue with his studies. He is going to start an engineering qualification which will teach him how to do things like fixing a boiler, so when he leaves he will be able to get an assistant's job. Hopefully he can also find a way of getting back to school so he can finish grade 12 and matriculate [graduate from high school]. If he can do that then he will have the option of later being able to go onto further education, but he really needs to graduate from secondary school to have a hope of being something successful. The problem is that when he gets let out he doesn't have a home to go to, and St Anthony's won't be taking him back again. I just don't know where on earth he is going to be able to get accomodation from! Now that he has a criminal record he's not going to be able to find a foster home, and besides, he will be 21yrs when he leaves. But we will cross that bridge when we come to it. I say 'we' because I really feel like I have a duty to do my best to help this boy. If he was still in the Home I would be helping him through his last year of studies, just because he made a mistake and ended up somewhere else doesn't mean that I will just forget about him. He really does have no one. And I couldn't live with myself just cutting off all contact with him. I already think about him so to do nothing would be ignoring my conscience. Hopefully we can take things slowly and I will visit him every fortnight, maybe taking him some books and studying with him...just to keep his mind focused on the academic goals he used to have. He could be so much more than an engineering assistant, he should go into teaching or even social work. The best social workers are those who have been through the systems as a child and now what kind of support they needed when they were in that position.

I left him with a letter I had written last night, where I had tried to put into words everything I wanted to say to him, just incase it didn't come out right face to face. I'm really glad I did and I hope that letter will be the start of a friendship between us which will have a positive impact for Mark. This first meeting has left me quite shaken and again emotionally drained...but then all this I know is simply a reaction to what I see him suffering, and so what he is experiencing must be so many hundred times worse. Hopefully the little I can do and the support I can offer will be the start of a new future for him.
x

Day 19: Making myself a life of my own here...

Dear lovely readers...I hope there are some of you out there! Sorry I haven't written for a week, I can't believe how quickly this week has gone - twice as fast as the one before! It really seems like only yesterday that it was my birthday. It must be the fact that I have started work at the school and have more to do with my days that the time has started to fly.
It was a good week! After my first day at school on my birthday I taught on the tues, wed and thurs; only about 5 hours but it was really good. I have four classes, all grade 8 [with ages from 12-16years], three classes of 67 and one of 70 students. On my first real lesson the class were so excited to have me that I didn't realise I over ran and was there for 3 periods, not 1! They wanted to have photos with me and in the end we went outside so we could stand somewhere and fit the whole class in one photo. Then I went and said 'hello' to the children I had taught last year, it was so nice to see their familiar faces - and to see their reaction when they saw me! One boy who spoke to me was so lovely, he shook my hand and said he was so happy to see I had kept my promise and come back. I think I have gained the respect of lots of them by coming back and telling them I am here for 2 years. This boy asked if I would be teaching Shakespeare again and if I would teach them Romeo and Juliet! He wants me to put on the play with them too, he will be first in line at auditions I'm sure! That would be my ideal, if in January I can take the older classes and study poetry or a play with them, and outside of school do a production of Romeo and Juliet.
At the Home I have been becoming friends with some of the boys. I think they were a little shy of me at first but now some of them are coming out of their shells and talking to me. One is a boy called Simo who I teach in grade 8, the other likes to be called 'Steve' and I taught him last year. He is still grade 10, he had to stay back and do grade 10 again because he failed maths. But he says he has got the hang of it this year and is sure he will move to grade 11 in January.
It turns out Steve is a Liverpool FC fan! Lots of them love 'soccer' [lots of Americanisms out here] and especially English premier league. The one question every single one of my classes has asked is 'do you know David Beckham'? They all expect me to have met famous people because I live in England, I'm afraid I have to disappoint them every time because I haven't met anyone. When I mention working at Buckingham Palace they don't seem that impressed! One of the boys' questions was 'is it true a woman owns England?' Was quite funny explaining to them that we have a queen but no king. They have a zulu king here with about 12 queens! So must seem quite strange to them I suppose...
Anyway, back to the Home! So the boys here all love soccer, they played a tournament here but none of the boys have football boots. They either play in their 'takkies' [trainers] which is bad because they will ruin them, or they play barefoot. They wore a kind of kit but it didn't say St Anthony's on it..it looked like it had been donated to them from an old soccer team...So I'm hoping to raise money for a football kit and a netball kit for the Home. With the actual St Anthony's name and logo on it!
The best day of the week was Saturday, we went on their annual 'holiday' but this year due to insufficient funds they couldn't actually go on holiday...so unfortuantely it was downgraded to a daytrip to a themepark in Jo'burg called 'Gold Reef City'. We hired a coach and left at 5am, arriving at 10.30, 2 hours longer than it takes by car! The children absolutely loved it, I don't think any of them have ever been to a themepark in their lives. It was really sweet to see their reactions, they were all really scared of the rides! Even the older ones found the 'family' rides scary! Was so funny! It was so nice to spend the whole day with the kids and to actually look after them, I felt really part of the group because I had responsibility for the children for the first time. Normally I am a bit on the outside, just observing, but that day I was right in there, holding their hands and taking them round.
There was a nice moment when 3 of the children [2 boys and a girl aged about 8-11] wanted to go on the Giant Wheel so I went off with them. They didn't speak English and I don't speak Zulu so it was quite funny, they were so excited they kept trying to run off. We were in the queue and two little Afrikaan boys, about 8yr, wanted to go on the ride but couldn't without an adult, so they came in the carriage with me. So there was me [secretly terrified of heights and big wheels] with 3 zulu kids and 2 afrikaans, all of which were terrified of heights! The poor zulu kids had never seen anything like it so were shuffling on their seats making it swing, while the 2 afrikaan boys kept telling them to sit down. At one point one of the boys said 'I wish they'd stop speaking their zulu language or whatever it is, it makes me nervous'. I can just imagine his dad saying that...when kids are exposed to that kind of opinion they are going to adopt it too. I suppose race relations are changing but very slowly here. For a moment before that, sitting on this ride with half blacks and half whites, I really felt like I was witnessing the two races uniting through children.
When the rides stopped at 4pm we went back to the coach and finally got some food and drink! I couldn't believe we had all gone over 7hrs with out so much as a sip of water! The kids didn't even complain about it though. The coach park was right next to the Apartheid museum but we didn't have time to go in. I would really like to go back and visit it. There are these huge pillars outside it, each with a word in bold black letters 'equality', 'freedom', 'respect' and three others I can't remember. Parked next to ours was another coach of white teenage boys, a college trip or something, and as I walked over holding the hands of the zulu children again I thought they were staring. You know people are always wondering who you are and why you are with them, esspecially as they can hear they are talking zulu to me, I think they wonder if I can understand them or not! The white guys were still sitting there waiting when we started handing out the food and drink to the children. I took charge of the big cannister of juice [like a 30l plastic drum which was pretty hard to lift!] and all the kids were queuing up to have their cup filled. Again it was a simple action but I felt so proud and part of the community, like I was useful and had a part in caring for the children. It felt really poignant, simply standing in a car park overlooked by these huge pillars remembering the terrible past and adjusting to the present and future of race in SA, handing out drink to 86 zulu children while 20 white teenagers looked on..wondering. It felt like the perfect place for them to witness this act, the white kids I mean, the change in their world which they need to see and understand. That a white lady can live with zulus, hold their hands, drink from the same cups as them, eat the same food, and [eventually] learn to speak their language. From what I had heard from afrikaans people before I came [stuff like, you must wear 2 pairs of surgical gloves at all times when round these people] this must have been an eye-opening sight for those boys. I really hope I did make them open their eyes, and their minds.

And so, I commence my 23rd year...

Today has been a very memorable end to my 22nd year, and is the start of an even more memorable year to come I am sure. It is the first time I have really felt homesick, and only the first time I have cried since arriving...but I managed to make up for it by crying at least 6 times today, and mostly in public - oops.

As I went to sleep last night I was really anxious about what the morning would bring. I am such a 'birthday person' that the idea that it could pass largely unnoticed was such an upsetting thought! I was here last year on sept 8th which is the feast of Mary's birthday and in the Home they celebrate the birthdays of all the children staying here on that one day. I couldn't believe it and thought it was so sad that they should lose a part of their identity in this way. From what I had heard they don't really bother with any birthdays except the 21st and so I was really worried mine would go unnoticed too.

But I woke up and opened all the cards that I had been sent with in my suitcase...and had my first little cry! Then as I was making my breakfast there was knocking on the door and I opened it to find my fave sister, Sister Pauline, standing there to give me a hug and wish me a happy birthday! And she had come to invite me to supper at the convent at 6.30...so already there was hope for a bit of a birthday celebration :)

Next I went down to the main building and when Thabile and Sthabile saw me they sang me happy birthday and gave me a hug. Mr Nzuza came out to wish me happy birthday too, and said that they are so lucky to have me and really appreciate that I have come out to live with them, and that I am part of their family...so as you can imagine, this was my first tear in public!

I decided that my birthday treat to myself would be a trip down to St Lewis, the secondary school. I was so happy there last year and the kids are so much fun that I knew I would get a warm welcome there, especially if I mentioned my birthday ;) So I trotted down the track and went in to reception, then was met by the head of English. He gave me the timetable for the grade 8 classes [equivalent year7] and took me round to visit the 4 classes I will be teaching.

When he introduced me and said that I was from England and staying for 2 years the reaction was amazing - they all start clapping and whooping and banging the tables! Apparently they don't do this for every new teacher...I am rather a novelty to them as the only white teacher to ever have worked in their school. As I went round the other classes the reaction was always the same, and when I mentioned my birthday they sang to me in English and then Zulu - another tear in my eye!

When it came to the last class I decided to stay with them as their teacher had not materialised for their next lesson and so they would have spent it just sitting around anyway [this is quite normal in the school. Half the lessons never even take place, and there is no such thing as cover teachers...well, until I came along!] So I just chatted with the class and they asked me lots of questions. They tried to guess my age, which ranged from 19-28 years! I told the boy who said 28 to get out of my classroom and not come back! But most guessed 21/22 so I clearly look my age! Then to fill time I asked them if they would like to entertain me with singing and dancing, to prove that they are the most talented class in St Lewis. Immediately they started coming up, some rapping, dancing, singing and doing comedy. It was really lively and great fun - just what I remembered!

After this I went back to St Anthony's and was met by Thabile telling me that they were taking me out to lunch, to the local Spur restaurant in Newcastle, just what I had hoped! We were meant to go at 1.30, but in African time this meant 4.30!! By the time we got there I knew we would struggle to make it back for 6.30 for supper at the convent. But we had a really nice dinner, me and 5 staff from the Home. The restaurant staff came out singing and playing African drums and gave me a sparkler! Was really good fun...though I must say I noticed that I got strange looks from everyone being the only white person in a group of black people. That's the first time that I've really experienced that...no one says anything but they give you a weird look and you know they are wondering who you are and why you are with them.

I made it back just 10min late for supper and was met by yet another rendition of 'happy birthday' about the 6th of the day I think. And they had put up birthday banners, got me a cake and a present of a bar of chocolate.

After supper I realised I hadn't seen the children from the Home yet and so I popped in whilst the little ones were having tea. They sang happy birthday too and 50 little orphan kids singing to me really was the final straw and tears were streaming down my face! I told them it was because I missed my family, but then realised they must all miss their's too, and so that made me cry again, but for them this time. Their little faces seemed really surprised that an 'adult' as I seem to them, would be crying in public. So they all started coming up to give me a hug, some saying happy birthday, others just trying to comfort me. I couldn't seem to stop crying, but really it was just because they are all so lovely and it's so sad that they are living away from loving parents [although loving parents don't exist anywhere for them, unlike me who speaks to them everyday on the phone].

So it really was an emotional and eye opening birthday, that has left me exhausted mentally, physically and definitely emotionally. But I really have a renewed sense of my place in this Home and where my skills can be best put to use. It's all about the children, they are first and foremost to me, and I can't wait to start having a positive impact on their lives and helping them in any way I can...
x

Memoir on a birthday eve

As I type this I'm sitting in the dark trying to get this post done before my laptop battery dies. The electricity has been playing havoc for a few days now, it flicks off every few minutes and I can't get it to go back on this time. Hopefully the freezer won't have defrosted by the morning!
I've had an eventful few days, have been to Durban for a careworkers meeting and we had sports day here at St Anthony's yesterday. It was good fun, but a bit of a wash out!! Toto [sp?] was right when he guessed it rains down in Africa...it really can rain! And I've seen at least 6 lightning storms since I arrived, really huge flashes of lightning..the children found it funny that it scared me.
I have some more anecdotes to tell but that will have to wait until I have some electricity,
much love x

Day Six: 13th Oct 2009

It is almost a week since I left England and yet it feels like a month! Time goes very slowly when every minute you are encountering new and strange people...and have to sit in silence while everyone around you talks a language you can't understand!
My work hasn't really started yet, I have been setting up a cell phone and internet - cell phone took one day, internet 4 days! But finally, today it is all sorted and I have internet on my own laptop, wherever I am. And I have been trying to get to know the children, again the language is a big barrier. Strangely enough for me, I have discovered the way to overcome this is through SPORT! There is a sports day coming up at the weekend and the girls are playing netball, so I pretended I knew what I was doing and refereed them one afternoon. Then the next day they were short of players so I joined in!! 5 years since I played but I didn't seem to do too badly. My team were winning 7-0 and the others were getting frustrated so I swapped sides. Then the other team scored again and again in a row [my new team] and so there were more arguments! I knew they were talking about me because I kept hearing 'Auntie Rebecca'...they seemed to think I was the secret to success, haha. So they have asked me to play on the team on Sat! Apparently I am allowed even though I count as staff.
Through netball I have started to become good friends with the teenage girls, tonight I went round to help them with their homework, but basically we just try speaking English and they try teaching me Zulu. They are really pleased that I am trying to learn Zulu and seem to take it as a real honour. I couldn't imagine going to live among them and not making an effort, that would seem so rude! But apparently other people that have stayed there have never learnt more than 'hello, how are you?' So I will keep trying and prove that I am committed and want to be part of the community. It would be so much more interesting if I knew what everyone was saying! Instead of being in my own little world, just watching the world go by, hearing but unable to listen!
My next plan is to see about visiting the local primary and secondary schools, it was so much fun last year I'm really excited about going back. Hopefully I will be allowed 2 or 3 mornings a week to go and teach in the secondary school.
Hope you are all well, missing you all and sending my love xxx
p.s. Thank you Anna and Sarah for my letters! I would love to have you as pen pals, and just as soon as I can find paper and an envelope I will write to you x

DAY ONE: 8th Oct 2009

I landed safely at 8.30am and was picked up by two of the careworkers from St Anthony's. The day got off to an unhealthy but YUMMY start with a NANDOS for breakfast! Oh yes, I ate chicken and chips at 9am :s ...made me feel a bit queasy actually.
Got to the orphanage at 3.30pm having slept a lot in the car, was welcomed by a special lunch in my honour with lots of the careworkers and staff - and a 'welcome home Becky' banner! Then I went and saw the kids - got lots of cuddles off the ones who knew me, but 50% of the children are different from last year so they just looked pretty stunned when they saw me!!
MY HOUSE IS LIKE HOME SWEET HOME! I have covered my bedroom with photos, wall hangings and bunting :D It is lovely and clean and I have been given lots of good food - the stuff they cook is awesome, and the cook is going to teach me how she does it :)
I have a visitor in the house with me tonight - an ultra cool nun called Sister Lucia who has leant me her mobile so I could speak to mum and dad [my phone has given up the ghost] and her internet dongle - which is how I am on now!
Hopefully buy my own phone and internet on Saturday.
LOVE YOU ALL - sorry for the rushed-ness of this message :s don't want to use too much of her credit!
xxxx

Getting it together...

It is 10 days until I leave for Africa and I am trying to get my life together...into 2 suitcases in fact! Leaving the country for 2 years destined for a third world country and only 30kg or so to play with really makes you think about what Balloo and Mowgli were always on about...the 'bare necessities'. My priorities are clothes, make up, dvds and photos! But I'm sure when I spend a few weeks there I will find I have only worn 10% of all the clothes I take out, and when my last speck of Body Shop powder is gone I will just get over it, and when I experience a power cut during an episode of One Tree Hill I will find life goes on without dvds too! But I will seriously be needing those photos, no matter what else is going on in my head, if I take 5 packs of blu-tac and all my photos and wallpaper the cottage with them...I know that will make it feel like home. If home is the people who surround you...I'm going to cover every brick with a smiley face of someone I love and make it feel like home. So each of you...you may think you are firmly grounded on British soil, but while I'm away there will be a little piece of you alive on my wall and making me feel loved and strong enough to face the world outside my door x