Thursday 11 April 2013

You have done with it what you could.


Friday, 15th February 2013


(Song choice for this blog entry: "Merry" – Sashamon)


“Finish every day and be done with it. You have done with it what you could. Some blunders and some absurdities no doubt have crept in; Forget them as soon as you can.


Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This day is all that is good and fair. It is too dear, with all its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on yesterdays.”


- Ralph Waldo Emerson 




I put my feet up on the dashboard and sunk low into my seat, snapping the last of my pictures, as I made my final drive back into the village. Today was my last day with the children. I knew from the start that this day would come, but my heart was still suffocated with the idea of ‘goodbyes’.

The other volunteers and I had spent a festive evening at Buccaneers Lodge and Backpackers, where we had indulged in their Mexican Night themed meal (every Thursday). We then spent the night banging on some bongo drums with the company of other tourists, our beers, and our laughter, before stumbling home around midnight across the beach to our homestead.

The children ran up to cling to the fence as we drove into the little school in the middle of nowhere on this overcast Friday morning. Every day they would repeat the same motions. They never seemed to tire of us. It made my heart clench harder.

I decided to spend the day with the pre-schoolers and their teacher (and caretaker) Mama Phumla. I will leave the rest of the story to accompany the pictures below.

After spending a week with the village kids in Chintsa East, I return to Buccaneers Lodge and Backpackers tonight where I will stay until Sunday morning. I then head to Bulungula Lodge, situated in Nqileni, one of South Africa's most rural villages. 
So SO incredible - I really wish my friends could see and experience what I have, even if it is just the past week that I have lived.

With jubilancy,
Ali.

My last day driving in to Chintsa Village, a hard reality to face.

The children on my last day, still as excited to see us driving into their school as on the first. Such deep appreciation for the small amount of attention which we give.





Ash Brooks pulling the Big Green E-Machine into our designated parking spot on the edge of the primary school's lawn, as I get out to usher the children out of the big vehicle's way for safety precautions. Heart of gold, this one.

The facilities in the rural schools are aged and damaged. Institutions such as this need all the help they can get. Even if it is as small as a pencil donation


Enthralled by the camera, still.


This photograph depicts 14 out of the 44 pre-schoolers  who attend Mama Phumla's (woman centre back) single room pre-school class. I am on the right with the big white sweater. When Mama Phumla is not busy with this pre-school, she runs a safe-house for children who are abused, neglected, or victims of alcoholic guardians. She will have anything from 10 to 30 children in her small home in the rural village per/night whom she does her best to feed, cloth and house. All on her own.

Playing with the Umlungu's (whitey's) hair. Mama Phumla's pre-schoolers and I. My last day in Chintsa Village.



In the pre-school room, curious toddlers encroach on my personal space. Too cute to shake off.


Our smiles are connected. I do not feel that this photograph needs further captioning.


Me, drawing up exercise sheets for the theme "Birds and Trees", for the learners on donated scrap-pieces of paper.


In The Big Green E-Machine. Helping this little 4-year- old hand make sense of the 'mouse'.


Ash Brooks acknowledging his pre-school student's skill developments with a high-five. One of the great faces he pulls to keep the younger children interested and motivated! :)



The beautiful Paula helping the children stand in line to collect their daily meal from the school. It was her last day with VA32'South, too.

While spending the majority of my final day with Mama Phumla and her pre-schoolers, I learnt something which was rather hard to swallow: Only 17 of the 44 pre-schoolers that she cares for are registered to be there. When I asked Phumla how much it costs to register a child, she replied R20 per/month. That is R240 a year which only 17 of the children's families can afford to cover. Often these children are dropped off at the pre-school really early in the morning, before 8am, as their parents are working far from home in different towns such as East London. As a result they often return late in the evening after school has finished. Mama Phumla watches over these children for this entire time, before returning home to care for those who form a part of her safe-house. This expense also covers one wholesome, nutritious meal per day, which in the majority of cases is the only meal which these children will see in a day. 

When I heard this truth, I came to the realisation that I had been spending over R35 on a box of Camel Light cigarettes a day (if I was only smoking a pack a day). This meant that I could almost send 2 children to school for one month in a SINGLE day with the money that I had been spending on smokes. I figure that if I am not sponsoring children with this money, I could be doing something a lot better and productive with it than buying cigarettes. I have not bought a packet of cigarettes since my birthday (1st of March) as a personal resolution. Food for thought. 

This picture: toddlers queueing for their share in lunch.


Chow-down: This is probably the most festive part of the school day for a volunteer - the act of watching the children eat their food. Hungry and eager to shove as much as they can into their mouths as fast as possible. A different culture, the children eat with their hands, smiles painted with bits of food (in this case, cooked beans).




Lunchtime at Mama Phumla's pre-school.







Lunchtime at Mama Phumla's pre-school


Saying goodbye for the last time, blowing me the kisses which I taught them.  I tried so hard not to cry, but as I watched my friend and fellow volunteer sob, I got teary-eyed too.  One of the little boys walked up to me with eyes of confusion, where I had been sitting on a broken bench out on the lawn. He sat down next to me and put the little palm of his hand on my cheek. I shut my eyes as he wiped my tears away and mumbled something in Xhosa. He was 4 years old.



2 comments:

  1. Oh Ali - you make me well up once again! Thanks for your stunning writing and pictures from your time here. It's so good to see the Friends of Chintsa feeding scheme working and ensuring that the kids in Chintsa have full tummies at least during the school day. It's thanks to people who really care and have the drive to make a change that there are initiatives like this in Chintsa.
    Well done on the none smoking - drop me an email (info@volunteerafrica.co.za) if you decide to donate those extra few rands to the feeding scheme every month - I will let you know how :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you so much for your warm words April.

    Someone approached me with regards to the feeding scheme, I am going to pass this around too :)

    love and light x.

    ReplyDelete