The People Are Gone and the Cats Have Moved In – South Africa Goes on Strike

South Africa is now going on its third week of the public sector strike. At first I was not fazed, thinking for some reason Bushbuckridge (the sub-district I work in) would not be participating. But wow have I had a rude awakening. I experienced my first struggle only the second day of the strike. I was leaving work at 4:00pm having arrived early that day at 6:30am and found the front gates blocked by protesters as well as huge rocks and random scrap metal blocking the exit. I promptly turned around, realizing that I had never really investigated the hospital premises and didn’t even know if there was another exit. After driving around for 15minutes I was finally directed by a nice man who had had the same problem earlier that day.

Still believing the strike was kind of a joke, I showed up to work the next day finding the entire road to the hospital blocked. I parked in the closest parking lot and walked in. People around me were yelling and chanting and there was one guy hanging off the gate entrance leading the chants, they all had shirts and looked rather organized. I tried to sneak by only realizing seconds later that it is hard for a white person in this town to sneak anywhere. I was yelled at in different languages but I just smiled and waved and didn’t have a problem.

I walked into the hospital to see a boy sitting with his mom on the step next to the outpatient department crying. I stopped to say hi and see what was going on. His mom explained that he had been badly burned all over his body in an accident and no one was at the hospital to care for him. I had his mom follow me back to our office and was able to track down a doctor that lives near me. He was willing to help and the boy was finally cared for 4 hours later. This is when I finally realized the impact of the strike. I started looking around the hospital finding most of the once full hospital (being the largest public hospital in the entire sub-district) now only littered with people too sick to get out of bed and go home.

Three weeks later, the hospital is completely empty and the strike continues although, the workers on strike seem to take a two hour lunch break between 12pm and 2pm (random, I know). I walked through the female surgical ward today to find cats sleeping on beds once used for women after delivery. The sheets on all the beds have been torn off and the smell of old trash takes your breath away when walking down the halls. The pillows that were on only every other bed have now been ripped to pieces and feathers litter the hallways. This place once full of people, now looks like an abandon building.

As the public sector continues to negotiate with the government for higher wages the people in the community continue to suffer. I have heard a number of stories already of sick people having nowhere to go and those trying to collect their ARV treatment are scared to even try to enter the hospital. Private sector organizations and businesses are also starting to be impacted, the grocery store was forced to close their doors and our organization has been threatened twice now to close our doors.

We are hoping this strike ends soon but currently there is no end in sight. All we know it is the worst strike most of the residents of Bushbuckridge have ever seen.

Part I: Storm Chasers on the Garden Route - Guest Blog Sonja Thomas

Where in the world can you cuddle with lion cubs, witness a family of baboons skedaddle across the street and play with 3 week old puppies at a B&B? South Africa, baby.

It was ages ago when I booked my flight to visit Shira that it always felt like a long way off and now it's so hard to believe it's only a memory. The weeks leading up to take off, we bounced emails back n forth trying to decide where to go and what to do. Who knew that no matter what planning was made on our end, Mother Nature had a whole other adventure in mind.

Shira, Kate and I flew to Cape Town (immediately after my 17+ hour flight to Jo'berg) ready to hike Table Mountain which promised an amazing view of the city and ocean below. Unfortunately the sky heavy with fog, known as a "table cloth", made visibility impossible. So, we nixed the hike, snapped a few picss and headed out to Stellenbosch wine country. The best was the Wine and Chocolate Experience at the Waterford. Shiraz with Masala Chai Dark, Cabernet Sauvignon with Rock Salt Dark and Rose Geranium Milk Chocolate paired with Heatherleigh Natural Sweet...amazing.

We continued on to Hermanus and spent the night at the cutest (and my first ever) B&B. Horrible hurricane force winds throughout the night convinced me that our teeny tiny car rental, the Great White Spark, had blown away. The only damage done, however, was that our whale tour was cancelled. After much pouting and discussion on whether to move on or stay an extra night, we wandered out onto a rocky cliff and spotted a whale!

Two tail waves and water spouts later, we were smiling and satisfied, so we continued driving on the Garden Route. And so begins the chase...from here on out for the next 3 days we were followed by a never-ending storm. One minute baby blue skies, the next, dark menacing clouds followed by a steady downpour. Commence whining about a horrible trip, right? Wrong! This was the most awesomest trip ever!!!

Along the 6 hour drive to Wilderness, we witnessed some of the most beautiful scenery in the world...mountains covered in thick brush, multi-colored rocky mountains, lush green landscapes...pictures don't do it justice. Although we wind up and around and drive through these mountain ranges, one would swear it was a movie image backdrop. With a copy of Lonely Planet as our guide, we visit two Berry Farms in Swellendam, sampling tasty fresh berry ice cream and sun-dried tomato mustard. At a quick petrol stop in Ladismith, since there's no tours at the local cheese factory, we conduct our own taste test and purchase 3 delicious blocks of cheese; Edam the winner, followed closely by Ladismither.

In Wilderness, I enjoy my first taste of Amarula, a Cream Liqueur, reminiscent of Bailey's, made with the fruit from the marula tree. Cute side note: Elephants love the taste of marula fruit and will go to great lengths to get it, subsequently becoming drunk. You tube has tons of videos of the tipsy effect. We also stumble upon the "Map of Africa", a viewpoint of mountains to the right, where one is shaped like the continent, hence the name (which we didn't learn until days later) outlined by the Kaaimans River and to the left the deep blue waters of the Indian Ocean.

Next stop, Knysna, my favorite town along the Garden Route. While here we visit the famous King Edward VII Outeniqua Yellowwood Tree in Knysna Forest, believed to be over 650 yrs old. The forest was once home to herds of 600 elephants of which now only 3 remain. My absolute favorite scenic moment was on top of the Spitskop. Somehow Shira navigated the Great White Spark up the steep, one lane gravel trail, with nothing but a "straight to your death drop" on either side to a breath-taking panoramic view of the forest and Knysna area.

The beauty didn't end here. Whether on the beach, atop one of the Heads, or walking a wooden plank above the crashing waves, the views of the Knysna Lagoon and Indian Ocean are indescribable. We even saw a seal while driving around Leisure Island.

Our last stop was Port Elizabeth where we visited the Seaview Game Park, my visit pick during the planning process. During the drive we spot wildebeests, duikers, antelope, zebras, and a family of giraffes. On foot, we see lions, including white ones, meerkats, a caracal, a crocodile, and 2 baby tigers. But the best was paying an additional 50 rand to play with five 4 month old lion cubs. And to my astonishment, they weren't soft to the touch, but rather quite coarse, but nonetheless super adorable. I OD'd on cuteness!

Thus, concludes our chasing storm adventure along the Garden Route and the first half of my trip in SA. Next stop, Acornhock and Kruger.

World Cup Fever

Today is the start of the world cup and until today I had seen no sign of excitement from the people in Acornhoek. However, that quickly changed this morning as I left my house at 6:45am for a run. As I approached the main road, 3 children surrounded me. One was wearing jeans and a bafana bafana (this is the South Africa soccer team and it means “boys boys”) T-shirt, the other was wearing a sweatshirt and a bafana bafana hat, and the third boy had the South African flag drabbed around his shoulders. They started running next to me singing Waka Waka, the official World Cup 2010 song by Shakira.

As we ran the boys started taking off their bafana bafana gear and dressing me with it. Before I knew it I was running down the road with a bafana bafana hat, t-shirt, and the South African flag tied around my waist. Every car that passed honked their horn and flashed their lights yelling in Xitsonga, “United We Stand.” Most cars were decked out with South African flags. I thought for sure the boys would soon grow tired and stop running but I was wrong and pleasantly surprised. The more cars that honked the faster the boys ran.

They introduced themselves to me as Jeffrey, Sylvester, and Patrick. They were brothers and from the local rural development project (low-income housing) across the street from where I live. The oldest boy was 15 years old and was in clearly better shape than me. The boys ran ahead doing soccer drills as I kept a steady, slower pace behind them. They continued to circle back and at one point even pushed me up a hill. The boys were glowing with excitement. They told me it was a new South Africa and they loved Afrikaners. I explained to them that I was from the United States and they began running circles around me. Patrick then said, “This is a great day. We run hand and hand with our American friend and we celebrate all together.” As we continued on together, the youngest Sylvester, grew tired and I decided to give him a piggy back ride, it seemed like the only option to continue our celebration together and I was just praying he would get sick of it sooner than later.

As we continued along the road, we passed over 50 people walking into town (more than I have ever seen while running). With each passing person the boys would stop and give them a high five (which I had just taught them minutes earlier). Every group of people had a vuvuzela in hand and some type of bafana bafana gear. After 11km we finally arrived back at my place and the boys each gave me a hug and suggested it would be a good idea if I continue to train with

them.

Everyone will be leaving work today at 1:00pm to celebrate the World Cup in South Africa – the first time ever on the African Continent and I am happy to say that I finally feel the excitement!! (All of the pictures are from later that day).

Coming Home

Order to Illegal Foreigner to Depart From Republic. This is the official deportation letter administered by the Republic of South Africa. How, you may wonder, do I know this? Well for those of you that know me well, know that this is exactly the type of stuff that happens to me. I am officially being deported from South Africa! Yes, you read that right.

So here is the story………

I have been flown by my company to Pretoria (the capital) on 4 different occasions to meet with the Department of Home Affairs (the department that handles visas). However, in typical Africa fashion we were told something different each time. Just as background, you can not apply for a charitable work permit if you have more than one visitors visa in your passport hence, the reason I did not just leave the country and return again. My visa officially expired in April and I was told I had to turn in my passport for proof that I was in the midst of applying for a charitable work permit. Although, apprehensive about turning over my passport I felt I had no other option. This was also the point that we were told that my application was incomplete and I needed police clearance from my country of origin. To the company this meant FBI clearance. I applied for FBI clearance and was told by them that this would take at least 13 weeks. Little did I know I didn’t have that kind of time. Three weeks later my passport was magically sent, via mail, to my employer. The package had no note, just my passport, my vaccination certificate, and my medical reports. My employer immediately went back to Home Affairs and asked why my passport was sent back with no visa. They said that my application was incomplete and I was now here illegally.

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it – all of this was unbenounced to me. I was living out my daily life in Acornhoek and had no idea that I was illegally here. After several trips by the company back and forth to Home Affairs they finally conceded to the fact that I would need to come home to work out the visa from the states. Over the past two weeks they have been arranging my travel home.

Today, I arrived in Pretoria to get a deportation letter from Home Affairs. Yes, an official deportation letter. We were instructed by Home Affairs to go to another Home Affairs in the area to get the correct form. This one was a bit out of the city in a clearly seedy neighborhood and when we pulled up there were lines miles long. You could tell people had been camping there for days. As we approached the premises, I noticed a strong police presence and someone was in the midst of being beaten with a baton and subsequently removed. I was becoming a bit timid and starting to understand the seriousness of being deported. As we walked up to the fence, the guard asked me what I needed. Being the only white person in the area he seemed a bit confused as why I was there. I told him what I needed and he immediately escorted my inside with two armed police officers fending off the swarm of people around me trying to get in.

The building was just as packed as it was outside. People were everywhere and it seemed like total chaos. I was asked by the guard for my passport. He said something angrily to the person that was with me from my company and escorted us down a long hallway, pushing past hundreds of people. Eventually we entered a large room with 6 cells filled with “prisoners” as it said on the wall. Again, people started speaking in a different language and I stood their clueless trying to interpret people’s facial expressions. As voices began to get louder and louder I knew this was a bad sign. After about 10mins, everyone became calm again and the head officer asked us to follow him to his office. As we walked I turned to the person with me and asked what had just happened. He said that they wanted to arrest me since I was here illegally. Basically, he said, they wanted a bribe. As we entered his office I tried my hardest to compliment him about everything – hoping this might help smooth things over and I also tried to insert the fact that not all Americans are made of money (A typical impression of Americans here).

After another 10 minutes waiting for the officer to clean the newspapers and crossword puzzles from his desk, oh and finish his coffee. He began filling out my deportation papers. He mentioned three more times that he should arrest me and each time I responded with some type of compliment trying everything to make sure I would walk out of that office with a new friend. Another 30 minutes went by and I was handed my Order to Illegal Foreigner to Depart From Republic piece of paper. I went to shake Bart’s hand and he hugged me – guess my strategy worked. “Good luck,” he said “and thank you for all the work you are doing here.”

All this being said I am returning to the states! I will be home long enough to work out my visa from that side. Hopefully, this can serve as a lesson to everyone that you should probably work out these details in advance and while mine seems to have worked out so far – the experience has been less than desirable. See you all soon!

Tuesday Night in The Bush

5:30pm the phone rings......“Hey there, you home” says Tian. “Yes, what’s up?” I said. “Want to go baboon hunting?” Tian says. “Umm of course,” I say. As Tian pulled up outside my place, I came out excited for the hunting ahead. He looked down and laughed and told me to go put on proper shoes. I was a little confused so I asked if we would be walking or driving. “No, we will drive,” he says. Still confused as to why my flip flops were not proper I obediently went back inside to change.

I hopped into his buckie (aka truck) and we went barrelling down the dirt road. We travelled along the perimeter of the property that is next to Kruger National Park. I had my eyes peeled in an effort to see any possible game on our way to shoot some baboons.

The dirt road began to get worse and worse till the bushes on either side of us were coming into the buckie. Tian stopped and opened his door. I timidly asked, “where are you going.” “Umm baboon hunting,” he sarcastically replied. A little perplexed by the fact that he had previously told me we were driving, I slowly got out of the car not wanting to be a burden. I carefully placed my feet in the bush, since I am constantly warned of stepping on a Puff Ader – apparently one of the many poisonous snakes to be wary of. However, I have started to notice that they say that about everything.

Anyways, I followed Tian through the now thick bush. He of course was in shorts and flip flops and I was in long pants and closed shoes yet still having trouble keeping up with him as the thorny bushes would pull against him and smack right into my legs. He didn’t seem to notice so I tried to keep my screams in pain to a minimum. After 15 minutes he stopped and turned around to tell me to be quiet. Little did I know that my constant swatting of flies might warn the baboons that we were coming.
We finally arrived to a little clearing and Tian motioned to me to sit down. I looked down and saw a pile of ants, I decided to squat instead. After 5 minutes of silence, squatting, and mosquitoes swarming my head, I decided to get a bit more comfortable and lean against the fence separating us from Kruger. As soon as I moved, Tian grabbed me and whispered, “What on earth are you doing that is electric.” Hmm, oopps, guess I forgot that part. I conceded and sat in the ant pile hoping the baboons would come soon.

As dusk turned to night, Tian stood up and said “Ok, lets go” doesn’t seem like they are coming tonight. I quickly stood up, pissed, I just spent 25 minutes hiking through the bush, 5 mins squatting, and another 30 mins sitting in an ant pile.
As we tromped back to the buckie, Tian turned and asked if I wanted to try again tomorrow. Umm, “No, Thanks” I answered. “Patience my dear, patience,” living here for a year should give you that.

So while we did not even see a baboon to even think about shooting. I was able to learn a little bit about the thing I have never had - patience. Maybe I should try again.

Life Just Isn't Fair

As some of you may remember, I posted a blog a month or so ago about the beauty of rain and the amazing things it brings people who are lacking many of the luxuries we in the states are so use to. However, this weekend I saw the destruction that rain can cause and the awkward balance of a praised position and an incalculable killer.

It has been raining pretty consistently for 4 days now, sometimes light sprinkles other times so hard that you couldn’t see a foot in front of you. In fact, my front windows are now caked in brown dirt from the rain hitting the dirt around my house so hard. Seeing as it was a long weekend I didn’t venture out much in the community but only found solace in the fact that I knew the community would be rejoicing. To my dismay this notion was incorrect.

On Monday, I decided I had had enough alone time and drove into the city of Acornhoek to visit a friend. As I entered the village center, I was forced to abandon my car on the side of the road because the rain had covered up all the pot holes on the road making it un-navigable for any vehicle more or less my little VW Golf. Typically this would have annoyed me but, today, I was again happy that so many people’s prayers were answered by the rainfall.

I trudged along the side of the road up to my calves in water and sometimes losing my footing as the dirt ground underneath me had been washed away by the rain. I soon turned off the paved road and ventured down a dirt path to my friends houses. No more than 100 meters into my walk down the dirt road did I contend to the fact that I would have to put on new clothes when I arrived at her place, not because I was drenched (which I was) but because the dirt was caked over every inch of my body, even impressively, making its way up to my face.

Soon the dirt road turned into a dirt river and I looked ahead to see if maybe this was a bad idea. Ahead of me I saw what I could now make out were people swimming in waist deep water. I then realized all the shacks along this road were floating (or at least pieces of them). I quickly plunged forward not thinking about my own safety but desperate to see what was really ahead of me and if in some way I may be able to help.

At least 50 people were swimming in the dirty water ahead of me trying to savage pieces of their homes now floating swiftly along the dirt river. Children were perched on their mother’s heads so as to stay safe from the swift moving waters. Higher ground was blanketed with people sitting and watching as their loved ones pulled out the pieces of their homes. They were all surprisingly calm.

I immediately thought back to a conversation I had had in the office last month, the girls were telling me about rainy season and the scary anticipation, mainly because most of the people in the community don’t know how to swim resulting in a large number of unnecessary/ accidental deaths which happens to be the second leading cause of death in this area (behind HIV/AIDS).
While my impulse was to help, having learned how to swim basically before I could walk, I realized I was useless. I called my friend who I was supposed to be visiting and told her I would have to come another day. This was all I could handle for one day and the feeling of uselessness and sadness was inevitable. How could a people that suffer and endure so much on a regular basis be thrown just one more hurdle in life! I guess my mom was right when she use to tell my brother and I that “life just isn’t fair.”

Parental Intermission

I apologize for my long hiatus away from my blog. I promise I am back and the stories will continue to come. My parents came to visit me at the beginning of March (ok I realize it is April and I have still not posted anything) and we had an amazing two weeks together.

We started off our journey by venturing around JoBerg finding it surprisingly vast and not as scary as anticipated. We were lucky enough to have our very own tour guide, a friend of mine whom I met while living in Acornhoek. She was from Soweto, so she offered to take my parents and I on a sightseeing tour. We were lucky enough to experience the city from a local’s perspective perhaps making the place much less scary than all the travel books made it out to be.

We stopped by her parents’ house in Soweto to drop off her children and meet her parents. They were a delightful couple and her father joined us for part of the tour. Her father quickly reminded us of the dangers of JoBerg. He was blind and we soon learned it was because of an attempted robbery where the gun man hit him with the gun in the head resulting in his blindness. It was clear that violent crime in the city saw no color, size, or shape but rather just the end product of its potential success. After a day in JoBerg we headed south to Cape Town, the city in South Africa everyone seems so proud of.

Being a typical Gitomer family vacation we did not hang out in the city long but, rather drove to areas much less traveled. People in South Africa were right, the area along the coast was beautiful. The first night we had dinner on a patio listening to the sounds of the penguins on the beach, which sound much like a donkey braying. Later we traveled to the southernmost point of South Africa, where the Atlantic meets the Indian Ocean. Along the way we stayed at some of the most amazing B&Bs, each with its own unique setting and character. We had a wonderful week driving around the southern coast and into the wine country of South Africa.

We left Cape Town to start our journey to my home in Acornhoek. We arrived at the Nelspruit, Mpumalanga Kruger National Park airport on a fairly cool afternoon. Not typical for the time of year and making my parents question my constant bickering to them about the hot weather. After a short stop in Nelspruit (the largest town near me) we began driving along the Panorama Route to Acornhoek. The countryside by where I live is unbelievably beautiful with rolling green hills and a huge canyon that goes right through the area ( kind of equivalent to our Grand Canyon). After a few small hikes to waterfalls and some spectacular views we arrived at my house on Orpen road.

You could tell my parents were uneasy as they entered not knowing what to expect – I guess I set the bar extremely low so as not to get up expectations. This worked well because they were pleasantly surprised with my accommodations. My parents spent the next week coming with me to meetings and doing some sightseeing on their own. We also did an amazing night drive in Kruger one evening seeing a lion, elephants, rhinos, and buffalo.

Upon arrival home one night, my parents were even lucky enough to see Elle (the 8 ton elephant that frequents our area by plunging through the electric fence)! She was back, pulling down trees and eating as much as her little heart contented. This night however, she was right next to my house. Literally, my parents and I hugged each other as we watched her eat about 10 feet from my kitchen window. She is an amazingly large creature and it made you realize the ease at which she could crush your house if she felt the desire.

After another week in the bush at my humble abode my parents had to head out to the reality of a 15 hour plane flight and work. It was wonderful to have them here! And remember all visitors are more than welcome.