SURVIVAL 101

It is interesting to see how many permutations of survival there are, we of course at Botshabelo concentrate largely on physical survival and constantly live the effects of emotional and mental fall out.  The behaviour that survival prompts us to act out on others and our loved ones would in retrospect, leave us ashamed and filled with bitter regret; however, the moment takes all. The other evening a young villager begged Nicole to organize transport to go and fetch her cousin, who is critically ill with AIDS, and take him to hospital and help generally.  Nicole who was broke as usual, put on her banking hat and sent the youth out to ‘panda’(find/search)for money for petrol. This is not a good time of month on a poverty village, however, Salinas’s brother lent her a hundred rand.  Borrowing money on the village takes different forms, some try to borrow to go drinking, some to go to soccer, but everyone knows when Nicole needs money, it is urgent. Fortunately, the village Micra drives on a sniff of petrol, another workable present from our Norwegian family from Bergen[Lyderhorn Choir].  Joseph, Leigh’s partner was kind enough to drive at night, a more than risky business, to go and find her cousin, which they did. A pitiful skeleton of a man, barely able to speak, his family mostly drunk outside and very put out that we would dare want to take him to a hospital ,was what met them. The family refused to let Joseph and the cousin take the dying man.  Joseph could not fathom what the problem was, free transport and asking for nothing in return, it sounded like a no brainer to the family. They then proceeded to reminded Joseph and the Good Samaritan cousin from Botshabelo, that it is pension day in a few days and that they need his disability, and yes, we could help him after pay-out. Like most things in poverty, his life is attached to a gamble; we hope that he can survive for a few more days.

Cynthia

Talking about survival, we have a new addition to the Botshabelo family, Cynthia, she turns a two months on the sixteenth.  I was called to help the mother, who was in such pain that she could not move much to help her new born, whose  father complained that she cried incessantly from the time she was born.  I realized that she (the mother) had severe infection and that Cynthia was starving. Her milk was not strong enough.   We picked her up, helped her into the ‘Micra’ ambulance and took her to hospital.   I asked her if her mother or sister could take the baby? They refused, The mother works and her sister has her own babies and in addition, they have no bottles or formula.  She asked if we could keep the baby until she returns.   Unfortunately, the first hospital only gave her an analgesic and vitamin, Having more sustainable strength, we sent her to the second hospital [poor people’s gamble for health], but imagine, they also gave her an analgesic and iron tablets.  Realizing that the hospitals either had no qualified doctors on duty or that they had run out of antibiotics we brought her home.  We looked after her for the night and sent her to Dr Lourens, our private doctor down the road, in the morning.  He sorted out her problems, gave medication, and sent her to bed.  She survived the night, but, only turning seventeen this year, broken from the most horrendous abuses; she has not survived emotionally to care for her new baby. Her emotional and physical quotient having been used to survive her own childhood.  Her partner lost in his own confusion and misery as he watches his small family disintegrating.

 As a child she occupied all the roles, wife, mother, baby sitter, cleaner, so only began school very late and has not been able to catch up academically.  Two weeks have passed and she is still weak and not wanting to take the baby. I watch her eyes looking down at her baby, wanting to take up the challenge of motherhood but not having the energy.  The mothers’ mouth smiles but never reaches her eyes, the sad empty windows, the only glimpse of scars and brokenness that peeps out of an otherwise beautiful body. Something has switched off and we are trying to find the elusive energy to switch the ‘X factor’ on.  Normally,  our soft, large eyed babies do it for us, when, as they are born, they look at us, cause us to  fall into an everlasting love thus initiating a warrior type protection, but it seems that if one starts life having to love oneself and become the warrior to protect oneself, payment is given that can never be returned.

The college is going well. Ashley,(from Extrabold, an hotel management service),as well as Extrabold itself, have adopted the college and are providing practical training for the level three’s and a few from level two. Ashleigh has introduced us to Basil Kransdorf, among the many, who is the manufacturer of an amazing product called e’pap. He has donated a tremendous amount of this, which helped immensely during our period of no money, no food because our subsidy was paid out late. Although we are no longer starving, we are not getting a fully balanced meal with all the daily-required nutrients and this is where e’pap is playing a major role. Basil has also found us a sponsor who will sponsor e’pap to us on a monthly basis for some months.

 The Norwegians, as always, stepped up to the plate immediately and sent us money for Gift’s (teacher) salary and other aspects for the year, so the youth have a respite.  This is apart from them (the Norwegian Choir) sending us food money every month. Actually, if it was not for the Norwegian Choir from Bergen, many of the children would have had to survive in shacks with very dubious relatives.  So every night when you Norwegians sit at the table and eat, remember you are sitting with at least a hundred and fifty ‘guess who’s coming for dinner’ kids from Botshabelo.  After twenty-two years of living in poverty on Botshabelo, we can see that the only way the world will save itself is through the humanness shown by all of you out there.  God bless you all.

Jennifer, from “Building a Global Community,” (our American 501 (c) 3 partner) a lone American woman, took on our National Energy Provider singlehandedly. She harassed them to check what was going on with our account until, I believe, out of a deep feeling of surviving Jennifer and her incessant complaining, whining, harassing and hundreds of telephone calls, sorted out our account.   I believe they cancelled all their other problems just to sort out our account when she threatened to get onto a plane to come and see them personally. I guess for them the idea of this insane, lone, American energy crusader was too much for even our hardened African energy provider.  Charlene, in her usual crisp, humanitarian and efficient manner, paid a huge amount, with Daniel and Brad adding.  So we are no longer at risk of being ripped out of the grid but have to however make huge changes to our lifestyle to survive the increased energy costs.  It is costing us R18 000 a month! Not do-able at all.

Speaking of energy, fortunately, or serendipitously, our sewerage pipes blocked again!!! And while Leigh, Jawawa, Thabiso, Tami and others looked at all this useless Shit, we decided to make it work for us.  We began researching biogas,  to tell the truth, we did not have everybody convinced, while we discussed the storage and building up of gas.   We could see that we had lost our audience because they were busy playing out images of a huge shit explosion that would ultimately land on the roofs of their houses and in addition would have to help clean up. In one of the many phone conversations with Monica, a new addition to the “family” from California and who is absolutely incredible at networking (we don’t believe that there is anyone that this woman doesn’t know) managed to put us in touch with someone who knew someone who knew about Biogas and who was himself connected to Oxfam. I admit that I gave this yuppie intellectual one look and said “ yea right!”  But wow! Someone came to see us and showed us plans and then to our delight and relief, Oxfam said that they could fund two specially constructed drums or they could provide us with one drum and make it a turnkey project, we of course have opted for the two and have begun to dig.   Will keep you updated.

Our new dining hall

We survived eating off our laps for twenty-two years, no dining hall. We tried to get the children and youth to eat in the classrooms, but like all youth, they trashed the classes and the teachers demanded that we evict them.  We tried so many different methods but there is not much one can do when there is no dining hall with tables.  So we survived, not well until the Dutch Flying Carpenters, came to suss us out and fortunately they had a project cancel in Durban, so we were considered and accepted for a project.  Of course we asked for tables to eat on, and requested them to build it under the Bon Centre, which has enough space to stand upright. It was accepted and the group arrived for three weeks. Although squashed, most of us can fit.  We had to have a huge family meeting to give rules for using wood, and to waylay the usual graffiti hopefuls.  Moreover, to threaten Mapaseka and Elijah who decided that it was a perfect playground and began to run across the tables.  Eish!!!!!  [This African sound is for exasperation and phonetically sounded like [long a –as in ape then sh as in shape].  But many thanks and blessings to Paul, Titus, Piter, Yvonne, Ellis, Marleen, Niels and Sophie, being the construction team and Barbara and Otto, the organizers. All our thanks of course go to all their funders and donors as well, who made it all possible and who donated all the equipment, which was used for the construction, to Botshabelo.
There is a fire in the Village! I kid not, will show the photos tomorrow.

Strength in Compassion  Marion xxx