It's Friday night here in Cape Town, and I'm feeling quite good, which is surprising considering my week. So here it goes:
This week started on Tuesday, as it was a long weekend in South Africa. I wasn't feeling my best on Tuesday morning, I had a cold, but it was just starting out, then mid afternoon it hit home with force. Combine that with the fact that my days have been booked solid because I have to fit 5 days work into 4! I had a new class starting, and a huge class from the previous week finishing up, but this was just work. Work was made so much more difficult when I found out that one of the staff (not one I knew) had been killed in a hijacking on the weekend, a guy just like these guys in my class, a hijacking that left a grand total of two dead, one paralysed.
After a start like that I was thrilled to find out Tuesday that the bus company had gone on strike, so after an exhausting day I headed to the taxi rank which is crazy busy on a normal day, but when they suddenly became the sole form of transport for most of Cape Town, things went crazy. The line for Wynberg (my taxi) was about 200m long...
But you know, strikes happen, and from what I know about the bus strike, it seemed they had good reason. What gets me is that right then seemed like the best time for the taxi's to also go on strike! The taxis decided they were going to strike about the new bus system that was being built, I'm sure the timing was a mere coincidence. I hope it was well noted that when the taxi's strike most commuters call them f******** *****, but when the bus drivers strike, most commuters applauded their spirit. This seems to be because although the bus system is unreliable, it's not as horribly opportunistic and inhumane as the taxi system, where most operators would sell the seating space on the front bumper if it meant an extra rand.
I'm getting off topic; the point is that come Wednesday my only two transport options were on strike. I left early for work and basically decided to wing it, a wandered down to Main St, where all the buses and taxis usually are and found an interesting phenomenon. Nobody was on the street, not expecting there to be any transport, everyone stayed home, but here's the funny part, there were taxis, not heaps, but more than enough considering there was no one to take. So in the end it was the horribly opportunistic and inhumane characteristics of the taxis that kept some on the street, for the money. The reality was, it was very comfortable, as there were only a few people using them. Then arriving in town, it really was like a ghost town. The normally buzzing taxi rank, which only 12 hours earlier was overflowing, was deserted, the streets as well. At work I was not expecting anyone to show, I mean most of my students rely on public transport, so I was really touched when I had a nearly completely full class! I asked everyone how they made it and it was an amazing combination of hitchhiking, getting lifts from family members, walking, really amazing.
By Thursday afternoon both strikes were over and everything went back to normal, and the ladies in the office stopped laughing in my face and calling me crazy when I kept insisting that I would just catch the bus, or taxi. In the end, my commute was barely interrupted, except in the height of my cold having to wait 35mins in the freezing wind for a bus, but that's life.
So we make it to today, my cold has greatly improved and is almost gone, and I'm feeling relatively great. This was the last day for my group and they have been great, they are really lovely and have been trying so hard. During the prac lesson today they all had cameras and they made a photo shoot of themselves behind a bar, then they all wanted photos of me! During the class I got a knock on the door from one of last week's students who were there to pick up here certificate and she gave me a thank you card, which in itself is sweet, then I opened it and she had translated a message from her mum saying thank-you to me as well! I nearly cried it was so lovely!
Then this afternoon I called one of my students who had failed his exams to see what was wrong, as he had been a strong student. I won't go into details for his privacy, but the gist of it is, his brother got into drugs and is now mentally disabled and has been sent back to his home country, so his landlord kicked him out, he has been sleeping in shibeen's (township bars, very rough) and hasn't been eating. My heart broke for this guy, he is in South Africa to finish his degree and he spent his last money on my course so he could get a job to put himself through uni. The tears were a little harder to hold back this time. So my afternoon has been spent going from shelter to shelter finding him a bed, and making sure he has food to get him through. He will re-try the exams next week and get his certificate, but until then, he at least has a bed and some food...
So this week I have really been exposed to South Africa: Death, Industrial Action, Homelessness, and a wonderful spirit. There is some messed up stuff going on in South Africa, and in the short time I've been here I must admit I have felt despair, but right now, and the overwhelming majority of the time, I feel happy. I am in a place that in spite of some serious difficulties shows me warmth and happiness every day.
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