Category: Africa 2012
Joburg
To those of you who check in here to see whether I managed to survive my trip and the cold morning at Johannesburg bus station – I did. It actually wasn’t too bad at all.
I had my blanket and spoke most part of the night with the 23 year old South African guy next to me. He recently managed to get his girlfriend pregnant and has got some problems, so he is thinking about changing his name and escaping to Mozambique to “start something” – as in a little shop selling whatever. He will, of course, go get the girl and the baby if everything goes well.
He asked me what I do but had never heard of the UN or anything like it so it was an interesting task explaining that to him from scratch in basic English. He thought the idea sounded like something that will never work. Also, he doesn’t vote because he doesn’t trust politicians and he didn’t have a school desk when he was a child. He has a VISA debit card though and he showed it to me, but he doesn’t really understand what it’s supposed to be used for so he just carries it around.
Today, he knows how to read and write, but mostly he just sings. His big dream is to own something one day, maybe a car, or other things. “Because life is good when you can own things.”
While we were in the bus, the guy called his girlfriend who has been waiting for him in Pretoria for two months. “Hey, come out, I’m outside your door!” he said and hung up, and when the girl called back five minutes later, he wouldn’t answer. “Na, I’m just playin’ wit her. Is not sirias.”
I arrived at Park station a bit late which was great because I didn’t have to wait for my train. Remember the ladies room i posted a photo from in April? So, it was horrendous then but looks completely different now. Beautifully refurbished with many more toilet booths and super fresh – except that… “Sorry, you can’t wash your hands.” And why? Because the pipes and some other parts were stolen. “And darling, you should see the men’s room! Everything got stolen there in just a couple of weeks.” laughed the lady responsible for handing out toilet paper. “You can’t put these rolls in the booths, they will disappear immediately.”
There you have it. A little bit of welfare, plus poverty, corruption and low standard – and the way these four factors neatly connect and loop their away into frustration.
As you already know, I’m not a huge fan of Joburg. I am, however, a very big fan of the friends that picked me up from the train station. Remember Axel that I introduced you to in February? He’s got a friend now. Her name is Selassie. Such a great name.
And me? I’m on WiFi for the first time since forever, thus the photo-bomb and jibberish. Sorry!
(I still don’t understand that I will be in Copenhagen and Malmö soon.)
Crossing the border
The Calm before the Cold
Delivered my work on deadline. Packed my bags. Ticked everything off of my to do list. Called friends. Had lunch. Painted my nails. And now? Now there’s nothing left but the sun and an embracing calm.
I’m in limbo and I can’t really do anything, you know this feeling, right? When you just have to empty your mind and wait. God, I can’t wait for the busride!
Might change my mind later as the 10h bus will drop me off at the following scenario: 4.30am in the morning. Dark. Minus degrees. Packed with thieves… and I’m all alone. Eish!
Bringing my sleeping bag for the bus. I can handle many harsh conditions. I can sleep on the ground, go days without really eating, walk around with 30kg on my back.. But what I really can’t handle, at all, is cold. God, I hate cold, it’s impossible for me to function normally, sleep or do anything when I’m really cold. Johannesburg bus station at 4am will thus be a challenge, and I don’t even have a proper jacket.
But right now, at this moment, I’m still in the sun – 30 degrees here today. Thank you for warming me, Maputo, I like you too.
Something in the Air
Killing Saudades
Me & children in a school in Chibuto. Gaza province, Mozambique
The matte veil of whateverness that had been blurring my existence the past month was suddenly pulled off as I clicked the confirm button on the BA homepage, buying my ticket to Europe.
I woke up in the middle of the night in Chibuto, off the grid, accompanied by nothing but the full moon and a strong wish to see my mother. I thought about all the people I had met, children orphaned by deadly diseases and families separated by the struggle for employment and survival. I couldn’t find the logic in deliberately putting myself in the state of missing my close ones so much it would hurt me. Of course, one could argue that the price I had to pay for my flight can’t be justified for the few days I will get in Sweden. For me, however, happiness has always had a higher value than money and experience has taught me that the rest always can be sorted out with priorities. In other words – I’m coming home, baby.
I bought my ticket already the next day in the car on the way back to Maputo, using my phone as a modem. When I had confirmed the payment and received the e-ticket in my inbox, everything suddenly made perfect sense again and all grey feelings disappeared as if they had never been there.
I happily informed family and friends, and was met by excited and heart-warming hurraying. Friends are arranging their flights, my mother is asking what I would like for dinner. All this love, I’m so overwhelmed! I am working on a schedule to make sure I get all my millions of errands arranged, I can’t wait!
Knowing that I will spend a week in Sweden gave sense to everything else and has filled me with new energy to continue doing what I do. I am already starting to long back to Mozambique, to this beloved job, to the summer that is approaching, and to spending more time with the family I have become a part of.
What I was suffering from was clearly the state that in Portuguese is referred to as saudade. A very strong feeling that there is no real translation for in English, but I can assure you it’s a pretty damn real one. Anyway, that’s all gone now – I’m back!!
!
Want to learn how to write?
I remember the school desks we had in primary school. They could be opened and used for storing books, pens and those colourful erasers that smelled nice. We would all fasten pictures and drawings on the inside of our desk to make it more personal – it was our own sacred little space in school.
A school desk fills more functions than being comfortable and helping to keep order by giving every child their designated space to sit in in the classroom. A school desk is of huge support when learning how to write. The hard surface, the position of the hands – remember how ugly those first A’s of yours were and how difficult it was to write them? Now imagine if you had to lay down on the cold ground or dirty sand with a soggy notebook on top of your backpack while learning this so valuable skill.
Ideally, there would be school desks for all children, but there are many reasons to why this is not the case, poverty being the main one.
So if you need to choose, you to make sure that at least all first and second graders get access to school desks. And that’s what UNICEF is doing in the Child Friendly Schools initiative.
Because just as I would take my school desk for granted when I was a kid, it is indeed an essential tool. For supporting the children in learning how to write, and for their growing backs to stay heathy.
The photo above is from a school I visited today in Gaza. I can’t wait to show you more photos.
I just came back to Maputo after another four days in the field, by the way. Again, completely exhausted and overwhelmed with impressions – I absolutely adore this job.
Stories worth sharing
I can’t write anything here without mentioning the 17 year old girl I just met. She takes care of her younger siblings all by herself and is determined to finish school and become a nurse. Keeping orphan children in school here is not easy, but the four siblings all study and they all have dreams, and I’m trying hard not to be too sentimental but that little family made me keep my breath.
The photo above is of a girl I met earlier today while talking to some children that also go to a school here in Chibuto.
The interactive part of today’s work has just ended and we’re on our way back to that guesthouse off the grid where I will try to compile all my impressions and chaotic notes in English, Portuguese and Shangana into stories I can actually share.
Out of reach
So it seems I will be staying in a place where I’m off the grid. That’s less nightly blogs for you and more sleep and isolation for me. Now we’re going to a place where we can find food so I might have network at some point to publish this. Here’s a photo of the big car with the antenna again, and a glimpse of the driver.
I’m in the midst of deciding whether to go to Europe for a week or not, it’s a very expensive and complicated trip but my contract with UNICEF got extended so if I don’t go now I won’t be able to go before sometime in December. What do you say?