An unexpected meeting

A few weeks ago I got a phone call from Monique, our guest who staid with us for 2 weeks.
She informed me that three men stood at the gate and asked for help. She also told that these men take care of street kids. They would come back the next day to talk to me.

At 10 a.m. the next day I sat at the table with 4 men of Molweni. The English was poor but we understood each other well.
One of the men had opened his house for boys who don’t have a home. He told me he drives around and when he sees boys ‘roaming around’; he addresses them and asks if they have a home.

He tries to keep these boys off the street and to offer them a home. He also teaches them the value of life and tries to keep them away from all kinds of drugs.
Most of these street children are addicted to glue, a very dangerous product. Sniffing glue is an addiction that slowly attacks the nervous system with irreversible effect.
It’s painful to see how many young people are addicted to this stuff.

I was enormously impressed by what the man told me, not the fact that there are so many street children, but the fact that an elderly man, of the community, comes up so passionately for “his” street children.
This was the first time that I saw a Zulu man do this work.
I was immediately listening with much interest and wanted to know more.

After we both talked about our missions, he invited me to come and have a look at the place where the boys live. He didn’t have to ask that twice.

At some 3 km from Crestholme where we live, the boys live in a large house next to the local school.
When I entered the house, I was surprised by the “order”: to have 23 street children in 1 house trained that the house must be kept neat and clean seems quite a task to me.

The house is old and could use a new coat of paint. Also the plaster work comes off the wall here and there, but the floor is clean and the house smells fresh.
The kitchen is old and worn out. The man told me that only 1 cooking element of the two cookers is working.
I immediately thought that I’ll have to provide for a cooker because it cannot be that they have only 1 element to cook on for 23 boys.

The house had further a big room with some 12 staple-beds put against each other, thus seeming like a two layer giant mattress.
The beds were neatly made and you could still smell the sleeping-odour but also here everything was clean.

There was another smaller room with a double bed, in which they sometimes sleep with 4.
The bathroom was a “no go”, but still I walked in. Apparently the decency was nevertheless present because there was a boy cleaning the bathroom with haste; they had not foreseen this unexpected visit.

A last door was opened and we walked into a fitness room with all old, cast off fitness apparatus.
“When the boys come off the street, I forbid them to further use drugs and then they get stressed”, the man told me. “Here they can get rid of their stress; they go in for sports and loose their stress.”
That was certainly good thinking of the man.

After the visit to the house, he wanted to show me his workshop.
Workshop? I was curious.
We went back in the car and drove some 2 km back to a place where wrecks of cars stood.
Here the man thought the boys to repair cars.
Marvellous ! From the scrap lying there, they made new cars.
I was enormously impressed.

This man deserves to get support. At that moment I didn’t know yet how but I felt very strongly that we would work together in the future.

…. To be continued …

Gunter

A moment of peace

Time goes by and does not stand still. That’s what is being said so often. But what is time? Also a question that is frequently been asked.

Strange though … time is the axe in most people’s life and nobody really understands what it is.
The whole organised world is based on time.
1 second, 60 seconds 1 minute, 60 minutes 1 hour, 12 hours half a day, 24 hours and the clock went round …
And meanwhile 15 seconds are gone while writing this text.

Take time for yourself, another thing that is often said … but? What is time? And than, even take some time for yourself?
Come home in time, something fathers often say …but? What is time? And what is “in time”?
It is time to leave, something that is said daily … but? What is time? And what is time to?

I read hundreds of pages on the theory of time, but not a single expert could satisfy me.
Time is universal … time is a term … time is invented … time does not exist … name it.

Whether you want it or not, your are taken up in the “time”.
And that is exactly what is so beautiful … you are taken up …

Whether it is time of life or the universe … you are taken up. Taken up in the things you observe, experience, feel and do in life.
We are growing wiser every day, there is more input, whether you like it or not, you can not stop it.

To live here in a country that is rich on input is a gift that I would like to give to everyone.
From inhuman, degrading to deepest love, from one sentiment to the other, that’s really what this country can offer.
From absolute incomprehensibility to acceptance of the course of things is a difficult matter to many people.

Almost 3 years in South-Africa feels like it is barely a year but I got 10 years older (wiser).
Even in understanding the western world, strange as this may sound as I lived there for 37 years.
On distance things become more clearly, while near, you sit in the middle of it. The combination of both is a good balance.

But sometimes that balance is difficult to find.

How can you find a balance between a family without food and a restaurant where the refuse-bin contains surpluses of food?
How can you find a balance between a child that just broke his leg but for whom the ambulance cannot come because of too busy while for a man who simply stumbles, fire-brigade, police and ambulance appear in no time.

And then I only mention two simple things, if you can rightly call these simple.

The most difficult is to find the right balance in helping.

I ask myself daily:
“Do I give food? Do I give money? Or none of both?”

And often I come to the conclusion that I have to choose the last option.
The mission I live for sits so deep and also works from the deepest inner,
helping is not to give a piece of bread
helping is not to give a glass of water
helping is not to give money
helping is not to go to the beach for a while with “the poor little children”
helping is not to go to the cinema for one night.

It hurts me so much to see how people, with all the best intentions, help people in an obstinate way.
I often see people help others from a wrong perspective. It sounds hard to say but it’s better to say “no” if you’re not completely sure.

A no is clear and a yes creates expectations that can often not be fulfilled.
It is better to say no and come up with a solution afterwards to surprise them than to say yes and not keep the promise.

I do not pretend that I know everything, not at all, but I do like to express the things that I experience.

It is and will remain difficult. The longer I live here, the more I realize that it goes wrong on various levels.
And then the word “wrong” may even be misused for, who am I to say that something is wrong.

My son often says: “Just be yourself and enjoy life” and that comes out of a boy who has already seen quite a lot.
I often think about this and though it is difficult to accept things, I sometimes think:
“Would it not be wonderful if I knew less, were a bit more naïve. It might make it all a bit simpler.”
But then of course comes the question: “Would it indeed be easier… ? and then it starts again (hahaha).

I notice that I am not writing this posting in clear language, but don’t be worried. I am still here, I only write too little.
There is so much I want to tell, so much that should be told, but there are so many things happening and to be done.
To be active for and with the people and to sit behind a computer do not match, and in between you still need to find some time for yourself.

And to be honest, I did not find that yet, I don’t have a clue what time is…

Big kiss

I miss you

Gunter

PS: Do not forget to visit www.khulanisimunye.org.