Back from Guguletu

It’s difficult for me to put the past week into words in many ways. I was exposed to so many new realities that I could have never imagined as being true, it’s a bit overwhelming to just start writing about them. 

I’ve returned from Guguletu and am sitting at the dining room table of our rented home in Cape Town. It’s a bit surreal to be back here mostly because it’s difficult to imagine that a few kilometers away there is an entirely different world. During most of my stay in Guguletu, I felt as though I was in a different country with a completely different culture. Coming from the gated homes of Cape Town to the shanties of Guguletu was a bit startling. Earlier today, I spoke with Seiphemo, who works for InterStudy, the organization in which our program is through, about the differences between Guguletu and Cape Town. He explained about the struggles with balancing living in the glitz and glam of Cape Town, and the simple living in the townships. In a lot of ways, I can relate to “living the double life,” mostly because my life and culture in Minneapolis is drastically different than that in North Dakota. But, the differences I find in North Dakota and Minneapolis are separated by hundreds of miles of open road. Cape Town and Guguletu are situated side by side, the only division being highways, yet the differences between the two are black and white – literally and figuratively. 

Guguletu is a township of about 400,000 located near Cape Town International Airport. As far as I know, the population is entirely black, many of who are poor and have understood South Africa in two ways: apartheid and post-apartheid. To me, it’s interesting that in the original design of Apartheid, blacks were meant to live in “rural” areas, yet the Guguletu is anything but rural. The roads are paved, there are a fair amount of cars driving the streets, the main road of the township has been lined with trees in preparation for the 2010 World Cup, there are trailers or shipping containers (similar to a boxcar on a train) housing hair salons, restaurants, or implement shops. The homes are very close together, in fact many are connected, and the streets run very close to the homes. People walk the streets and sidewalks of Guguletu, children would wave at the vans that transported us around, and some would even run along beside the vans. 

As I observed the surroundings of the township, it was obvious that there are a great deal of children left unattended during the day. We would see children as young as two or three, roaming the streets during the day with no parent in sight. This could be either that the parents are away at work or are too sick to take care of their children. Like any poorer area in the US, drugs and alcohol are problem in the township. We were told of an emerging drug, known as “tik” that has recently become a problem. Kids will take the insides of light bulbs and ARVs (antiretrirol virus drugs – used for HIV/AIDS) and smoke the substance. ARVs are increasing becoming a black market item in the name of recreational drug use. I find this to be most disheartening because currently there are millions of people waiting to receive ARVs through a government sponsored program (usually people who qualify to be on ARVs wait 9 months to receive their medication) and people who are lucky enough to receive the drugs sell them to make money. 

At this point, I’m still processing the issues that surround HIV/AIDS. As I’ve found so far, there is a direct link between HIV/AIDS and poverty as an overwhelming majority of those infected are poor. My home stay mother Titi told about how some people purposely infect themselves with HIV just so they can receive ARVs and a grant from the government. When it comes to being impoverished and hungry, HIV is the lesser of two evils. Furthermore, it is not uncommon for children to head the household after their parents die from complications related to AIDS, forcing them to quit school and find any means to make money to support themselves and their younger siblings. Some turn to selling themselves, other purposely infect themselves with HIV or being pregnant to receive government aid – there are a million different compromising ways that people can make a living for themselves and their dependents. We had the opportunity to visit a 17-year-old girl who was taking care of her 9-year-old brother after her mother died. She had been taking care of him since she was 15 and lived in a two room shack less than 150 square feet. There was no shower or toilet in the shack. Poverty is so closely related to HIV, its difficult to know what the solution to the problem is. Should the government make sure that people are hungry and their basic needs are met or should they focus on sex education (which currently is not addressed in public schools) and distributing ARVs to those already infected?

All in all, the issue is much more complicated than people simply having reckless intercourse, in many cases it’s the desperation that surrounds the poverty that causes the spread of HIV. There are a lot of people in the Guguletu community that are trying to make a difference in lives of those affected by the disease and their stories are truly inspirational. One immediately comes to mind when I think of Pricilla. A woman of about 65 years old has four children (two of which still live with her) and has taken in 9 children who have lost their parents to HIV/AIDS. Pricilla lives in a two room home and houses 11 children (most under the age of 6) in order to keep them from living on their own.  Taking in 9 children (none of whom she knew previously) is a feat in itself, but furthermore, Pricilla lives in a state of poverty. In order to feed her children when they get home from school, she brings the young children (there are 4 of them all under the age of 4) around Guguletu with her and finds odd jobs to do (mostly cleaning or something similar) in order to make enough money to go to the grocery store and purchase food for her children. Literally everyday this woman does not know how she is going to be able to feed the orphans she has taken into her home. She receives no aid from the government. The support she gets is from the JL Zwane Community Center and from the work she does for others in the community. 

Pricilla’s home is in less than good shape. The walls that divide the rooms do not reach the roof. The only privacy in the home is the curtain that covers the doorway of the bedroom. The bathroom is small and does not have warm water for the children to bathe in. Perhaps the most disheartening part of the home was that there was no toilet paper for anyone to use, simply because Pricilla can’t afford it. They use old newspapers instead. Furthermore, the developing girls in the home do not have access to feminine products to use.

On the day we visited Pricilla’s home, we came with food to make a meal for Pricilla and her children, brooms to help clean the house and toys for her kids (they had none previously). To those who gave monetary donations to my medical and school supplies campaign, your money was used to purchase toys and food for Pricilla’s children. Edwin, a minister at JL Zwane who accompanied us on our trip mentioned how he had never seen that much happiness in a home after the children received a good meal and toys. By the end of our hour at her home, there were 30 kids in her house, all of who wondered over to get in on the excitement. It’s amazing how something as simple as bubbles can generate so much joy. 

Our group was obviously very moved the situation with Pricilla and have decided that we want help fund repairs on her home and help with feeding the children. Each person in our group of 17 has pledged to raise $1000 in order to help the family. If you are interested in donating money, please let me know. I can honestly say that any money donated with make an immense difference in these childrens’ lives simply because they are so grateful for anything they receive, no matter how small. 

We were exposed to many stories similar to Pricilla’s in that we have meant people who have overcome extraordinary challenges and have devoted their life to the improvement of their community. One of the first speakers we had was Nombeka Mpongo. On August 16, 1997, Nombeka was gang raped by 5 men walking home one evening in Guguletu and contracted HIV. At the time she had a 6-year-old son. As soon as she made her status known, she was fired from her job and turned away from many universities because she refused to register as a health risk. Her story was truly inspirational though because of her high spirit. She told of how many other people who contract HIV simply quit living, and she’s made a conscious decision to continue to truly live with her AIDS status. She has been living with AIDS for 11 years, which my Africa’s standards is remarkable. 

In addition to poverty, another huge problem that South Africa is facing in terms of HIV/AIDS is the healthcare crisis. Prior to coming to Cape Town, I attended a seminar at the U about AIDS as a global crisis. Sub-Saharan Africa comprises of about 14% of the world’s population and 25% of the worlds health-related problems. However, Sub-Saharan Africa has only about 3% of the world’s medical professionals. We spoke to Zethu Xapile who is the director of one of the health clinics in Guguletu. She told about how the clinic sees about 200 patients a day and employs one doctor, 3 medical practitioners and a staff of nurses. While the clinic serves people with any type of medical problem, it sees a large portion of its services going towards HIV/AIDS. The clinic can distribute ARVs to people who qualify. The ARVs come from a government-funded grant although the waiting list is about 3 months long and it takes an additional 6 months for the ARVs to get from the US to South Africa. 

The solution to the health crisis in Africa is complicated. A great deal of those problems could be solved by more funding to pay for more medications and competitive wages for quality health professionals. The clinic serving Guguletu currently runs on $100,000 a month, which to me doesn’t seem like much. As always in South Africa, there are undertones of apartheid installed in the system as well when considering the differences between public and private healthcare. As described by one student who visited the clinic, the place was a “zoo,” with multiple people being treated in a room and little to no organization to the clinic. In Africa, it is not customary to make appointments so many people will go to a clinic and wait for hours to be seen by a professional. We’ve been told that the heath situation in rural areas is even worse, with few resources and access to adequate medications and professionals. The healthcare crisis here is incredibly overwhelming and something that can make or break the current HIV crisis in South Africa.

Today, our last day in Guguletu, was truly a special one. We began the morning with a class discussion and then made our way to a school for black children who are physically handicapped. This is the only school in the Western Cape that caters to this population and houses students K – 12. I don’t know that I have ever laughed as much as I did in that three hours we spent at the school. When we first arrived, all of the children of the school (about 200 or so) greeted us in their commons. It was fun to watch how the children helped one another into the space. Children with trouble walking were helping push their friends who use wheelchairs. It was truly a group effort to get everyone in the room and seated. 

The high school choir sang several songs for us, which was great to listen to; their talent impressed me. Following that, all of us students divided into groups and tackled a different project in the school. Some weed whacked the playground (the playground’s grass hasn’t been cut in months and the students are expected to use their wheelchairs in order to play), other cleaned up the basketball courts, others worked with the speech teacher, some helped organize files for the counselor. I had the all-important job of helping the preschoolers paint. After they finished their masterpieces, we took them out into the freshly mowed playgroup to play. All of the students we worked with are in wheelchairs, which meant lifting them out of their chairs and into swings, onto slides and monkey bars. All of the children speak English, which is incredibly helpful. 

Along with playing with the preschoolers, a girl name Zimbini came to paint as well. She is a 13-year-old student at the school and incredibly nice. As most children in the townships, she had a fascination with my digital camera. Children in Africa love having their photo taken and looking at the picture in the window of my camera. I allowed her to take as many pictures and videos as she wanted for about 30 minutes or so. I think she took about 45 or so. By the end of the day, I almost wanted to give it to her. 

All in all, I haven’t yet touched on my experience in the home stay, which is a blog entry in itself. Despite the dysfunctions of the townships related to HIV/AIDS. There is a great deal of good in the townships as well. The warm spirit of its people and their willingness to help is truly remarkable. It’s difficult to believe that people who have come from such a hardship can maintain a positive attitude. Though by the world’s standards, many of the residents in Guguletu live in poverty, but they don’t show it. I’m beginning to believe more and more that poverty is a state of mind, not numbers on a paper. 

I’ll write more on my home stay experiences later. Tomorrow I’m off on a wine tour. Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful weekend!

*The first and last picture are from the school for children with disabilities. The middle pictures are the toys we donated to Pricilla's family*