Have you ever heard a joke so many times that it stops being funny?
That’s how I feel about South Africa, I’m afraid to talk about it now,
What can I say that hasn’t been said already?
I don’t mean South Africa is a joke that I’ve heard so much, but it’s strange to be in a situation where you are basically repeating yourself regarding the same basic issues: poverty, disease, death and most importantly, justice. That’s what it comes down to in my meagre opinion, Justice, who’s fault is it that it’s them, and not me, or you?
I can’t point any specific fingers anymore, the government? Yeah, of course, but it’s not today’s government, this is inherent of decades of a form of social brainwashing, and I’m not sure if it’s forced anymore, it does seem to be slightly inherited.
A sort of ‘I am therefore I, well, I’m in this situation and that’s it’
Very hard to describe, I’m poor therefore I’m poor, is that good enough? No obviously it isn’t, yet is there a point me writing every single blog about the hardship I see? Probably not. Yet here we are, Why?
It’s strange, but when you hear a joke enough times it stops being funny, My Dad is a fantastic storyteller, never tell him I said this, he’s allergic to technology so he will most likely never read this, but he is, he can tell a great story, stories about his friends, who are mostly mad so it does aid the story telling ability when the characters are, well lets just say, interesting. But Dad can tell a story I’ve heard a dozen times before and I’ll still laugh, so no, sometimes the punch line can revert to humour, in the same way that sadness and the need to highlight this lack of justice can be reawakened.
I have a Godson, Dylan, he’s damn class, Ok, I realise that I’m biased, but in fairness he is, he’s a little dude and I am crazy about him, very smart child with bright eyes and a lovely smile, just a joy, except that he’s got more energy then a Duracell factory in a lightening field. But I think he is the business, the bee knee’s, the cats pyjamas and the dogs, eh, curtains.
He’s just 10 months now and his room over Christmas reminded me very much of the late late toy show (With Gay obviously) now I won’t say I didn’t donate to that situation myself but what can you do, if you can’t spoil your Godson then something something.
10 months of age, with two parents who love him, grandparents (He’s the first on both sides so he’s spoilt atm) His Aunties and Godparents adore him, he’s a pretty happy kid, and you know, he’s a pretty lucky kid, or is it that all the kids in South Africa living in rags, in small smelly dank cells are unlucky?
Is it lucky to have parents alive and healthy, qualified in their professions, with a comfortable 2 or 3 bedroom house, grandparents and aunts and uncles all about him, tv’s and books and bedclothes and bath stuff and all that other crazy stuff that he loves, and the forward planning, good schools and good advice from parents and others who have been, external tutoring and grinds, giving him idols to aim for, showing him the world that is so very accessible to him, where he can be happy, hopefully, do well in school , get onto college and do what he wants, get involved in sports, maybe Karate like myself and his Dad, or Public speaking like his Mum and, (Cough, me) or a very average soccer player like his Godfather then move onto to qualifying and getting a lowish level position in his profession where over time he’ll do well and grow, meet someone if he hasn’t already and settle with them.
That’s what we’re used to with children, we take it as the norm that the parents, the extended family, the friends and all other stakeholders will do their utmost to encourage the child to get on to it’s very best in this life. It’s part of our psyche to want the best for any children that we are in someway related to, to be honest I think any children we come into contact with, we want the best for, why wouldn’t we?
But what if we didn’t have that choice? In South Africa for millions of families, wanting their kids to get a decent education and get a qualified job is the same as Dylans parents deciding that they want him to become the next King of Wales, really not going to happen, and that’s what these people carry around with them every day of their lives. It’s like you’ve heard of the ‘American dream’ where any American has the potential to “Be all that you can be”, They should coin the phrase ‘South African nightmare’, cos that’s it, even Mandela was given a hand up as a young boy to a level of education and status in society, but normally that is not the case, somewhere in Kokstad there is a little boy born on the same day as Dylan who, if he’s lucky is still alive and doesn’t have HIV or TB, that’s if he’s lucky, but obviously it’s all relative and he’s not, not at all.
Have you ever heard a joke so much that it stops being funny?
I don’t care,
The kids that will never read this because the internet will never be something they could even imagine, Dylan will, but I suppose that answers my issue for me. It’s not their fault, it’s not Dylans fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not your fault, Yet I do believe that someone has to take some responsibility for something,
What Respond!/Sivile! do in South Africa with TLC and Yondlabantu is very important, if you can give time, money, clothes or anything else please do.
Kevin.Conway@Respond.ie
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Size does matter!
John Hannigan is a nice guy, he’s also my line managers line manager, so basically I’m going to say that, but he is really a decent guy, Is that enough can I stop now? Anyhoo, John has one very interesting trait, He thinks that any place in South Africa, is exactly two hours away from anywhere else in South Africa.
Honestly, Durban to Kokstad is two hours as far as he believes, Kokstad to Johannesburg also two hours and so on, which leaves me to believe one of two things:
A: John has a mastery of time and space, and he can bend the fabric of space and time (Yes I swapped them) to ensure that he is always two hours away from any destination that he chooses to travel to, this is an obviously subtle rouse to ensure people don’t get suspicious to his manipulation of the fabric of life,
or B: His grasp of the geography of South Africa isn’t fully up to scratch.
Either way it brings up a very interesting aspect of life in South Africa, mainly, IT’S HUGE
Honestly, it’s massive,
It’s times like this that words aren’t really enough, it’s very difficult to describe the feeling of driving through this environment and knowing that you ain’t in Kansas anymore, although if we replace Kansas with Clonmel it may be more apt.
I once complained that I had to drive to Durban airport and back, which between the jigs and the reels (might have been quicker if I hadn’t danced so much) took me seven hours, which is a work day roughly, I mentioned this to a South African who laughed quite heartily in my face, explaining that it is nothing for a South African to drive for fifteen hours on one journey.
From a size perspective, South Africa is 17 and a third times the size of Ireland, and I’d roughly estimate that has about 12 times the population maybe more. Of course that all brings it’s own problems. If theres no work in Kokstad and there is plenty in Cape Town, then what are you gonna do?, you obviously will go to Cape Town, but how do you travel the 1,513km to get there? Fly? Probably not an option considering costs, you could try and drive there, but as is testament to the Joe Bloggs South African’s mechanical skills more cars and jeeps are passed on the side of the road then you’d see in your average demolition derby (You have a demolition derby?, Nice), the way a lot of the local people operate with the vehicles is, drive them till they won’t drive anymore, then get them back working and drive them till they won’t drive anymore then (See step one), this is a pretty arduous way to go 1,500 odd km, but whats the alternative option?.
Thumbing, yes, thumbing is an option, but that’s one of the key reasons why HIV/AIDs has spread so relentlessly, people, especially truck and long distance drivers travelling the length of South Africa and to a certain extent Africa in general, stopping off, acquiring HIV through a number of ways and carrying on, decades ago rodents were to blame for this, but this time with this virus, it seems we sowed our own seeds of destruction.
So you get to your destination eventually and you start work, your not coming home every weekend, I would doubt that people even travel home on a monthly basis, its just too big and too awkward to get anywhere, If I have a job interview in Cork, I can get a bus or a train, mainly because Ireland is comparatively small and I can afford it, but if Cork was a three day drive away and I had no money, it’s just another major obstacle for anyone who is trying to get out of their state of poverty, if the work isn’t local, which it generally isn’t, you have to travel huge distances, if you can get to your destination then your stuck there more then likely, which means even if you do get a foot on the ladder it is to the detriment to seeing your family and friends, and this applies to tens of millions of people who just want to work, but the job may as well be in Birr for the amount of effort and will power it is to get to it. Of course there are buses but the cost of utilising them and the frequency of them makes them generally a non option considering the majority of people who find themselves in this predicament.
After rereading I realise that once again I am meandering quite a bit but the point I’m trying to make goes back to people saying things to me about, “If they wanted to get out, they’d get out of their situation”, it’s just not that simple, even if you have the drive and will to see beyond the sprawling poverty that surrounds you completely and has done so since birth, if you can go and somehow using the limited services, find a job somewhere, you still have to get there and that isn’t just your normal Irish, pain in the backside, butterflies in the stomach first night moving into college digs or house, it’s a destination that’s a three hour plane journey, but you can’t afford the fee, you may be lucky enough to own a car and if so your in the 10% that do, and even if you do, the chances are it won’t get you there, or you could of course put your life in your hands and thumb the 1,500 kms, now considering in Ireland how frowned upon thumbing is due to the dangers, I can only surmise that it’s slightly more dangerous to do so in South Africa, often referred to as the most dangerous country in the world that isn’t at war. If this all somehow works out and you manage to complete your journey without being beaten or raped or abused in some way, your now basically abroad for all the time you see your family.
It’s crazy that even the size of this country has such a profound effect on it’s inhabitants and deals another hammer blow to keep them in their slums and deprives them of opportunities that we take for granted with a smaller country and a much better public transport system, I also find it quite amusing that I had to travel to the other side of the world to finally appreciate the 46A.
Honestly, Durban to Kokstad is two hours as far as he believes, Kokstad to Johannesburg also two hours and so on, which leaves me to believe one of two things:
A: John has a mastery of time and space, and he can bend the fabric of space and time (Yes I swapped them) to ensure that he is always two hours away from any destination that he chooses to travel to, this is an obviously subtle rouse to ensure people don’t get suspicious to his manipulation of the fabric of life,
or B: His grasp of the geography of South Africa isn’t fully up to scratch.
Either way it brings up a very interesting aspect of life in South Africa, mainly, IT’S HUGE
Honestly, it’s massive,
It’s times like this that words aren’t really enough, it’s very difficult to describe the feeling of driving through this environment and knowing that you ain’t in Kansas anymore, although if we replace Kansas with Clonmel it may be more apt.
I once complained that I had to drive to Durban airport and back, which between the jigs and the reels (might have been quicker if I hadn’t danced so much) took me seven hours, which is a work day roughly, I mentioned this to a South African who laughed quite heartily in my face, explaining that it is nothing for a South African to drive for fifteen hours on one journey.
From a size perspective, South Africa is 17 and a third times the size of Ireland, and I’d roughly estimate that has about 12 times the population maybe more. Of course that all brings it’s own problems. If theres no work in Kokstad and there is plenty in Cape Town, then what are you gonna do?, you obviously will go to Cape Town, but how do you travel the 1,513km to get there? Fly? Probably not an option considering costs, you could try and drive there, but as is testament to the Joe Bloggs South African’s mechanical skills more cars and jeeps are passed on the side of the road then you’d see in your average demolition derby (You have a demolition derby?, Nice), the way a lot of the local people operate with the vehicles is, drive them till they won’t drive anymore, then get them back working and drive them till they won’t drive anymore then (See step one), this is a pretty arduous way to go 1,500 odd km, but whats the alternative option?.
Thumbing, yes, thumbing is an option, but that’s one of the key reasons why HIV/AIDs has spread so relentlessly, people, especially truck and long distance drivers travelling the length of South Africa and to a certain extent Africa in general, stopping off, acquiring HIV through a number of ways and carrying on, decades ago rodents were to blame for this, but this time with this virus, it seems we sowed our own seeds of destruction.
So you get to your destination eventually and you start work, your not coming home every weekend, I would doubt that people even travel home on a monthly basis, its just too big and too awkward to get anywhere, If I have a job interview in Cork, I can get a bus or a train, mainly because Ireland is comparatively small and I can afford it, but if Cork was a three day drive away and I had no money, it’s just another major obstacle for anyone who is trying to get out of their state of poverty, if the work isn’t local, which it generally isn’t, you have to travel huge distances, if you can get to your destination then your stuck there more then likely, which means even if you do get a foot on the ladder it is to the detriment to seeing your family and friends, and this applies to tens of millions of people who just want to work, but the job may as well be in Birr for the amount of effort and will power it is to get to it. Of course there are buses but the cost of utilising them and the frequency of them makes them generally a non option considering the majority of people who find themselves in this predicament.
After rereading I realise that once again I am meandering quite a bit but the point I’m trying to make goes back to people saying things to me about, “If they wanted to get out, they’d get out of their situation”, it’s just not that simple, even if you have the drive and will to see beyond the sprawling poverty that surrounds you completely and has done so since birth, if you can go and somehow using the limited services, find a job somewhere, you still have to get there and that isn’t just your normal Irish, pain in the backside, butterflies in the stomach first night moving into college digs or house, it’s a destination that’s a three hour plane journey, but you can’t afford the fee, you may be lucky enough to own a car and if so your in the 10% that do, and even if you do, the chances are it won’t get you there, or you could of course put your life in your hands and thumb the 1,500 kms, now considering in Ireland how frowned upon thumbing is due to the dangers, I can only surmise that it’s slightly more dangerous to do so in South Africa, often referred to as the most dangerous country in the world that isn’t at war. If this all somehow works out and you manage to complete your journey without being beaten or raped or abused in some way, your now basically abroad for all the time you see your family.
It’s crazy that even the size of this country has such a profound effect on it’s inhabitants and deals another hammer blow to keep them in their slums and deprives them of opportunities that we take for granted with a smaller country and a much better public transport system, I also find it quite amusing that I had to travel to the other side of the world to finally appreciate the 46A.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Modern day living
I'd don't normally follow the trend of forwarding or posting stuff, but this makes a lot of sense.
Food for thought in a starving world.
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings butshorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more,but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses andsmaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degreesbut less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet moreproblems, more medicine, but less wellness.We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little,drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read toolittle, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied ourpossessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, andhate too often.We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years tolife not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, buthave trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. We conquered outerspace but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom,but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, butaccomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build morecomputers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but wecommunicate less and less.These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and smallcharacter, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days oftwo incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These aredays of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one nightstands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, toquiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window andnothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter toyou, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to justhit delete.Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not goingto be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up toyou in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave yourside. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that isthe only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Food for thought in a starving world.
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings butshorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more,but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses andsmaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degreesbut less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet moreproblems, more medicine, but less wellness.We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little,drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read toolittle, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied ourpossessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, andhate too often.We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years tolife not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, buthave trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. We conquered outerspace but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom,but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, butaccomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build morecomputers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but wecommunicate less and less.These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and smallcharacter, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days oftwo incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These aredays of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one nightstands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, toquiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window andnothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter toyou, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to justhit delete.Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not goingto be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up toyou in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave yourside. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that isthe only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Passing
That lady passed away a few days ago, I hope she at last has the peace and serenity that she deserves.
Monday, November 23, 2009
A taste of unreality
I have been working on the blog I originally was going to post next for the last few days, but that’s gone out the window for the moment now, I have spent the last three hours writing my experiences from today which I feel that I must post, and as I went to publish it, I did a select all to spell check and what happens?, it deletes itself, isn’t that fun, hours and hours of work, down the drain, I love computers.
I am writing this again mainly because I must
Today was the most difficult day that I’ve experienced since I got here, not difficult in the homesickness, or illness or tiredness, but in the physical experiencing of something that feels like you’ve taken a sledgehammer to your brain and your reeling.
Today we went to Shayamoya with Michelle from TLC, we first went to visit a guy who’s 19 and is in the equivalent of fourth class in primary school, he is the head of his household of four other siblings who he has to look after, he has a deformed left hand which he hides and is very obviously embarrassed about, he is polite and respectful, by his house he is dutiful, they have no income to speak of so TLC provide them with care packages, when they run out they notify TLC who call to the school and drive him home, they then drop off the care package and drop him back to school, to be 19, the head of your household, to be behind in your studies and carry a deformity, yet to persevere is just so impressive, to persevere with such dignity is beyond impressive, when we got to his house I noticed that his shoes weren’t really shoes anymore, just pieces of leather that sat on top of his feet, there was no soles, they were just there to give the illusion of shoes, he wore them every day to get to school, the pain that it must be on bad cold days, with rocks and glass, metal and what not, yet he still has a smile on his face, it was impressive that Michelle also noticed and in a matter of minutes had organised that a pair of shoes would be delivered to the guy and also a pair for his younger brother. After dropping the package we dropped him back to school, and he went back to his life.
We then went to deliver a care package to a man with advanced HIV, he was so very welcoming as he sat out in the sun with his friend, he was in a lot of pain with his feet due to the HIV medication, yet as always he was so friendly to these two strangers who intruded his house as he suffered and tried to enjoy the sun, he welcomed us with a warm smile and a handshake as did his friend, as the time passed it became obvious that his friend had something more then a bad cough, immediately the care workers were asking him questions and came to the conclusion that he needed further examinations so as they do, they organised to check him the next day, again as it always seems to be the way he bade us good day with a smile and friendliness of someone that is an old friend in the peak of their health, and yet reality is the opposite.
We then called to another man with very advanced HIV, again he was so nice, so happy to greet us to his very modest home, and although he was uncomfortable with the state of his place, as a sick man living in such a situation it can’t be easy to keep any place clean, his medication was the only thing that could be seen in his tiny house, what we would consider a shed, there was no food so TLC gave him food and medicine, it’s tough to describe these things without being all clichéd and pointless, but I will try, the food and the medicine are the obvious provisions of sustenance from TLC, but it’s the care on a personal level, from people who really care about those they are working with, it’s the conversations, the way they talk to each other, that it’s not a patient relationship, it’s a caring relationship.
We then went to visit a woman who is terminally ill with cancer, initially we went to just drop off nappies, as she is unable to move from the bed she needs to wear adult nappies and they had run out, it transpired that when we got there we could go into see the lady.
The lady was in one of four rooms, the back room, a small dark, dank room, the smell was musty, the lady, weighs more or less 5 stone, lying on a bed in pure, and I do not use the word “pure” lightly, agony, her eyes screaming the pain that is in every fibre of her being, this woman, who is so ravaged by cancer that she could have been 30 or 60 it’s so difficult to tell, and yet, in this hellish surroundings (In my opinion), lying in a dark room, in a nappy, in mortal pain, staring death straight in the face without any medical personnel bar the visits from Michelle, this woman looks at us, smiles and shakes our hands, even when she can barely move due to the constant pain, she smiles, her eyes are screaming, and she smiles, she shakes both our hands, and it’s near total pain to do so, she cannot speak, but as Michelle explains to her that we’re her Friends from Ireland, and explains to us that she can only whisper, she looks at us and whispers the word “pain”, Now please don’t think for one moment that I am in any way insinuating that cancer and pain and death do not exist anywhere else, I buried my Mum when I was 18 from cancer, she was in pain for the week before she passed, yet she was in the care of a fantastic medical team, with the best of medical equipment and surrounded by all of her loved ones, she didn’t die in a small dark room, with little to none medical care, no counselling, just the room, the dark and the end. The fact that she has such dignity to greet us, to smile to shake our hand even at the last hour has affected me profoundly. I notice I am changing how I refer to her from past to present, that is simply because as I type this I cannot be sure that she is still alive, a woman that I met a matter of hours ago may now be dead, such is life you might say, millions of people die, everyone dies eventually, that’s fair enough, yet if she was in the best of health I would have left the house heart broken, to see a woman that weighed so very little, that was in constant agony, that was lying in such total pain that you could see she was waiting for the end, yet to smile, yet to shake hand, yet to greet us as friends I cannot fathom the depth of strength and dignity, maybe I’m a pussy, but if I was lying in a small dark room looking at the end of my mortality and I had one hundredth of the dignity of this lady, I would die proud, I will never forget that moment, I will never be eloquent enough to really describe what happened properly, but maybe if I can just even pass on that something did happen, that may be enough. I wish her all that can be granted and hope that if she does pass it will be quick and painless, I haven’t mentioned her name, not because I don’t know it, but because I don’t think knowing her name will change anything and maybe it might belittle this experience. If I’m honest, I consider myself a decent writer, not Roald Dahl decent, but that I can convey information decently, I am not doing what happened justice, I’m not sure I will ever be able to properly move my memories of this day from my brain to a written media, this happens all over the world, but it doesn’t happen to me. It is nice that a woman you meet once and don’t really talk to can have a profound effect on you then maybe there is some hope, thing is, I don’t know what, All I can do is try and explain whats going on over here and why it’s important. I hope my next blog is more light hearted, one thing I have realised is that every piece doesn’t have to end with a meaningful line, and yes, I am aware of the irony of that.
I am writing this again mainly because I must
Today was the most difficult day that I’ve experienced since I got here, not difficult in the homesickness, or illness or tiredness, but in the physical experiencing of something that feels like you’ve taken a sledgehammer to your brain and your reeling.
Today we went to Shayamoya with Michelle from TLC, we first went to visit a guy who’s 19 and is in the equivalent of fourth class in primary school, he is the head of his household of four other siblings who he has to look after, he has a deformed left hand which he hides and is very obviously embarrassed about, he is polite and respectful, by his house he is dutiful, they have no income to speak of so TLC provide them with care packages, when they run out they notify TLC who call to the school and drive him home, they then drop off the care package and drop him back to school, to be 19, the head of your household, to be behind in your studies and carry a deformity, yet to persevere is just so impressive, to persevere with such dignity is beyond impressive, when we got to his house I noticed that his shoes weren’t really shoes anymore, just pieces of leather that sat on top of his feet, there was no soles, they were just there to give the illusion of shoes, he wore them every day to get to school, the pain that it must be on bad cold days, with rocks and glass, metal and what not, yet he still has a smile on his face, it was impressive that Michelle also noticed and in a matter of minutes had organised that a pair of shoes would be delivered to the guy and also a pair for his younger brother. After dropping the package we dropped him back to school, and he went back to his life.
We then went to deliver a care package to a man with advanced HIV, he was so very welcoming as he sat out in the sun with his friend, he was in a lot of pain with his feet due to the HIV medication, yet as always he was so friendly to these two strangers who intruded his house as he suffered and tried to enjoy the sun, he welcomed us with a warm smile and a handshake as did his friend, as the time passed it became obvious that his friend had something more then a bad cough, immediately the care workers were asking him questions and came to the conclusion that he needed further examinations so as they do, they organised to check him the next day, again as it always seems to be the way he bade us good day with a smile and friendliness of someone that is an old friend in the peak of their health, and yet reality is the opposite.
We then called to another man with very advanced HIV, again he was so nice, so happy to greet us to his very modest home, and although he was uncomfortable with the state of his place, as a sick man living in such a situation it can’t be easy to keep any place clean, his medication was the only thing that could be seen in his tiny house, what we would consider a shed, there was no food so TLC gave him food and medicine, it’s tough to describe these things without being all clichéd and pointless, but I will try, the food and the medicine are the obvious provisions of sustenance from TLC, but it’s the care on a personal level, from people who really care about those they are working with, it’s the conversations, the way they talk to each other, that it’s not a patient relationship, it’s a caring relationship.
We then went to visit a woman who is terminally ill with cancer, initially we went to just drop off nappies, as she is unable to move from the bed she needs to wear adult nappies and they had run out, it transpired that when we got there we could go into see the lady.
The lady was in one of four rooms, the back room, a small dark, dank room, the smell was musty, the lady, weighs more or less 5 stone, lying on a bed in pure, and I do not use the word “pure” lightly, agony, her eyes screaming the pain that is in every fibre of her being, this woman, who is so ravaged by cancer that she could have been 30 or 60 it’s so difficult to tell, and yet, in this hellish surroundings (In my opinion), lying in a dark room, in a nappy, in mortal pain, staring death straight in the face without any medical personnel bar the visits from Michelle, this woman looks at us, smiles and shakes our hands, even when she can barely move due to the constant pain, she smiles, her eyes are screaming, and she smiles, she shakes both our hands, and it’s near total pain to do so, she cannot speak, but as Michelle explains to her that we’re her Friends from Ireland, and explains to us that she can only whisper, she looks at us and whispers the word “pain”, Now please don’t think for one moment that I am in any way insinuating that cancer and pain and death do not exist anywhere else, I buried my Mum when I was 18 from cancer, she was in pain for the week before she passed, yet she was in the care of a fantastic medical team, with the best of medical equipment and surrounded by all of her loved ones, she didn’t die in a small dark room, with little to none medical care, no counselling, just the room, the dark and the end. The fact that she has such dignity to greet us, to smile to shake our hand even at the last hour has affected me profoundly. I notice I am changing how I refer to her from past to present, that is simply because as I type this I cannot be sure that she is still alive, a woman that I met a matter of hours ago may now be dead, such is life you might say, millions of people die, everyone dies eventually, that’s fair enough, yet if she was in the best of health I would have left the house heart broken, to see a woman that weighed so very little, that was in constant agony, that was lying in such total pain that you could see she was waiting for the end, yet to smile, yet to shake hand, yet to greet us as friends I cannot fathom the depth of strength and dignity, maybe I’m a pussy, but if I was lying in a small dark room looking at the end of my mortality and I had one hundredth of the dignity of this lady, I would die proud, I will never forget that moment, I will never be eloquent enough to really describe what happened properly, but maybe if I can just even pass on that something did happen, that may be enough. I wish her all that can be granted and hope that if she does pass it will be quick and painless, I haven’t mentioned her name, not because I don’t know it, but because I don’t think knowing her name will change anything and maybe it might belittle this experience. If I’m honest, I consider myself a decent writer, not Roald Dahl decent, but that I can convey information decently, I am not doing what happened justice, I’m not sure I will ever be able to properly move my memories of this day from my brain to a written media, this happens all over the world, but it doesn’t happen to me. It is nice that a woman you meet once and don’t really talk to can have a profound effect on you then maybe there is some hope, thing is, I don’t know what, All I can do is try and explain whats going on over here and why it’s important. I hope my next blog is more light hearted, one thing I have realised is that every piece doesn’t have to end with a meaningful line, and yes, I am aware of the irony of that.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
We're here, and we're, well we're here
In his stand up routine, Bill Bailey does a piece on “What’s Britian like?” his answer is “It’s alright, we’ve got nectar points, their quite handy, We’ve got understatement, We’re tough on slogans, tough on the cause of slogans, We have strong prevailing westerly winds, 52% of our days are overcast so as a nation we’re enthused with a wistful melancholy, but we remain a relentlessly chipper population, prone to mild eccentricity, binge drinking and casual violence, breakfast is served 7 till 9, not a minute later, We have no natural predators although a badger will give you a nasty nip, or hedgehogs feeding on honey might fall on your eyes, a wasp might fly into your mouth on a summers afternoon sting your bottom lip and it swells right up like that and you phone the hospital and say awww yeee uyuu uuee eeeeuu, she thinks that you’re a pervert and you get arrested and sent to a secret mars penal colony, gain the support of the workers and throw off the shackles of oppression, and on the up side, we’ve got little chefs which were built many years ago on lay lines and then the roads just came in a connected them up, lots of positivity in the tea cakes and if it all goes horribly wrong we’ve always got Argos with the laminated book of dreams, to catch the tears of joy.
Ok, I love Bill Bailey, I did type that part out myself so at least I had to do some work too. Yet, it rings out in my head, people ask, “Whats South Africa like?”, and why wouldn’t they? It’s a great thing to ask, it shows people care, and I realise that this blog should not be about Bill Bailey and what not, but I am also aware that this is my blog, and without me being honest, I may as well just post the usual crap from some NGO and go about my day, (It’s night by the by!),
So WHAT IS SOUTH AFRICA LIKE?
I can’t say, it’s got strange weather and beautiful scenery, kids you fall in love with, people that are courteous and tough, there is a crazy difference from middle class down, yet, it’s part of life, there’s lots of jeeps, mostly white in colour, I assume to deflect the sun, theres crazy buses that carry about a 1,000,000 people, there are no real pubs and everyone goes to bed early and gets up earlier. What can I say?
I like this place, I’m pretty sure I’ll love this place, it breaks my heart seeing a kid in this immaculate uniform who’s English is fantastic, manners are exceptional yet s he walks away across a yard he’s in socks that are worn to nothing, just pieces of cloth wrapped around his feet, We did an after schools day, well Niamh did, I just went along, the kids were just lovely, we gave them a drink, a sandwich and a piece of fruit, so many kids hid their food to bring home, it’s such a different world, I’m not going into specifics yet, all I’ve learned is that I know nothing, I am no better then most of the people here, and in many ways I am worse off from a soul aspect.
I miss my home, my friends and my life, yet I do believe this is worth it all. I can’t say what South Africa is like, I can tell you what has happened day to day so far but I don’t think that’s the way this should work, I live in two worlds, I live in a bubble that is my house, and I live outside the bubble, until I am allowed to inhabit the bubble that exists everywhere outside my bubble then I cannot say what I feel, I feel too much, but I don’t want the Hollywood feeling that you often get being pushed out here, I’d prefer to wait,
What I will say is watch this space, there is something special happening here it’s felt by everyone and I think that we can really start something fantastic, so why not tune in to the best place in town to catch all the goss, here on Sindisa, they say if you find a job that you love, you’ll never have to work another day in your life, I actually see what they mean now,
Ok, I love Bill Bailey, I did type that part out myself so at least I had to do some work too. Yet, it rings out in my head, people ask, “Whats South Africa like?”, and why wouldn’t they? It’s a great thing to ask, it shows people care, and I realise that this blog should not be about Bill Bailey and what not, but I am also aware that this is my blog, and without me being honest, I may as well just post the usual crap from some NGO and go about my day, (It’s night by the by!),
So WHAT IS SOUTH AFRICA LIKE?
I can’t say, it’s got strange weather and beautiful scenery, kids you fall in love with, people that are courteous and tough, there is a crazy difference from middle class down, yet, it’s part of life, there’s lots of jeeps, mostly white in colour, I assume to deflect the sun, theres crazy buses that carry about a 1,000,000 people, there are no real pubs and everyone goes to bed early and gets up earlier. What can I say?
I like this place, I’m pretty sure I’ll love this place, it breaks my heart seeing a kid in this immaculate uniform who’s English is fantastic, manners are exceptional yet s he walks away across a yard he’s in socks that are worn to nothing, just pieces of cloth wrapped around his feet, We did an after schools day, well Niamh did, I just went along, the kids were just lovely, we gave them a drink, a sandwich and a piece of fruit, so many kids hid their food to bring home, it’s such a different world, I’m not going into specifics yet, all I’ve learned is that I know nothing, I am no better then most of the people here, and in many ways I am worse off from a soul aspect.
I miss my home, my friends and my life, yet I do believe this is worth it all. I can’t say what South Africa is like, I can tell you what has happened day to day so far but I don’t think that’s the way this should work, I live in two worlds, I live in a bubble that is my house, and I live outside the bubble, until I am allowed to inhabit the bubble that exists everywhere outside my bubble then I cannot say what I feel, I feel too much, but I don’t want the Hollywood feeling that you often get being pushed out here, I’d prefer to wait,
What I will say is watch this space, there is something special happening here it’s felt by everyone and I think that we can really start something fantastic, so why not tune in to the best place in town to catch all the goss, here on Sindisa, they say if you find a job that you love, you’ll never have to work another day in your life, I actually see what they mean now,
Friday, September 18, 2009
Moving Forward
We're certainly moving on with the project, last Sunday, myself, Pascal Halley, Richard Vaughan and Shane O'Sullivan from the design and maintenance department of Respond! Waterford ran a 10k run in aid of the Sindisa project, we did pretty good, Pascal arrived back first, with myself Shane and Richard tottering in after him. Then on Tue the 15th we had a table Quiz in Dublin which enjoyed some success and then on Thurs the 17th (Yesterday) we had a quiz in Waterford which was a resounding success so I'm happy with the way things are progressing, it's 30 days or so till I head off so it's becoming very real suddenly, too real some might say, though I don't know who they are, also on the South Africa side of things, Niamh Flavin a Childcare leader in Tramore is now going over as well, I know Niamh pretty well so it'll be great to have someone that I already know an she (seems) pretty easy going but time will tell. Monday coming we have a Quiz in Clonmel and on Wed we have one in Galway so I'll fill you in on how that all goes. Bye now.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Quote
"You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is the beginning of the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it." (Adrian Rogers, Australia, 1931)
Monday, August 17, 2009
Beginnings
Hi there,
My name is Kevin Conway, I'm thirty years of age and I work for Respond!, initially in the IT dept, and lately on our projects based in South Africa.
Hardenberg: We are developing a respite centre for orphans and vulnerable children who have lost a generation of parents to HIV/AIDS. Thousands of them as young as twelve are now the head of their household, often taking care of 5 or 6 siblings. The respite centre can cater for up to 50 children and also provide treatment for people with HIV/AIDS. Its first weekend attracted nearly 2,000 children; none were turned away, and for one weekend they were able to be children again.
Shoyamoya: This is a shanty town of 10,000 basic houses built from wood pallets and metal sheets. It is situated beside a dump where raw chemical, industrial, household and hospital waste is dumped. Yet thousands of households use the dump every day to find nourishment, where mouldy bread or curdled milk is a treat. We are building a drop in centre for the aged and a treatment centre for the thousands with HIV/AIDS and Tuberculosis. For those in mortal agony this alleviates the further misery of walking up to twenty miles to receive critical, life saving treatment.
Kokstad: We are building 750 units of homes, integrating lower and higher income households as well as providing all the necessary social services. Respond! through Sivile! is also providing training courses in building, carpentry, rudimentary plumbing as well as sending out Respond! staff from Ireland; Terry Keogh to provide training in Nutrition & Sustenance and Myself to provide training in IT.
So thats it, I'm pretty scared of whats going to happen, I have a pretty good life, but I'll regret it if I didn't do it.
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