South Africa

"Ninety percent of white South Africans have never set foot inside a township." our 'driver' says heavily as we sit at the restaurant - all 3 of us making an effort to let the day sink in. To understand it.

His name is Julian. He is of German and Polish descent, third generation South African. A tall, powerful, blonde man around 40 with big, sincere blue eyes and a boyish smile. But he is not smiling now. He looks into my shell shocked face and shakes his own. Then into Stuart's sharper gaze. There is a moment of silence before the conversation can resume. All 3 of us are somewhere else.

I stare into the middle distance of the cozy restaurant, unable to see anything around me. I am still at the orphanage. I can not take my mind away so quickly from the children in that sandy, dirty yard - or from "Momma Amelia". Her voice, her face, the folds of her body like big rolls of soft, melting dough cascading down to her swollen feet and ankles - her raspy,contagious laugh (mouth thrown open in a wide smile, unselfconscious of missing teeth) - all of her beautiful energy still had me in her spell. Unable to be present in a world only 30 miles away, but a dimension different.

Stuart, Julian and I have spent the day at an orphanage in a township outside of Cape town, South Africa. I've been to an orphanage in Romania many years ago and thought I knew a bit what we were in for. I was wrong.

Stuart is my oldest friend. We've been thick as thieves since we were 14 at boarding school together. He has dreamed up an arranged this visit. He found Julian and Momma Amelia (an angel on earth) and I am just tagging along. I think the idea was for Julian to just drop us off and pick us up later, but he got sucked into Momma Amelia's magic and stayed. Julian drives and cares for HUGE celebrities. His interest in this place could be invaluable.

The thing is - that I really had no idea what a "township" was before today. It sounds so much more civilized and decent than it actually is. Turns out, a "township" in South Africa is a MASSIVE section (miles and MILES ) of shacks piled up on one another without proper plumbing or electricity - often without any sort of roads. People living crammed together in old shipping containers. Cooking outside in old oil drums. Barbed wire and trash and building debris everywhere. No trees. Nothing green. A giant gypsy encampment without any of the charm. It's what I imagine the world would look like shortly after a nuclear war.

And in the middle of this God - awful shit hole, Momma Amelia has created a haven. It's not much by our standards. In fact, I was shocked to see how small and dingy it was - all the while Stuart was saying "Wow! It's so big! I had no idea it would be so big!"
I smiled and nodded thinking, "I can't believe ALL these kids are crammed into such a small, stuffy, dirty space!"
But it's all relative. That was the 'house' the orphans, Momma Amelia and a couple of teenaged caretakers live in. And where the very little ones spend their day. Inside. No yard.

All of the cherubic babies wanted to hold our hands and hug us. They were so pretty and sweet and full of smiles. I wanted to cuddle and spoil every one of them! None of the children speak English. Not even 'hello'. But smiles, warm squeezes of a hand, music - these things cross all language barriers.

After the original orphanage, we were taken to Momma Amelia's second installment. A playground of sorts that she has wrangled from the township. Meaning they gave her a small piece of land where everyone had been dumping their garbage. Through hard work and donations (from people like you and I, gentle readers), she cleaned up the space "bit by bit", Momma explains to us. "We pick up the broken glass and rubbish - bit by bit. They move the sand with a bulldoze..."
"Oh, a bulldozer." Stuart chimes in, nodding. He is capturing her words on his i-phone in the hopes that we can raise some money for her when we get back home. "That must have been expensive" he says.
"200 Rand per hour.." Momma explains, "very expensive!"

I watch the children intently as we listen to her story and her dreams for this place. She is old and not very well. She has devoted her life to this place for over 40 years. the children are beautiful, happy, and well behaved. They appear to feel safe here - which is more than I can say for myself.

By the end of the day, 2 things seem clear to me.
1 : Momma Amelia is an angel on earth and is CLEARLY doing something of GREAT value here. And,
2 : Theses beautiful children NEED to learn to speak English if they are ever to have a chance of getting out of this 'Mad Max' like world and into one with solid luxuries like indoor plumbing.

I am curious to see what tomorrow will be like in the township. And, princess that I am, am already scheming about how to get through the whole day without peeing.