The tragedy of it all...

Stellenbosch, South Africa

Today has been a great day of my life. I got up early feeling more rested than I have in a long time, and went for a run in front of a backdrop of vineyards and mountains. We are staying in Stellenbosch, which is University town known also for its vineyards. It's hard to not see the beauty of this place.
For the past four days our group has been working in a Township on the edge of town called Kayamandi, which translates from Xhosa to mean "sweet place". Again I must confess that I was nervous going into this township, I always am. Maybe that's my response to such adverse poverty. Our students were in groups and toured around with people who live there and were able to learn more about life there. They were also then able to come up with their own projects to help out in whatever way they could.
I helped out with one group that was replacing the roof on a widow's one-room shack. I have little, to no, experience with roofing, but we set out to accomplish the task. It's always a bit of a risk removing an entire roof exposing all of someone's possesions to the elements, but thankfully we had 8 hours of un-interrupted sunshine. After a few hours of hard work the roof was on, the floor was cleaned up and the woman was greatful for our help.
I must confess I couldn't help but thinking a lot as we worked. The home that she and her 3 teenaged sons lived in was twice the size of my closet at home, which I can't even get into anymore because of the boxes of things I have stored there. It was an intresting contrast to consider the amount of money we spent of tin, nails and beams to fix this roof cost less than the combined price I paid for my sunglasses and my running shoes... that makes me think.
One of our speakers this year challenged us not to feel pitty for those who live in poverty, but to accept their graciuosness towards our affluence. Wow. I think there's a great deal of truth in that, and it gives me humble hope for the future both in my own life and the lives of people who live in places like Kayamandi.
Today I went out for coffee with one of the young women I mentor and we had a great conversation. It was a moment that made me feel alive, and a realization that I love what I do for a "living" right now. I love the chance to have relationships with people who trust me enough that they are willing to let me say hard things, they are willing to grow with me, to ask big questions, and to ponder about why the world doesn't make sense some times.
I am sad that this week may be my last time in the townships for a while. Sure we drive by shacks on every major highway we are on, but we will not have any more chances to go and spend time with people who live there. I cannot make light of the poverty, and the struggle that is reality for so many, but at the same time I cannot help but find beauty in the vibrancy and colour of the homes, the sounds of music flooding into the streets - a different song from each shack. There is a sense of community evident there that we, in North America, has lost or failed to scratch the surface of. It's tragic actually.