Dec 18th _ “11 years later”

First day in Grade 7 I sat at a table with some friends who I met the previous year. Class was soon to begin when a kid walked into the room. Not knowing anyone, he sat at our table. Clutching his lunch kit closely and not moving an inch, I challenged the kid:

“Yo. What’s your name?”

“Keenan”, he replied.

“Your new eh. Where you’re from?”

“I just moved here… from South Africa”.

As the year would play out, Keenan and I became very good friends. Our families got to meet one another. He told me things were much different in South Africa. I told him I had only known of Africa and had no clue what a “South Africa” was. We looked out for each other, especially when it came to dealing with the rough environment of Camilla Public School. At the end of grade 7, Keenan had to move. I tried finding him via email, but couldn’t locate him. However, we did find each other on Facebook years ago, but we never spoke once.

Before leaving for South Africa, I announced on Facebook of the upcoming adventure. Keenan aptly responded sending his contact information. After getting settled, I phoned him up. At the time, he was on the road and said he would get back to me. Two months had gone by but still no word from Keenan. Finding it strange, I didn’t bother giving him a shout.

One night out at a club with some friends, I saw this guy who looked like Keenan walk by. I gave him a nudge and Keenan recognized me immediately. He said his phone broke and he was trying desperately to find me, but I had closed my Facebook account.

Since then, my weeks of December have been catching up with Keenan, sharing stores of playing hockey, fights we got into and of course, middle school crushes. Plus playing the game, “whatever happened to…”. He tells me how funny it is that in the whole of South Africa, I was placed in a small suburb where he lives.

Living in a place so far away from home, it’s nice to have a piece of your past in the present.

Dec 16th _ “Ballerz of the world UNITE”

Since University, I have always tried to organize a basketball game among friends. This tradition continued with UNICEF, Humber College and now, South Africa. With a colleague from Ikhwezi HIV/Aids Centre and Zimbabwean students, 3 on 3 basketball was run at a nearby court. For the occasion, Sarah and Lise created a trophy deemed, “Lord Stanley’s Bottle of Triumph”.

The more we played, the more spectators watching, joined in. One of the participants pulled up his car next to the court to blast sweet reggae tunes. It was good times running “pick and rolls” and “dropping dimes” to the sound of “Mr. Boombastic!”.

At the end of it all, a resolution was made: Basketball every Sunday in the New Year.

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On another note, Sarah and Lise have left today for a road trip to Lesotho and Capetown. Last night we had a Christmas/Send off dinner. With the help of the ladies, I prepared what was close to Chicken Biriyani. Although the resemblance was off, the taste was much more closer.

(pictures to be posted soon. I am having trouble uploading at the moment).

Dec 10th _ “So this is Christmas”

Checking the date I was surprised to see we were 10 days into December. Without the “luxury” of snow, Mariah Carey’s overplayed “All I want for Christmas” and Rudolph the Reindeer’s special on tv, it is hard to realize we are in the “Christmas season”.

Only a few stores have decorations. The houses around me are without - probably at the fear the ornaments will be stolen.

Yet given the influence of Christianity in this province you can bet almost every family will be attending a Nativity play. Most have already begun their vacations as things ultimately slow down in December.

Reflecting on the season, Christmas has always been a special one. As a young child I was excited to see what Santa Clause brought me. Every year I would write him a letter and leave out the cookies and milk. As I grew a little older I started to compare his written letter, with the handwriting of my mother. Suffice to say I was heartbroken when I discovered “Ma could write as good as Santa”.

But Christmas Day is always the ultimate. For a long time, it was just my sister, my mom and the troublemaker. I would make sure to wake up before anyone. We had three couches in our living room of which I dedicated each persons setting for placing the gifts. When my Stepdad joined the family, he squatted on my mother’s dedicated couch. For me, I always enjoyed finding the gift unique to the receiver and feeling their reaction as they opened it on Christmas Day.

Two of my favourite memories, is the Christmas my family from the States came. It had also been just a few years since my cousins from Guyana moved to Canada. After going to midnight mass, all the cousins returned to our apartment to tell ghost stories in the living room. Afterwards, although personal, we shared stories of who got into trouble at school and the consequences – note the narrator always claimed to never be the victim! That night we set a new tradition. Whoever fell asleep first was subjected to getting toothpaste smeared all over their face with the guys getting their nails painted. And last year, Ige and his family joined us for a wonderful Christmas Day. Together, we “ate Christmas” and watched my Uncle’s wedding in Guyana, which took place well over two decades ago.

Although I am away from home, I am very fortunate to experience a new kind of Christmas. This year I get to play Santa Clause for Without Walls children’s Christmas party. To be a part of this and see the joy on a child’s face, will make even my Christmas, extra special.

Nov 23rd _ “Townships”

Under Apartheid rule any non-white persons were forced to live in settlements located outside towns or cities. Deemed “Townships” these areas became a place to essentially dump Blacks and Coloureds (those of mixed ancestry). Services provided were nothing more than a shack to sleep, a little running water and a place to cook. Whites abused this large amount of labour by paying the workers next to nothing.

Living in a township is a very difficult life. Most inhabitants are into drug trafficking, which is then followed by consuming. In such a poor community, human life becomes quite cheap. People are killed over having a few dollars (Rand) in their pocket. It can be expected children will not finish school based on the reason that their parents cannot afford it or the children do not have the motivation or support to continue. Although people are now free to move around, many remain in the townships simply because they cannot afford otherwise.

Big King of Ikhwezi Wellness Centre for HIV/Aids organized a trip to Duncan Village and Mdantsane (the second largest Township in South Africa). Under the auspices of community outreach workers of the Haven Wellness Centre, I was able to visit clients who are suffering from HIV/Aids. While walking through the community in Duncan Village, I noticed a sign, which read: “Trespassers will be shot after hours”.

Leaving the township you cannot help but feel that its inhabitants are the forgotten people of South Africa. But hope comes in the image of the Wellness Centres. Their workers march into these sites each day with the purpose of helping those living in destitution.