I get by with a little help from my frie..ughhhh...Lindi.

        

            The bus was a half hour late this morning.  Apparently we got two more riders to pick up, which makes the bus ride longer for me.  The bumpy ride started out with some jumpin’ African jams that I was actually grooving to.  I found myself daydreaming while staring out the window-instead of my normal head bobbing/drooling on myself.  The sun was much brighter than normal because of the bus driver being late, and it was completely blinding me most of the ride.  In between the sun blinding me and random forms of shade, I could see families waking up, children playing in the streets, women washing and beating clothes the old fashioned way and hanging them up on a line, and then...... I saw a woman walking down the trailish-looking sidewalk carrying a 5 gallon bucket of water balancing on her head.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  Of course I’ve seen stuff like that on TV, but when you’re in reality... it’s a little different.  When I realized that my hands were plastered on the window and my mouth hanging open, I pondered... how in the hell does she not break her neck?  Or how does she not suffer from an awful headache?  Then it hit me... I am the complete American Idiot that we are portrayed as here in the townships.  This morning, I was just complaining about how I had a headache because of the headband I had on, and sometimes I’m a little winey about the 5 blocks I have to walk with my stupid backpack to where the bus drops me off and picks me up everyday... yet, these women are carrying 5 gallon buckets of water on their heads and have babies and toddlers tied to their back?  Reality check??  Yes.  

When I was finally arriving at work...still in complete awe of my epiphany that I had, I was strolling down the block to my building when I heard small footsteps pattering behind me.  As fast as I could look, I felt a grab on my hand and looked down to see a young boy that was probably 4 or 5ish.... before I could say a word, he smiled and kissed my hand and then ran back home.  I continued to walk, thinking about all the crazy things I have managed to get into this morning, while rockin’ a big cheesy smile on my face.  I marched up the stairs to my office and was greeted by all the women I work with... “Goot mourning Halley-buppah, why is you late?”, one of the ladies asked.  I told them that my bus driver was late and they all replied with laughter because they know how the transportation works here.  I sat in my office, still pondering... and grabbed a text book, and yes... like the stupid American that I am, tried to walk around with it balanced on my head.  Just as I was taking a step, Linda (Lindi, as I call her) walked in and caught me... “Wut are you doing miss?”, she says.  I had to laugh and before I could even explain and she blurts out: “You’re American, your head is too big and too round.” and then she slightly chuckles at me.  Linda, (Lindi).. is the social worker at Umtha Welanga.  She is my age and she is from Zimbabwe and also very intelligent, and I swear she knows more about the politics in America than the average American does.  Her favorite thing to do is study and learn, and ask me thousands of questions about America and the trends.  Lindi makes sure I know what it feels like to be the minority, in a protective/awkward kind-of-sort-of manner.  She often calls me out on my struggles and the awkward American traits I seem to have, but without her... struggle wouldn’t even begin to describe my day at work.  She teaches me everything I need to know, and what is acceptable and what is not acceptable in this township and culture.  

Yesterday, at work.. Lindi was frustrated because we had an inspection from their government and it delayed everything she has to do for the week.  So when lunch rolled around, she looks at me and says “Alright, come on.  We have to go to the transportation office and I want you to see what it’s like...... oh, and don’t bring anything with you... we don’t want you getting mugged.” My response...well, I couldn’t even respond and just followed her out the door.  As we were walking, she told me that a lot of people are going to try to get my attention and not to listen to them unless we want to be followed all over the place.  It was hard not to look around at the people everywhere, and the little booths (that somewhat resemble carnival food stands and little shacks) that are their shops and stores, for example: “Get your passport here”.. and “Funeral services here”.  I was beginning to realize I was completely out of my element, but with Lindi by my side... I was safe.  We managed to make it to the transportation office, which is their form of a DMV.  Lindi needs to get her drivers license so she doesn’t have to use the unsafe public transportation every day.  Their building looked like a train station, with 3 different box cars in a row that are for applying, eye test, and then the driving test.  It was incredibly awkward and entertaining... as it became apparent that I was the only white girl within a 15 mile radius because of all the looks I was receiving.  After Lindi applied, we moved over to the box car where she was supposed to take the eye exam.  There was a lot of people in there and of course there were only two chairs open, and they were not next to each other.  She looks at me and points at the chair for me to sit.  I sat down and immediately, I realized how bad the room stinks.  I was sitting closest to the open door, so I tried to make it look sneaky that I was taking gulps of fresh air and then when I turned my head I’d have to hold my breath.  Now, to explain the smell without sounding like a complete arrogant American... water here is scarce.  Especially in the shacks in the townships.  They don’t have running water in their homes so they have to walk to the water stand (hence, the lady carrying the 5 gallon bucket..).  Since this is difficult, showers and bathing only happen once a week or so.  So..... you can use your imagination.  The waiting seemed to be longer and longer and we were running out of time on our ‘lunch break’, so Lindi said that we should probably head back and she will have to try again later.  On the way home, it was starting to get a little busy, as kids were getting home from school. As we were strolling along, we started hearing shouts from all the men, “Hey Melanie!” and another man would shout, “Hey Amanda!”.. Lindi starts laughing and I ask, “Who are they talking to?”  She gives me a chuckle like, really Haley??  “They are talking at chu white girl, Melanie is a white name..”  I give an awkward laugh and she told me to just not pay attention to them.  Yeah, that works real well with me!  The conversation died and I found myself to be looking around the neighborhood, or so I thought.  All of a sudden I feel a slap/grab on my arm and look over to Lindi saying “Halley, you are staring into peoples houses! Stop doing that!”  I didn’t even realize I was until she grabbed me.  In Africa it’s a trend to leave your doors completely wide open during the day, especially when the sun is out.  So yeah... I’m guilty as charged and called out.  I was staring into peoples houses.  Sometimes I don’t know what I would do without Lindi here to save me every day.  

We arrived back at work and before I knew it, my bus driver was knocking at the door telling me it was time to leave.  I know right, me loosing track of time?? Who would of thunk.  I said my goodbyes to everyone and they all hugged me, even my bus driver.  Weird.  The bus ride back went faster than the speed of lightening, as I was trying to register my day and still adjusting to the life style of Khayelitsha.  How did I ever get to be so lucky?  To be able to experience all of this and learn so much, and be the minority for once?  I’m still trying to figure that all out with a big smile on my face.  I’m doing something that makes me happy.  and I will do it until I die.  

Well, until we meet again.... Usale ngoxolo!  (good bye ;) !)