Letting Go Gains Tighter Grip

Frustration is easy to come by in South Africa. It’s hard to constantly appreciate the breathe taking beauty of my drive to work when all over the streets are half-finished, half-assed “infrastructure improvements” for the World Cup imposed by a government that (as of late) hasn’t believed much in follow-through. It’s hard to feel excited about the opportunities the 1000 Hills Community Helpers offer the hundreds of women of Inchanga when I pass the same three 16 year olds on the corner trying to make a buck everyday. And how can you appreciate an education that is offered to a child when daily teachers are failing to show up to classes, or if they do show up somehow manage to do anything but teach. I can’t tell you the number of times the classrooms on either side of the library we teach have been filled with screaming Grade 3 or Grade R students. As I said, appreciation is hard. Desperation is easy. There are days when tears find me more frequently than laughter.

Never in my life have I felt such utter exhaustion the way that South Africa grants it to me daily. We wake up before the sun has risen and often arrive home after it sets. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the hardest thing I have experienced yet in my still very young life.

Anyways, moving on. Today I found some clarity. It came to me somewhere between a fit of tears that hit me after receiving a package from my mum that was already open, soaked, covered in mold and 75% destroyed and cooking dinner for the girls. I was cooking eggplant parm and feeling sorry for myself about how tired I felt and how sad I was about the package and how frustrating it is to live in South Africa sometimes (or all the time?). Then, as usually happens, a song played that made me re-evaluate my emotions. “Letting go gains tighter grip.” It is so easy for me to cling to the hardships, there are so many of them around to cling to. I can very easily allow myself to get lost in the overabundance of sadness that dwells here. But why would I ever hold on to that when there are incredible things here that I will never, ever in my life experience again. So my attempt now is to bring these things to you (in blog, photo, and video form). Maybe sharing them will allow me to more fully let go of feeling so desperate.

The first thing I want to share with you is the way we start our days at St. Leo’s Primary School. I know I have mentioned it in earlier blogs, but I want to give you a more vivid depiction. At 7:30am a bell rings in the school yard. 700 children, from Grade R to Grade 7 race to line up in single sex lines, from oldest to youngest. Usually the air is colder and the kids are bundled up like snowmen. The red dust from the ground is usually unsettled from the urgent rush to line up before Mam Mthethwa becomes aggravated. The they sing at least three songs. Almost always in Zulu and without fail in beautiful and natural harmony (Africa somehow breeds it in you in a way I have never seen anywhere else in the world). My soul feels more alive in those 20 minutes than I have ever experienced before.

And don’t even get me started on the amazing female role models I have encountered here. Themba Themba (I’m not joking! That is her name and surname. She married a man with the surname “Themba”) is the administrator and grade 4 teacher at St. Leo’s. Not only does she teach and essentially hold the school together at its seams, she knows every single student (out of 700!) and each of their stories. AND she dances. I wish you could meet her. And then there is Dawn Leppan, who founded the 1000 Hills Community Helpers. She lives in Inchanga and is the only white woman I know who can drive through the valley at night and not turn heads. She takes calls at any hour of the night and has, quite literally, given everything she has to the people she is serving. Her selflessness is apparent in her children as well. Her daughter Karen quite a full-time job to run the dispensary at the center for free. I could go on for pages about these incredible women. I am so blessed to be so regularly surrounded by so many great women.

The cottage one boys at St. Theresa’s boys home are another source of great joy and great frustration. Even despite the 45 minute “chat” (which ended up being more of a 45 minute guilt trip from me about responsibility) Sifiso still called me Bex and walked me to my car and Philane actually did his homework for once. So, I shrug of the frustration and exchange it for the unending love I feel for the 10 boys in Cottage One.

So… 3 moments. It’s easier to focus on the things that are uplifting anyway. Like I said, letting go gains tighter grip.