On the Road in South Africa
Tim
Cunningham's Journal Ficksburg 12/04/04
Tim
Cunningham's Journal Crossroads 12/07
Farewell from Ntandabantu, a town that has been
without water for almost 2 years.
11/21/04 Amazing Grace Children's Home - Malelane,
Mpumalanga
We drove our Nissan Sentra, packed to the brim with
gear and luggage, into Malelane hoping to find the
Children's home withut a phone number or directions.
Luckily, some folks at a Caltex station knew exactly
where we must go - Malelane being a small town near
the border of Mozambique in Mpumalanga. Passing a
recycling center and a train station, we entered the
facility and were immediately struck by the wonderful
designs and colorful murals on all the buildings. It
certainly looked like children were around!
We were met by Sipho and Daniel, two care givers,
and quicly got situated with the plan for the day.
Amazing Grace is a complex that cares for over 50
orphans though the government only provides funding
for 35. We later learned that Grace Mashaba, the
founder and director, just can't say "no" to a needy
child. Because Malelane is close to the border of
both Swaziland and Mozambique, the children come from
all over the southern contintent including many parts
of South Africa. Many of them have been orphaned due
to HIV/AIDS although poverty, abuse, and neglect also
contribute to the causes of abandonment. We were
introduced to Gracie, a young girl who had been found
8 years ago as aninfant wrapped in celophane. Another
11 year old girl, a victim of a sex ring and awaiting
results from HIV testing, was reunited with her
brother of 8yrs. She and a group of friends were
laughing at Tim's Mr. T mohawk which has provided much
intial entertainment wherever we go. In fact, all of
the children seemed to be adjusting to the communal
living of the center and enjoying themselves on this
hot cloudy Sunday afternoon though they come from very
traumatic backgrounds. We also briefly met Grace
Mashaba, a Malawian with an enormous heart and a
loving care for all. She is the "mother" for all
the
children and wishes only to make the world a better
place when she leaves it.
Just as we were about to start the clown parade to
the tent they had erected for the day, Garth, a
Johannesburg based clown/juggler arrived. We had been
trying to get in touch with him all weekend and were
afraid he would miss out. He is planning on starting
a Clowns Without Borders chapter here in South Africa
with a focus on African issues. Later, he wowed us
all with his warm rapport with the children and his
good heartedness and willingness to teach and learn
from others. We also learned that it is a good idea
to know a few Zulu words and are quickly brushing up!
Our show went quite smoothly considering that we
have had very little rehearsal time and this is only
our 3rd day. We are beginning to play more freely
with our audiences and find the right moment for
laughter. It still seems like the real work comes
after the show when you can connect on a more
individual basis. Indeed, while Tim and Garth taught
juggling with rocks, Jonathan danced his feet off in
the tent to township music, Liz played with infants
and toddlers, and I entertained on my banjo-ukelele
singing the few African songs I know and some American
folks tunes as well. We then had a group picture and
packed up our little car preparing to head off to
Kwazulu/Natal.
My departing impression of Grace and her children
is one of a magical potental for healing through a
loving kindness that binds us all. While the children
and staff were more than grateful for our visit, it
was an honor to be able to perform at such a lovely
place. Grace told us she cried when we asked if we
could perform for her children; many of us also cried
when we saw the children dance, play, laugh, and live
in such a nurturing environment.
That's all for now.
Take it easy but take it,
Love
Jabulani
(my Zulu name)
the beginning of our show in Ixopo at a primary school
where four orphans had committed suicide in the last
month due to stress and depression.
Ficksburg – December 4, 2004
Sunrise at 5 AM. Awake at 6. Joy, excitement for the day.
Jack’s dogs are barking outside, anticipating our rising.
I wake up with manic energy, a renewed spirit of play, at
the same time exhausted like the dogs who are now napping
out front. It is 7 AM. Here we go with the 5 gig day!
First. A trip to Lesotho, border crossing into trash strewn
streets filled with merchants selling medicinal herbs, swinging
walking sticks Kung-Fu style at Jonathan as he fights back
with his Irish charm. “Dumela” (How are you?)
as we wait in line to get our passports stamped. Two lanes,
dodging traffic of tourist buses, livestock, and children
amongst the pot holes. We climb hills that reveal miles and
miles of graded fields, plateaus, jagged forlorn peaks and
thirsty river beds. Right turn into a Seventh Day Adventist
Hospital.
Jack tells us about %50 of Lesotho’s population is now
infected with HIV or AIDS. He takes us past overcrowded wards
of patients, many of whom we assume are suffering AIDS related
illnesses—gaunt faces, some smiling as we walk by. We
pass a man in a secluded room, his skin draped over his bones
like worn leather. You wonder how many patients will walk
out of this place alive.
We turn to face the children’s ward and rush upon the
scene unannounced. The children are eating mealies a corn
based meal typical of this part of Africa, Tabo, an English
speaking child in a wheelchair who looks like he suffers from
MS and has a bulging colostomy bag at his side welcomes us
and watches us play with some disparagement. He asks Liz why
the other kids think we’re so funny.
We are busy stealing food, throwing invisible balls across
the room and performing obvious magic tricks to the hungry
crowd. In the room opposite we meet a 2 year old girl whose
hands are bound by bandages and an I.V. She cracks a smile
when we round the corner into her room but then whines with
apprehension when we come too close. We yearn to hug her and
hold her wounded hands.
Our adventures have already put us behind schedule so we race
out the hospital, Tabo, in his wheelchair joins us as we stop
to give a thumbs up and silly waves to tiny, emaciated boy
with bright purple lips. We only wish we could stay at the
hospital all day.
We zoom in the Land Rover back to the South Africa border
past swarms of white moths along the sides of the road. The
words “HIV/AIDS” are painted on rocks on a hillside.
Lesotho is being absolutely devoured by the pandemic.
Jamie and Liz perform the “Newspaper Routine”
Back at Jack and Claire’s we suit up and pack the trunk
for a show at Angel’s Home, a small orphanage of about
11 kids, the smallest we’ve performed at so far. The
kids have been waiting for nearly an hour for us. We play
in the blaring heat and sunshine then end up with a dance
party and chase into the cool crèche where we sing
about Abraham and all his sons until the Christmas cake arrives.
It is our cue to leave.
A short break, a swim, shower and lunch as a HUGE storm front
rolls in. The sky opens up as thunder pounds us. The roads
of the township near Ficksburg, Free State begin to turn to
mud, thank God for the 1972 Land Rover. The gate is locked
at the community center where we are to perform, so as we
wait for a key, Jamie and Tim slide out into the mud and play
with the growing crowd as the rain passes over. 30 minutes
of slapstick later and a near run in with some local teenage
boys, we are ready to begin the show!
Falling over and bending metal tables, stealing a boy’s
bicycle, and discovering the next Nelson Mandela, we exhaust
ourselves in one of our most playful and inclusive shows yet
(they seem to get better and more fun with each performance).
The welcomed rain starts up again as we finish the show and
lead the audience like the Pied Pipers of Hamlin back out
front for some post-show antics. Unfortunately we have to
rush to our fourth gig of the day, 40 more kids who will have
returned from a day trip to the local zoo.
We arrive late…the bus is not there, perhaps it broke
down? We hope for the safety of the 40 kids when 7 street
youth arrive. Our show turns into and hour or so of empowerment
juggling games, two-highs, and some simple music lessons.
The 40 kids never show (the bus was fine and all were safe).
So our fourth gig of the day becomes a lesson in teaching
and learning how to teach the skills we often take for granted.
The bus returns, too late for a performance, so it takes all
40 kids to a house that they ALL share a home the length of
3 SUV’s front to back with metal roofs and a barren
yard fenced in with car bumpers. We have seen such deep levels
of poverty in combination with the most spirited youth we’ve
known.
Our final gig is a Christmas dinner for the Ficksburg Rotary
Club. This is an opportunity to give a slide show presentation
of what we do, teach some slight of hand tricks and juggling,
and most of all try to raise awareness and support for next
year’s expedition. We are wined and dined and despite
the tasty food have a hard time savoring all the flavors as
we think about the starving, disease ridden people literally
across the street. In one day alone we have witnessed the
depths of poverty and the pinnacles of wealth.
In our exhaustion we simply hope that we have helped folks
laugh, relax, enjoy and feel inspired, regardless of status
or wealth, to move forward, together working for a common,
progressive, and just good.
Dancing to “Pata! Pata!” in the finale
with 12 orphans at the Angel’s Home for Children.
Beautiful Gate Children’s Home, Crossroads, Cape Town
- December 7, 2004
The Sun in Cape Town is blazing hot! Last night’s sunset
over Table Mountain was like a live action Salvador Dali painting,
finishing up with city lights illuminating the rock like midnight
clouds.
We slept hard, our bodies beginning to recover from the two
day drive from Ficksburg to Cape Town. Well rested and rearing
to go, we drove into the sprawling suburban township of Crossroads
to the Beautiful Gate Children’s Home. Beautiful Gate
houses and cares for 40 orphans, 38 of whom are infected with
HIV or AIDS, all of whom are affected. These kids, joyful,
playful, skinned knees, booger noses, and grass-stained clothes
have contracted HIV through birth and will be fighting all
their lives to simply live. The government has finally made
anti-retro-virals available to this particular organization.
Faith runs Beautiful Gate, faith based giving and volunteer
work warms this place tremendously.
About 150 people in total see our show today; the orphans
and folks from the township fill a huge open field. The grass
has been freshly mowed and is as slick as ice, making our
chase scenes and pratfalls much funnier. The clinic staff
does their best to upstage us and a random dog across our
playing space nearly steals the show. The Doctor’s Wind
(a wind that rips through the Cape Flats in the summer, cooling
all from the heat) ruins the juggling and paper tossing bits
as we become fools to our surroundings.
The show ends and we are hounded by kids as we retreat to
a dilapidated tennis court for shelter. The township members
head back to work and play and we have some free time with
the orphans who all want to wear our noses, touch all the
props, ride on our shoulders, and most importantly to be held
and acknowledged. Here we begin to see the grim face of AIDS
bearing down on a few of the kids.
The overworked staff thanks us with prayer and laughter filled
enthusiasm. We are left with blessings of protection for the
rest of our journey…again we would rather stay and play
there for days. There is so much playing to be done!!!!
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