Confessions of a Hostie 3 (19 page)

I delay the impending food-fest by having a
latte. I have the chance to peruse some of the buffet choices by
looking at the plates of the three boys. Meat is piled high. From
my experience African buffets are a vegetarian's worst nightmare. I
must say that the sausages look delicious.

After this impending feasting indulgence,
I'll go to the gym for an hour and a half.

Thomas and Ian are playing golf straight
after breakfast. I listen as they talk excitedly about how good the
golf courses are in South Africa. By the sounds of it, they have
played plenty. Mrs. Bacher becomes part of the breakfast
conversation. Thomas admits he has a fiery temper on the golf
course. Swear words accompany every poor shot - and he confesses
there are many.

'Swear words or bad shots?' I ask.

'Both' he reveals. 'But do you know what
Danielle, today I won't swear, not once. Instead of the customary
profanities, I will replace my favorite swear word with:
Bacher
.'

He repeats
Bacher
repeatedly, remembering it is pronounced
Bucker
in South African. Thomas's
accent is perfect. He says it with such anger. Jerry Seinfeld's
nemesis was Newman. Every time Jerry saw him, he would grit his
teeth to say 'Newman'. Thomas's rendition of 'Bacher' is similar -
and the more he says it, the more he likes it.

'
Bacher
is
such a great swear word' he reveals cheekily, 'it is like a cross
between bugger and f...'

'Yes, I know what you mean' I interrupt as
another latte is delivered.

I have no doubt the word
Bacher
will become ingrained in his
vocabulary.

Franco eats his third sausage; these are not
petite hotdogs, each should come with their own postcode. Franco
also declares he will be going to the gym. I also grab a sausage -
I'll be at the gym for two hours.

We are not leaving for Soweto until almost
lunchtime, so we have time to enjoy breakfast, as well as the gym.
Franco no longer refers to it as
breakfast
; he now calls it
grazing
.

When Thomas and Ian leave to hit golf balls,
I chat one-on-one with Franco. He really is an interesting fellow.
He and his partner travel extensively in their own time, visiting
out-of-the-way destinations like Greenland, the Himalayas, and
parts of Africa not on most tourist maps. He shares photos on his
computer tablet. I am spellbound by his stories as well as the
spectacular photos. Several lattes later - and a whole lot of
grazing
- I hear all about his last
adventure - to Greenland. I am certain Franco has enjoyed reliving
his trip as much as I've enjoyed listening.

I thought I was well-travelled, yet my
exploits can't compare to Franco's. I listen with fascination,
encouraging him to tell more.

You would think most flight attendants would
be passionate about travel. It is not necessarily so. The last
thing many crew want to do in their spare time is jump on another
aircraft. Some, however, love to travel. Franco enjoys going to
less populated areas. I am a bit like Franco, with a preference for
staying away from big commercial cities. We fly to many anyway.
Some have magnificent natural beauty. I love water, so cities like
San Francisco, Hong Kong, Vancouver, Venice, Rio, Cape Town,
Sydney, and a number of European cities set on iconic rivers are my
favorites for landscapes. In my own time I prefer to go to smaller
out-of-the-way places. Some are near big cities, so I am often able
to visit those while on a layover, but most of my adventures are on
holidays or on days off work. Even so, I am envious of Franco's
exploits.

It takes a lot of planning, time, and money
to travel, particularly getting to hard-to-reach destinations.
Franco and his partner are fortunate to have the job they have,
with access to cheap travel, as well as no real financial or family
burdens. It still takes effort and courage.

Greenland sounds and looks amazing. I
encourage Franco to show me more photos.

I expected Greenland, not to be
green
, like the name suggests, but
to be all
white
. Most of it is in
the Arctic Circle. I thought snow would be everywhere, all year
round. Franco was there in the summer; from the photos I see he is
dressed in standard hiking gear. It doesn't appear to be that cold.
Some of the mountain ranges are spectacular - and I even see
green
(in the photo that is, but I
am also
green
with envy). One photo
takes my breath away. Franco and his partner are sitting in a
natural pool of water. He tells me it is a natural hot spring, one
of many in Greenland.

'It was the perfect bath temperature' Franco
relays with a smile.

In the photo, behind the hot spring, is a
blue water bay with magnificent mountains in the background. I
could not see any snow in the shot, only flowers,
green
grass, and rocky outcrops; yet in the bay's
water are dozens of icebergs. It just goes to show how cold the
ocean water must be.

'Did you dip your toes in there?' I ask
pointing toward the water near one of the icebergs.

'Not on your life' he replies.

Franco is the sort of guy who is able to talk
with most people. He is interesting as well as interested. He is
definitely a people-person. His sexual preference is men, yet he
likes everyone. Most would not immediately pick him for being gay.
I did, but I couldn't care less about his, or anyone else's
sexuality for that matter. Franco is a really good guy. He cares
about people; that's what our expedition into Soweto is all about.
I am looking forward to spending the day with him.

Just as I am finishing my second sausage -
while contemplating that two hours in the gym might not be enough -
in walks a well-dressed, handsome young black man.

'Patrick' yells Franco beckoning the young
man to come over.

Franco knows Patrick well; their familiarity
evident. Franco is genuinely excited to introduce Patrick to me,
with Franco glowing in his descriptions of me. Although flattered,
I am focused on meeting Patrick. What an impressive young man he
is; beautifully spoken and attentive. He speaks only when spoken
to, with a maturity belying his years. He stays only a short while
as he has work to do. We shall see him in a few hours anyhow. I'm
looking forward to it.

After Patrick leaves, Franco tells of
Patrick's desire to learn - to give back to his community. Patrick
is well-educated, yet aware of those less-fortunate than himself.
He and Franco have been to Soweto many times. The color of
Patrick's skin does not necessarily mean he is accustomed to life
in a shanty town. In reality, Franco has spent more time in slums
than Patrick. Until recent times Patrick had not been inside a
shanty town. He'd heard stories, but was sheltered. Both men do
this charity work for the right reasons. I am impressed and
humbled.

I meet Franco and Patrick in the hotel's
foyer at 11:30. Franco and I had a great workout in the gym. I was
a little askew with my two hour workout promise. I often am; even
so, the one hour spent in the gym was intense. The big breakfast
was
the
ying
and the workout
the
yang
. Balance is important in this lifestyle.

We jump in Patrick's modest little car. In
the spirit of sharing, Patrick is giving a lift to another
coworker, a cleaner, who lives in or near Soweto. She is from a
family of eight. I ask questions about her family and home life.
She is a lovely young lady, quite shy, yet friendly. She explains
that she doesn't actually live in Soweto, referring to her home as
'just outside Soweto.' After we drop her off I note the location.
It was a shanty town, not overly far from where we end up driving
to. There appears to be no distinct boundaries. I am sure it is
part of Soweto. I have the feeling she is embarrassed to
acknowledge she actually lived there.

Being self-conscious of the location you live
is a common trait. I hear so many people, when asked where they
live, mention a nearby, more well-known locality. It is always a
better suburb cited, never an inferior one. I guess some traits are
consistent around the world, even here in South Africa.

It must be surreal for this young lady to
live in such simple accommodation, yet go to work at a five star
hotel. She should not be ashamed, yet obviously is. By the way, our
hotel is listed as five star - and I know I am going to sound like
a snob - but, compared to many other hotels we stay, it is not that
luxurious. This is based on my perspective as a global traveler,
comparing apples with apples. Running down a five-star hotel when
we are about to drive into one of the poorest communities on the
planet is probably not wise. The car is getting closer to the heart
of Soweto.

We drive into where the kindergarten is. When
I say 'drive in', it is more like a cross-country adventure. There
are no sealed roads with pristine curbing and channeling, it is a
pot-holed dirt laneway only a few paces wide which takes us close
to the kindergarten.

There is only one other vehicle in the lane -
and I use the word
vehicle
loosely.
It is a van of sorts, held together by rust. Patrick explains the
van is like a local taxi, where a dozen or more people pile in and
pay a small fee to be dropped off somewhere. The vehicle is not
roadworthy and unregistered. My slippers have more tread than the
tires; all tires being different, not just brands, but sizes. I am
guessing the driver would be unlicensed also. It does not seem to
matter here.

Trying to describe a shanty town to someone
who hasn't been is not easy. It is a collection of residences made
out of whatever they could get their hands on at the time: tin,
timber, mud bricks, old tires, chicken wire - anything. They say
one man's rubbish is another man's treasure - or in this case: one
man's rubbish is another man's home.

There is no power, no running water, and no
sewerage. There are communal toilets shared by a group of homes.
How do they get rid of the waste, I wonder? I don't ask; it is
probably best not to know.

The kindergarten is constructed similarly to
the surrounding shanties, featuring several small buildings around
a central playground. Again, the word
playground
might be misleading. The playground
area is tiny, each building is tiny - everything is tiny. Around 30
children cram into an area equivalent in size to my apartment's
bathroom. The walls are not lined. The building looks ready to fall
down. The materials thrown together to make the building are now
covered in paint, making the building look better than it actually
is. No amount of paint can hide the fact that everything is
crooked, uneven, and seemingly just thrown together. The walls lean
and the pieces of tin which form the roof are held down by old
tires and rubbish. Even so, it appears to be waterproof.

The floors are compacted dirt, but kept
clean. The playground is also dirt.

Before I talk about the kids, being the most
important thing, I want to share a list displayed prominently on
the wall in the main 'classroom'. It is entitled:
CHILDREN'S RIGHTS
.

I took a photo of the list, having tears in
my eyes when I read it. I will repeat that list, although it was
handwritten (poorly), inclusive of many spelling and grammatical
errors. I've interpreted it as best I could (and spellcheck has
fixed many of the errors).

This is what it said:

CHILDREN'S RIGHTS AND RESPONSIBILITIES

1. I have the right to be taken seriously and the
responsibility to listen to others.

2. I have the right to privacy and the
responsibility to respect others privacy.

3. I have the right to quality medical care and the
responsibility to take care of myself.

4. I have the right to a good education and the
responsibility to study and respect the teachers

5. I have the right to be loved and protected from
harm

6. I have the right to own my own belongings and the
responsibility to respect the belongings of others.

7. I have the right to special care for special
needs and the responsibility to be the best person I can be.

8. I have the right to have a say in my own care and
any changes to my care and must take responsibility for my own
actions.

9. I have the right to make mistakes and the
responsibility to learn from those mistakes.

10. I have the right to be well fed and the
responsibility not to waste food.

11. I have the right to a comfortable home and the
responsibility to keep it neat and clean.

12. I have the right to be proud of my heritage and
beliefs and the responsibility to respect others.

13. I have the right to be told house rules and the
responsibility to keep truthful.

14. I have a right to a lawyer in a courtroom and
the responsibility to be truthful.

15. I am a real person and have the right to be
treated with respect and dignity and a responsibility to treat
others with respect and dignity.

It is my observation that many of the basic
human rights these kids have been asked to stand up and demand are
taken for granted in most parts of the world.

As for the kids - wow - they are so
beautiful. They are happy, outgoing, and respectful. Many have not
seen someone like myself. I am a novelty. The children have a sense
that their kindergarten is run with funds and assistance from
people like myself, yet they are just kids. We may look and dress
differently, but they know Franco and I are not threatening. They
know we are there to help. The kids are overwhelmingly friendly,
wanting to hold my hand, and to be my pal. I am in awe.