29/07/2010 by Russell.

Goodbye Port Elizabeth, Hello Cape Town, and Cheerio to Hstd Road site

On my final days here in PE, and the World Cup is over. April seems such a long time ago when I arrived, full of expectation of what was to come, coaching, the footy and South Africa itself.

What we read in the papers in the UK or believe what townships are like, or the black people and society in general here, would be true if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. This can be said of LA, Toxteth, a suburb of Paris, or any inner city estate around the world, except the difference being here is that there are literally thousands of such deprived estates here (townships), beyond the scope of your imagination. Each citizen is entitled to a one room house, and they are in all kinds of condition, in addition there are the wooden and tin shacks all around on waste ground.

The blacks and whites and coloureds all mix during the day and in the public spaces, such as malls, beaches, tourist spots etc, and there is nothing to fear. However, go to a township and walk the streets at night alone, then you are a fool. Common sense applies, but that all seems to be forgotten throughout the newspaper reports. Boris Johnson has been over here and recently wrote a good piece in the Telegraph. I have been in black neighbourhoods at night, I have walked with Buntu and his friends, but there is always safety in numbers and of course I am with black people. I have also gone from taxi to the door. All in all, the black people are most welcoming and want to meet you and shake you by the hand, they want conversation. I have even had one man say I was the first englishman he had ever spoken to or heard speak, a compliment indeed. If individuals like me and other white foreigners don’t go to the townships, how can the word spread of their plight or living conditions or their welcoming nature. Unemployment is grim here, 60-80%, and they stand on street corners looking for work, they act as car park attendants, they fill your car up with fuel, they run little market stalls, they sell ray ban sunglasses at traffic lights, anything to scratch a living. Yet they are mostly positive individuals, they know the political system isn’t the best here with money disappearing down more black holes to line the pockets of officials. However, as I knew I would, I love the black community, love their footy skills and their genuine kindness, and they have nothing to give back other than hospitality. There are many beautiful kind people here.

As for my soccer coaching, well it has all been a bit stop start and experiences have all been genuinely good, are there any decent players here? I have found 3, two 18 yr olds and a 13 yr old. Incredible, just like anywhere else, talent is easily spotted and as everywhere else is truly thin on the ground. There is a lot of milk and cream here, but the cream at the very top of the milk is very thin. Do they have a chance, none whatsoever, they need to come to England to get anywhere, and for that I don’t have the contacts anymore nor the funds to bring over. It is a shame, the young lad – Reeve – is exceptional, he could even use the wind to make his pass work, and he has fantastic temperment along with skill. Please let me take him home! The coaching has not been as expected, the schools were disruptive, the weather has cancelled sessions and the kids have not always been the same. To take this further for me I would have loved to coach a team. I have seen kids play in our tournaments during the world cup, and they would generally out pass and beat an equivalent age group of kids in England at 15-16 yrs old. The younger ones lack team play.

Is PE a great place? In truth it is an industrial town with car factories, tyre factories etc, a port and airport, it is a working town, and yet unemployment is still high. There is talk of moving the docks and using the existing site as a tourist hub with a marina, light years away I guess. The Boardwalk area is very safe and westernised, a small mall, casino, hotels etc and a beach. But because of PE’s size it is about 6-7 km away, and is not walkable, another taxi ride for anything from 60rand to 100rand (｣6 to ｣10). Because I have been here so long, I have my own driver now – Chris, very economic. The town centre is shabby and not a great architectural feast. But PE has opened my eyes to modern South Africa with Malls, cinemas, some excellent restaurants and bars are on the increase. If you ever come here eat at the ‘Butchers Bloc’ in Newton Park. Great food.

PE is like a little america, wide highways with robots (traffic lights), drive through MacDonalds, KFC’s and Nando’s. Even petrol stations have take away places, but they are not ‘fast food’ as we know it, you end up waiting, no good for the Westerners here, I guess many visitors for the world cup wondered why it takes so long – this is Africa, it is slow at times.

But PE is a gateway to many places, you can get along the garden route very easily and there are some spectacular places to visit, Plettenberg Bay, Storms River, Robberg peninsular, Knysna, etc and going towards Durban is the ‘wild coast’ Morgans Bay, Coffee Bay, Grahamstown, Mthata ( Mandela Museum) etc. If you arrived here the scenery is outstanding along with the Indian Ocean. Which was too cold for me to swim, but get up to Durban and it will be warm, remember it is winter here now.

What about me? For me it has been a time for reflection, yes of course I have thought about West Herts College and the impending move, but in truth it has only been a little thought..the trip so far has enabled me to de-stress (is that a word?) and I think in hindsight it was the right decision, to change my perspective and get out of the maelstrom of the College. I am also of the opinion that I will have to return here, I have also considered my next moves and would like to start a charity to utilise cast off sports equipment. There is none here, kids in bare feet, or at best socks, no shorts or jerseys. Think of all the boots and kit which is thrown away in the UK, it can have a use here.

I am seeing the world with a new pair of eyes and am grateful for that, my brain is uncluttered for the first time and it is a good feeling.

Trivia:

• MacDonalds is not highly visible, only 2 here I know of. KFC and Nando’s beat them hands down

• There are 3 multiplex cinemas in town

• Woolworths (yes) is like Marks and Spencer’s

• Round-a-bouts are ‘circles’

• Sun goes down about 5.30pm and rises about 7am (yes its like our winter for daylight)

• The wind can be here for days, and the sun can be out without a cloud for days

• When it rains, stay indoors

• There is no such thing as central heating

• Coloured is not a derogatory term here, just a description

• Water is safe to drink

• Litter is all over the townships, they don’t have refuse collection like we do

• Re-cycling is very limited

• Castle lager is not exceptional, palatable to many though

• Wimpy is everywhere

• I have seen, Old Mk1 Cortinas, Mini’s, MGBs, Mk1 Ford Escort, Morris Minor, etc, many cars we have given up on long ago are still running

• You need a car to get around, it is a big country.

• Petrol is about 80p a litre

But just as I listen to Monty Pythons ‘Bright Side of Life’ I think of the optimism amongst the black community despite the cards they have been dealt.

I hope the move to the new WHC campus goes OK, but I hear of redundancies, more off putting news of the world I left in April.

Monday takes me to Cape Town, an hours flight away….

Posted in Port Elizabeth, Springsteen | 1 Comment »

20/05/2010 by Russell.

Buntu’s Life

Who is he? How do I know him? What has shaped his life?

Buntu is our night security man, he is 23 and ensures the safety of the volunteers with Umzingisi. He works here in Newton Park, PE, 4 nights a week and travels down from one of the many townships around PE. He plays pool with the ‘inmates’ and chats to us all. He has treated some of us to the local speciality – goats head, very tender, but it is a head. I didn’t eat the tongue, but this is delicious, so Buntu says.

Buntu’s family consists of a twin sister an elder brother (who’s just been released from prison) and an older sister. But more of that later.

Buntu is just like every young man, he chases women, drinks, listens to music, loves to dance and watches television and sport, and just like every African this summer is looking forward to the world cup. Nothing different then to any normal young mans desires at his time of life, he wants to study to be a social worker at the university, he wants to own a scooter, he seeks a better life, believes in being lawful and follows the bible and attends church, so in many respects a better Christian than many in the UK. However, here ends the similarity, and here is a snapshot of his life, and it makes you marvel at the sane level headedness Buntu possesses amid all the chaos he has had to endure through his very formative years.

Buntu’s parents were -perhaps- even well off by South African standards, particularly for blacks. His father was a Lieutenant in the army, they lived in a 10 room house, he lived on the bettter estates and had good schooling. Schools are very important in the communities here.

When he was about 10 or so, his father was pensioned out of the army with a payment of R3,000,000 and he also had another job. It was about now when his parents split up and his father went to live with another woman, divorce followed and the court decided that his mother could keep the daughters to live with her, but Buntu and his brother lived with the father, the army pension was to be kept by his father etc..For a while everything was good, the girlfriend of the father was pleasant and kind. The army pension was spent on a bar, the furnishings and décor was provided by the local government, so his father was still earning a modest income.

Time went by, and his father married the girlfriend and the bar started to get run down, the father and new wife were getting drunk, his father owned 3 cars, the bar was making a loss, at the same time the new wife began to pressurise Buntu for chores and became more demanding.

His father and new wife were blesed with a child, this now became Buntu’s main chore, looking after his step brother whilst his father and step mum plied themselves with drink. Buntu had to drop out of school for a year to look after the baby, then another child was born. The whole process was repeated again, Buntu wanted to enjoy childhood by playing with other children and not be looking after babies.

The straw which seemed to break the camels back, was school shoes, his father had to ask the step mother for permission to buy Buntu shoes he couldn’t do without. School shoes here in PE are very much cherished as is the school uniform. This was the turning point and Buntu returned to live with his mother. As you can imagine, Buntu’s father didn’t appreciate this and further court action followed.

His mother is a seamstress and made little money, and currently lives and works in East London, some 40km away from her children.

At one stage the family moved from small one room houses with great regularity and schools with the same frequency. At one stage Buntu was living with 6 families under one roof all with different age groups, older men out drinking, younger children needing their sleep, all wanting to wash at the same time, invariably these houses only have one tap and no toilet. How would you cope? the nearest I come is queuing with 11 other people here for the bathroom in PE. This bathroom has a toilet, a shower and a bath.

So to summarise, Buntu moved in with his mum at about 12 years of age, and changed schools as regularly as we change our clothes. His education became harder to complete.

Now if I had this kind of upbringing, I guess I would be an angry young man and wonder why on God’s planet did I deserve this? I guess I would also be demoralised too.

As Buntu took up his schooling, he was fortunate to come across Pascal, who is part of Umzingisi, who through luck and perhaps good fortune was able to secure a form of scholarship for Buntu.

Buntu, has finished his schooling, and at times has been met with futher disappointment just at the time when he was studying the equivalent of GCSE’s at 16. His mother was diagnosed as HIV positive. Not good. Buntu again came to the rescue. He took another year off school to nurse his mother. Who had also given birth to a baby. Sadly the baby contracted HIV, presumably through breast milk (one of the easiest ways for kids to be infected). The baby died at about 3 years old. His mother follows a drug programme which abates the virus(?) and goes about her business in a normal fashion.

Thus Buntu has not experienced any part of his formative years with a normal childhood or stabilty, which is probably central to the development of any child. Yet Buntu is just like you and me despite this hardship.

Today, Buntu lives with his twin sister and her two small children, His elder sister and her husband and their one child, until recently Buntu lived in a wooden shack in the garden, which he built and has been been given over to his brother since his return from prison.

In their one room home, there is one cold tap, a toilet without a cistern, no shower, it’s full of clothes, one double bed, a sink, no cooker, a fridge freezer and a tv. Buntu and the children sleep on the floor. But life goes on.

His girlfriend, Nomthetho, sleeps in a bed with her ageing mother who can’t walk, her twin brother sleeps in an adjacent room, they too have one tap, no toilet (it’s derelict outside), a room with a tv, a separate kitchen, and yet they are proud citizens of the world. They have to stand up in a plastic bath to wash, and wash their clothes in the same manner. Would you live like that year in year out? These people have no choice, the government give them the house, and it is their duty for its upkeep, these houses were new in the 1950’s with asbestos roofs, they have sagging ceilings, they are akin to a modern slum.

These communities are by modern standards poor in everything they do and yet they invite you in to share their lives, and hopefully by individuals such as myself who will write about it and tell more people will the situation change through communication.

There is no refuse collection, there is limited sanitation, the public coin operated phones don’t exist – stolen of course – card operated phones survive. They all have a mobile phone, where airtime is consumed by the second, not minutes. These communities are very supportive to each other and in many respects Christianity has kept a balance on their lives. In Britain we wouldn’t stand for it one minute, but seeing and experiencing the hospitality of Buntu’s family has been a marvellous moment of my visit to PE, nay change that to a privilege, and I will be round Buntu’s again at the next invitation. Pictures are posted up for you to see at http://www.getjealous.com/rustycarno

Posted in Port Elizabeth, South Africa | 1 Comment »

29/04/2010 by Russell.

Thursday April 15^th The main event World Cup tickets went on general sale today, we queued at the official ticket office in the local shopping precinct before 7am. A queue – or rather- a group outside the entrance had formed, once out of our mini bus, the 11 strong mix of English Spanish Swiss and American , the crowd formed a defensive wall to stop our gang dominating the crush for tickets. As in everything, the best laid plans didn’t work, we were told the ticket shop opened at 7, alas, we had to wait until 9.00am.  Let the stampede commence…we wanted our 140 rand tickets, but not being South African residents we quickly learnt we had pay top dollar, $80, $100 etc.  Our wait was almost over…the tension…the hype..the camera’s..the flash guns popping…only to stand for another 3 hours before getting served the the booth. One PC not working, chronically slow system, hand written numbers on tatty pieces of paper to signify our places in the queue. Shambolic. Reminding me of the rush for FA Cup tickets in 1997 for Chesterfield, can Fifa and visa do no better then this in 2010? 3 hours inside the ticket office to purchase match tickets for Port Elizabeth. Job done, forget the volunteering to coach kids on our first day here in PE. So the net result, we all managed to get the tickets we wanted, England vs Slovenia, the top group match of Portugal (Viva Ronaldo!) versus Ivory Coast, Germany v Serbia (Nemanja)and a potential quarter final match ticket for me with the potential visitors to town being Brazil. To top it off I had my photo taken with the official mascot for the World cup website here in PE, anyone seen it yet? Oh and in the afternoon I did some basketball coaching with Toby my German room mate, forget football, too many coaches and too few kids.  It’s a start anyway. Monday 18^th April What to do on a weekend in Port Elizabeth?  Our first weekend in the city with Umzingisi, namely our hosts Hannah and Kurt?  Many of the young rat pack were taken up river to have a paintballing, quad biking and drinking weekend, leaving myself, Eduardo, Toby, Nick and Fran at the house.  Saturday should have been a golfing weekend, however, we had to make do with a driving range, using Kurt’s clubs -  must say I played par golf mainly. Thrilled with some of my iron shots! The afternoon saw us watch United vs City at the Hockey club where we went to watch Hannah play.  Big screen – duly noted for forthcoming world cup – and a great last minute goal, where I had to give a chorus to the gathered ensemble of – UNI – TED, United are the team for me etc… The demented englishman must have looked as though he had arrived from a different planet. Sunday was to be Kurt’s hockey match, I declined and went to the beach with Nick and Fran, for all the locals would have gathered they (Nick and Fran)could have passed for being my children. Still the boardwalk market was popular and prices for prints and carvings could be negotiated. Next Sunday is the Ironman challenge in PEMonday quickly arrived and we drove some 60km to two schools for coaching, at last we found some grass.  The kids enjoyed their sessions as I did too.  Mainly because I could run the session myself with the aid of Nick, and control the activities for an hour and a half. More of the same in the afternoon. Poker in the evening – which I was awarded poor hands. For example losing a full house to another full house!’ Weds 22^nd April Coaching has been a mixed bag, some playing fields would be shut automatically in the UK on grounds of ‘health and safety’.  Already one of our football coaches-nick- has been taken to hospital for stitches to ahead wound. The pitches vary from all loose stones and soil, to grass and stones, to clumps of weeds, it is incredible that these children play all the sports here with determination and without fear despite the conditions of these pitches. Among the children I have witnessed playing football, there are some very talented individuals. Skills are part of the game, and they have mastered many of the complex techniques from an early age.  However, there are those who are not so skilful.  There is no fear to head or tackle, this remember is done in sock and bare feet but not often in shoes unless the conditions dictate. The kids need formulate team play, and are willing participants, I will soon run out of drills to do.  Some of the younger coaches here are very limited in scope which they can offer children, luckily I have been fortunate to team up with Toby and Nick, and we have more variety than the ‘penalty shoot out’. It is exhausting, and often end they day having travleed between three schools aand offered an hour and a half’s coaching.  Today we sit and wait, the weather is windy aand rain is expected, which because of bare feet and socks -coaching is cancelled. Do the kids play in sports gear? No Do we see football boots? One pair seen so far Do we see happy smiling faces? Yes Do we see pride in their uniforms? Yes Do we see innocence of youth? Yes Do we see poverty? Yes Oh and by the way the bathroom has no hot water or ceiling, we had a flood and water throughout, it all happens here.

Thursday 22^nd April

 Thursday(23rd) arrived with imminent rain, so no coaching, it was a hastily arranged set of visits to 2 museums – Red Location Museum and South End Museum. Red Location depicts the story of the Apartheid years around Jo’burg such as Sharpeville massacre and the impact of apartheid around Port Elizabeth.  Surprisingly PE has been at the centre of the political movement against apartheid, namely some of the leading activists have lived in PE, such as Nelson himself and of course the late bantu Steven Biko.  The museum features his life and his development into a key activist, immortalised in Peter Gabriel’s song ‘Biko’, “September 77 in Police room 619…Biko..oh Biko..”  His life was, like so many,was curtailed far too soon by the politcal events of the 1970s. South End museum was altogether more focussed on the area in which the museum was located, including some sports memorabilia. Did it rain? Only after 6pm. So no schooling completed.  I started reading Larssons third book of the Millenium trilogy, ‘The Girl who kicked the hornets nest@ Friday 23rd Nil coaching, rain, well it rained overnight, hence damp grass and pitches, although the Umsingisi School of excellence was on.  We turned up to coach/mentor young teenagers, however, we played football amongst ourselves whilst the HIV project continued unabated in the playground.  Well at least our team won the footy.  Evening spent 10 pin bowling, one of the crew returned home with his bowling shoes on, oh well….more reading Saturday 24^h Shopping, internet, and golf, the rest were bunjee jumping.  Nearly finished the book. Sunday 25^th Ironman was in town, the event consisits of 3.8km swim, 180km cycle ride, and 42.5km marathon.  The winner completed this in 8hours 28mins 23 secs in searing heat.  I saw the event down on the boardwalk, music, tv, etc..and quietly read my book in the sunshine. A very hot day indeed. Monday 26^th Bank holiday on Tuesday, so no schools are open on the Monday, this is normal practice in SA.  So I looked for cards and presents for forthcoming birthdays, cards no problem, presents all in vain. It was decided to play a round of golf, we had decided to look for second hand clubs, since Eduardo and I concluded there is going to be a lot of down time, so golf would be a suitable alternative to while away the hours. We played, I faltered on the only birdie opportunity in our four ball, with Kurt, Oscar and us two.  I hadn’t played in over 5 years – but hey, I had some good shots with borrowed clubs, can only get better. Finished 746 pages just after breakfast – a record for me or does this tell me that there is far too little activity to occupy us here? Tuesday 27^th Football tournament in motherwell district, exciting, only we were giving coaching to the kids who came along for the HIV testing and tournament to watch.Stood around for another 3 hours watching the kids play football on wasteground, whilst the tournament went ahead in the background.  Shamefully we left early and was unable to see a single game played. Everyone wanted to return home. I got another new t shirt for my troubles today.   Arrived back and slept. Knackered for doing nothing. Tonight to the casino to watch the match on a big screen. Yawn…coaching in earnest tomorrow?

Posted in Port Elizabeth, South Africa | 1 Comment »