It’s All About Work

The reason I’m here is work, so it is about time I start talking about work. I have just finished my first week at Paballo ya Batho.  This organization is focused on meeting the needs of the homeless and destitute that reside in downtown Johannesburg.  While I am here, I will be doing asset mapping to build the resources of Paballo ya Batho. Growing the web of resources will build capacity and better meet the needs of those people who utilize the provided services.

Currently Paballo has one paid staff member, its director, Sam. Alone, he organizes a Monday afternoon bread service which sometimes serves 150 people, a Tuesday support group with bread and tea service, a Wednesday night bread and soup drive that delivers bread and soup to three separate locations.  A team of medical students join the team of volunteers on Wednesday night to give medical assistance to anyone who may require it.  This evening is mostly about the soul.  The street homeless desire recognition as human beings and even though they get sustenance, the conversations are wide and diverse and important to both the homeless and the volunteers.

Along with these three field services, Sam is available to talk, assist in paperwork and filing help, will provide time with a computer, phone or photo copy machine, and works on aiding Zimbabwe refugees assistance in finding ways to get home.  He is so busy all the time and is doing the work of what really should be a three person staff.  Thankfully he is supported by an amazing group of volunteers who continue to show their support.  This is the most powerful resource of the organization and that is where I am beginning my project.

My first day unfortunately set me back some.  I came to Johannesburg with an understanding of the situation, which was very intellectual.  What was real and the actual situation could not be annotated until I was smack in the middle of it. Not until last Monday could I have that experience.

My project partner insisted that he come get me in Hyde Park.  This is where my hostel is located and even though it was very far from downtown, Sam insisted I wait for him before going to the office. I have now learned that I do not question these requests.  So, as I waited on the corner of Jan Smuts and North Street, I kept an eye on the cars making sure I didn’t miss him.  Well, I was surprised to see a small African man running and screaming at me from across the street. I had not expected him on foot.  That is when I learned that Sam is not a driver and he had found his way to me on Taxi Bus.  This meant that we would be returning on Taxi Bus.  I was prepared for this after my Saturday excursion.

We gave the appropriate hand signal and got into a taxi.  I was caught off guard when I had to find my respective place all the way in the back.  If I had known we were taking the Taxi Bus, I would have brought the Crisco. I learned this from my previous experience.  Did I mention I was still carrying my coffee?  Stupid American!

We arrived downtown at the base of this large hill.  I quickly drank the rest of my coffee that hadn’t spilled all over me and burnt my hand and welcomed the vertical hike.  At the top of the hill we took a sharp left and went down a hill.  Sam mentioned to keep an eye on this “robot” because it sometimes goes crazy.  I thought, “robot?” and then remembered that South Africans called the stoplights, robots.  I later learned that a Bucky is what small trucks and vans are called.

Once to the our stop, I saw the words, “Methodist House” and Sam began explaining why the front doors are not open any day other than Sunday and bread offerings Monday and Tuesday.  He then hopped over a stream, which I could only think was a broken sewer line because it did not smell pleasant.  We were going to enter through the basement garage but not until I was introduced to the basement garage keeper, Reeves.  With his huge smile wearing a worn out red Tommy Hilfiger beanie cap, he said hello and opened the garage door for us.

We walked through the garage, and into a stairwell that was open to the sky.  One day this stairwell was built to impress and be a space of beautiful passage but now it is a space of broken panes of glass, stained brick, and time lost.  I actually like it this way though because the work that is being done in this space is so great, that it is an example of what astounding work can happen in the worst of circumstances.  There is a beauty to this space with a voice that says, “If you are patient and understanding, I may share my secret with you.”

 

 

 

 

We unlocked the gated door, which revealed a beautiful oak door that reads “Paballo ya Batho.” This was my introduction to our office.  Not even two minutes in the office and Sam already had people coming asking for assistance.  He has no downtime.  Along with people looking for assistance though were visitations from his volunteers asking what he needs help with and what they can do to further assist.  This included Joyce, a kind woman who has the verve to care for everybody and doesn’t take gruff from anybody, Mom G who delivered about 200 blankets before Sam had even asked a blanket search begin, and Big Tree, the most gentle man I had ever met.

Big Tree has a Zulu name that I cannot pronounce.  He stands 5’10”, is about as round as a flag pole, but has the biggest presence of anyone I have ever met.  He is from Zimbabwe where he has left his wife, mother and everyone else he’s loves.  He is a musician and actor but does any manual labor work handed to him to get by.  He is Sam’s right hand man and the bond between the two men is something that I wish I could duplicate for other work environments.  Big Tree said hello to me, gave me a hug and then started my Zulu lessons. “Sanibonani! This is the greeting of my people.”

Sam then announced, “lets go!” and we were off.  I had no clue where we were going but there we were, Sam, me, and Big Tree, setting out on foot to an unknown destination.

We walked past the subway station, and into Park Station, the central hub of transportation for Johannesburg.  We then ventured onto Market Street and made our way through downtown Johannesburg.  It was obvious that I did not belong and everyone knew this.  I will spare the details of this journey but Sam and Big Tree were never more than six inches from either side of me.  This was their doing, not mine.  A week later and I am now much more comfortable downtown making this walk.

When we arrived to the main church where Sam’s boss and other directors work from, I noticed that the church was completely empty.  Every morning, all 3,000 or so people who sleep in the church leaves and goes onto the streets.  At about 5 in the afternoon, they return.  Walking into the church, even though a wide empty abyss, the smell of years of people sleeping in this space wafts quickly and fills your nostrils.  We went up stairs so that Sam could introduce me to everyone.  I laughed a lot in these introductions.  Everyone was so friendly and boisterous and made me feel very at home.

We then went down to the basement to meet the staff of the pre-school.  At this point, I was so overwhelmed and my flight or fight senses were on flight mode.  If I had the opportunity to get on a plane and go home, I would have taken it.  I wanted to cry, vomit, jump, do something more easy; anything that would have relieved the anxiety and guilt I felt.  Then the daycare happened.

The kids were all taking a nap.  The sight of forty tiny humans napping on their mats covered in their little blankets was so calming.  I saw one little boy look at me and I smiled.  I turned away to meet the teachers, who quickly had me laughing hard, and when I turned back around, the little boy had woke up all his friends around them to look at me.  Before I knew it, I was sitting on the floor with these children and communicating with them as best I could.  My day got better after that.

The rest of the day was hazy.  I met more volunteers, handed out loaves of bread and freaked out to my friends Jenna and Mara on Skype.  I was scared and melodramatic.  The week evolved into a tremendous learning experience that I have accepted and welcome with great appreciation.  I am here for a purpose and my gifts are going to aid Paballo ya Batho, and Sam, in moving forward with greater sustainability.  This reminds me why I am a public servant; to give so that others can be self empowered. No matter how selfless it may appear to an outsider, I get so much out of this work.  I am lucky that I find myself here at this particular time. I know that it is my responsibility as the human I want to be.

There is definitely more to come…