We begin our mornings anywhere between 8 and 10 am, and we are assigned to the following organizations:
Amin at Izlanda Zenkosi
Annie at the Trauma Centre
Dhrusti at SDCEA (“sid-say”)
Jason at We Help Our Children (WHOC)
Katie at the Blue Roof
Megan at Isaiah 54
Michelle at the Family Resource Center (FRC)
Utrophia at the Beehive
Zach at the Blue Roof
For some, it was baptism by fire. For others, the morning transpired as an orientation and a slow introduction to what will be our job for the next eight weeks.
My experience was consistent with this, and while I prefer baptism by fire, I think this worked out better for everyone. I arrived at the police station and was escorted back by some very friendly Officers and Inspectors through the entrance of the station, outside down a brief walkway, and into the Trauma Centre, an organization that supports victims of domestic violence. I was greeted by several friendly women in the office with big smiles, South African “Hellos,” and “Trauma Centre” apparel. They helped me get situated and ready for our first client, who arrived shortly thereafter. This woman has been a client for several years. The issue—her son—has only become more problematic as he has entered and explored his teenage years. Now, sixteen and very obviously addicted to drugs, he has begun to steal from her to support his habit. His mother had declined the suggested course of action when he was 12, refusing to put her son in a juvenile center for poorly behaved boys. Now that he is 16, he is no longer eligible for the center. The stakes have been upped, and any decision she will make in the next few weeks following his arrest (which happened later that morning) will likely to little to keep him safe or rectify the situation.
Sadly, I learned, this situation is common in many households throughout Wentworth and beyond. Many, many people are addicted to alcohol and/or drugs, and these habits lead to other crimes that destroy their relationships with their family, their social well-being, and their life. One woman I work with estimated 99% of all of domestic issues they see stem from drugs and alcohol; I was also informed that since today was government payday (pension, disability, etc), we would not be seeing anyone for about two days, the time it took them to spend the money on drugs and alcohol, and then consume it. Additionally, I was told that while the police have detectives working in a division to alcohol and drugs, the law, its enforcement, and penalties are relatively relaxed on account of the main focus—murders, rapes, theft, etc—taking up the majority of the time and resources.
Our second client was a 13 year-old girl who was caught having sexual relations with a teenage boy last week and then cried “rape.” Unfortunately for all involved, her story changed each time she told it, and three things became apparent: 1) her family was trying to keep the whole thing silent, 2) she was in some state of intoxication at the time, and 3) she doesn’t actually understand what rape is. This was exacerbated by her lack of knowledge and understanding about contraception, consent, STDS, and so forth, despite having been sexually active since grade 6 and drinking for some time. Such situations, which occur not infrequently, make counseling and support nearly impossible, because it is difficult to know what exactly happened and thus how to deal with it.
I spent the rest of the morning learning about the crime and violence in Wentworth. What I heard, especially by way of personal experience, was horrifying. While most of the crime and violence is comparable to that in very urban areas in the US, the South African crimes involve perpetrators and victims who are far younger than would typically be seen in the US. There are children in the equivalent of elementary school and middle school committing crimes they don’t understand are crimes; there are infants and toddlers who are victim to the heinous crimes committed.
We left our NGOs just before 1 pm to meet at the Blue Roof and get into the van to go to the World Cup game. The ride downtown was surprisingly easy and traffic-less. We pulled into a special drop-off area, where we boarded shuttle busses waiting to take us to the stadium. The walk to the shuttle and from the shuttle to the stadium proved to be fascinating, as we were passed by varying levels of fans, most of them pro-Netherlands. Men in orange wigs, orange jumpsuits, and orange face paint passed us, blowing their vuvuzelas the entire way:
We also saw men with windmills on their heads, men with bad wigs, draped in the country’s flag as we made our way into the recreational area outside of the stadium. We took pictures outside of the stadium and with the South African mascot. We then ventured on the Ayoba stage to dance (publicly, on a stage!) in front of many people in an effort to win the special prize. Fortunately, we were joined by three Dutch men who managed, without any apparent difficulty, to swiftly divert the attention away from the Americans. The coveted prize turned out to be face paint (questionable quality) and earplugs (already purchased), but we were too excited to mind. We finally ventured into the stadium, and saw our first view:
We entered the beautiful walk-in side and quickly found our seats; though we were in the upper level, we were situated in the first row there, and so we spent the game at the restraining bar, looking over midfield. Two Dutch men came to hang their flag proudly from the area during the Netherlands National Anthem. The vuvuzelas played proudly after (on account of an announcement specifically refraining them from playing during the anthems) and throughout the remainder of the game, but the noise was not as deafening as we had imagined. Most of us were rooting for the Netherlands, and so we fit right in with the sea of orange that hooted, hollered, and did the wave throughout the game. Needless to say, the outcome was most pleasing, and we walked back out of the stadium and to our combi (cab) very, very happy fans.
