3

Slept very agreeably in my well equipped room. Woke up and headed for the pool. It is one of life’s great pleasures to be able to dive into a pool before your eyes have properly opened, the pool itself is typical of this tropical environment – green rather than blue and a few lengths create a Moses like separation of the mass of dead bugs bobbing on the surface. I would not have it any other way.

I realised this morning, after trying to put my finger on it, how the staff here have managed to make me feel unwelcome even though they are always polite, they have a strange way of repeating any small request back to me with slightly accusational tone, ‘Can I have some toast and jam please’ to which I get the response “you want some toast and Jam?” with an intonation of slight surprise and weariness as if I have asked one too many ‘favours’ already today.

The location is splendid, in the morning light I can see it well. Tropical and lush green surrounds the garden with a large hill that dominates the horizon, I have heard talk of monkeys but have not seen any yet. All set to the backdrop of the constant humming and occasional squeaking of the million bugs.

The water is off so no coffee – ouch.

Wouter called to say he can’t make it, bad news… another wasted day. As this news came over the phone, the rain came down like I have rarely seen it before.. sheets of water rather than individual drops. I was determined not to be defeated and with ‘ ‘I’m English I can withstand rain of any kind’ running through my brain I tried to ignore it, eventually even the roof leaked over me and so I returned to my hot room with my soggy newspaper.
As per the norm the rain did not last, however I did notice a sign indoors that told of ‘Bettie’s Heaven’, Bettie being a local woman who has, for the past 25 years taken in and cared for orphans in Nelspruit. Not wishing to waste the day I decided to call a cab and pay a visit.

The every ready Edgar picked me up, a 15 min drive through the centre of town. He was keen to relay to me how ‘I must not walk here… too many ‘tsotsi’ (Gangsters) … they will rob you…”

Edgar had a worryingly accurate and detailed appreciation of exactly how these gangsters would take my bag, and then run away and other gangsters would hold me back so I was unable to give chase, or to paraphrase Edgar: “They will hold you so you cannot have power… you understand?” – I did understand and was grateful for the advice.

Bettie herself was not at home when I arrived, I was told by staff at the old vic (my accommodation) that she has recently had her phone stolen so I was unable to announce my arrival in advance.

So Edgar dropped me at the house and I arranged for him to collect me in 6 or so hours time.

As I entered the gate I saw children in the garden and sitting around the front door many different age ranges from 18 months to 16 or so, some of the older kids automatically understanding why I was there ran in to fetch their older ‘sister’. I was greeted by Sibongsile who was, I came to realise over the day, the person with the most noticeable qualities of leadership and as such was an unofficial number two to Bettie. She was very gracious and invited me straight in to the house, she was in the middle of something and left me with a young girl who’s age I could not determine as she obviously suffered some physical and mental handicap of some kind, she was however quite confident and took no time at all to arrange a tour of the house, introducing me to everyone on the way.

A small boy took my hand without a word, just a nervous smile and stayed within arms reach for the rest of the day. Sibongsile returned and offered to show me out side in the modest garden, they were growing as much food for the house as possible.

There were twenty five children staying at the house, from what the kids told me I gathered that they each have a bunk bed to themselves although they were many beds to a room. A few of the kids were mentally or physically disabled and I wondered if they had been abandoned because of this, I did not ask about anyone’s past as it would have been rude, they all referred to themselves as Bettie’s children in a very literal sense, and I suppose, as most of them have been there since being babies, they very much were.

I offered to help with the washing up or cut the grass, anything I could do, but Sibongsile would have none of it, I think the most important function for visitors was really to simply be company for the kids and I became centre of attention for the rest of the day.

They had a nice way with each other, the slightly older ones kept an eye on the very young, all under the watchful eye of Sibongsile. I sat with her for a long time talking about the history of the place, and trying to understand their challenges and difficulties. I asked in a rather blunt and what must have seemed a rather direct way What they needed?… I couldn’t think of a more diplomatic way to ask, and I suppose I wanted to get an honest answer “what a question” said Sibongsile because of the multitude of things that must have presumably gone through her mind. She mentioned Cleaning products, mops etc… toys and money for food. As she was talking she seemed unhappy with her own responses… the answer was obvious: they needed everything, having been moved into a brick house built by BP to take them out of the tents they were living in.

Food was a major issue, feeding 25 growing kids is no small task, when lunch was served an older lady ‘Auntie’ came out with a pack of 3 large bread rolls and broke them up for the kids to share, this was the only meal I saw them take and It cannot of filled them up at all, they all remained perfectly happy however and there were no complaints. The only source of income for the house were donations, Bettie was in the town for that purpose today.
Toys were sorely missing, most of the kids simply sat in the shade quietly, I got the feeling my presence was exciting enough a reason for them to become a group, but that If I were not there they would exclude the more disabled kids. One boy who was quite seriously physically and mentally unwell was all but excluded and the children seemed to ignore him, he kept himself busy with a stick and piece of rope, he was happy to sit with us when the group became large.

Sibongsile was a member of a female football team and took me across the street to watch a local professional team training, she explained to me how she wanted a house of her own and a car and her own business, simple things that I suppose we all want, I know that she had all the qualities needed for such a life, she was very intelligent and confident, and in another place she could have quite easily achieved such modest aims.

I left the orphanage with a strange sense of unease. Rather than feeling good for the virtuous deed I had done I felt like a sort of day tripping faker, these children needed a long term investment of time and friendship and my small offering of money which seemed to serve only to embarrass Sibongsile played on my mind.

It is heart breaking to see young children so devoid of friendship and love outside of such a small group, the lack of a mature male was something that was also clear as the younger boys there would bombard me with as many questions as hugs.

I took a few photos, aware that I should concentrate on their needs rather than mine. I relinquished my camera to the kids fairly quickly as the older ones sensed the importance of taking care with it and I was happy to let them enjoy using it for the day.