Being safe

Carrying this camera around makes me feel very vulnerable. It does not seem implausible to imagine that while I have my eye screwed up to the viewfinder someone can come behind me, knock me over the head and steal my camera. I hate that I feel like this. I want to be excited by capturing special moments that occur in the normal course of the day (like the two women on the mattress in the bus shelter). Instead I have to think about safety. Of course the reality of the situation is that the camera can very easily feed a family for a couple of months (or someone's drug habit).

I love South Africa. We have travelled the world and I am always happy to come home. I love the physical beauty, the spirit of the people, the road we have travelled and the transformation we have been part of. I love all the ordinary people who strive every day to make this a better place for us to live in - the gogo in the township, the projects like Project Playground and the musician who gives his time to teach children in the townships.

Every time I return home, though, the news of crime on the television and in the newspapers feels like a physical onslaught. I think that when I am home I develop a certain immunity which is necessary for survival. And of course an automatic vigilance which makes sure that the car doors are locked or that my bag is slung across my body when I walk out in public, and so on.

Moving away is not the answer. I don't know what is. But I do think we need to make more of an effort to  be part of a community that looks out for each other, that takes back the park or the street. A community where we can call on our neighbours. A community that cares. A community where I can feel safe enough to take a photograph. 

Good Schools

My kids are both at good schools. It took a lot of thought, research and decision-making. We even bought a house based on the fact that there were good schools in the area. Of course, we then chose to send my daughter further afield for high school, but we are still on the doorstep to my son's school and remain quite central.

The woman who has been working for us for a number of years has a son the same age as ours. She herself, did not have the opportunity to get very far in school but is dedicated to giving her children all the opportunities that were denied her. Last year we tried in vain to get him into a high school closer to our home. He then subsequently got accepted at a school in one of the oldest townships in SA.

It is a well-known school and has been around since the 60's. Over the years it has earned recognition for academic as well as sport and cultural achievement. They also teach English and in hindsight, perhaps it is a good transition school for him if we do still want him to come to a school on this side of town.

This morning I was chatting to her and checking up on how he was settling in. I knew that she had been disappointed that he did not get accepted to the schools which were first on her list so I wanted to show her the school's website and reassure her that it was a good school.

She agreed with me and then carried on to explain why she thought it was good. It had nothing to do with the factors I had been looking at, at all. She thought it was good simply because the school was fenced in and the children remained on the school property during break times, thereby being kept safe from harm and out of temptation. Where I was thinking A's and B's she was having to think about his safety during the school day. It reminded me once again how different our perspectives are based on culture, enforced separation and social and economic circumstances. We also take so much for granted once we are in a fortunate place.