Sept 29, 2006

Simphiwe was in town for a few days for school break and we agreed to meet in town this morning to walk out to Mbotjeni and visit Manthoba, Tigi, and gogo.  It has been so very long since simphiwe and I set out on any given day to make the world a better place and I was pleased, as always, to be in his company.  We met at the store so we could pick up some cornmeal and beans to take to gogo and simphiwe tucked the goods in my pack and put it on his back and we set out.  The walk to Mbotjeni is beautiful.  The way is all down hill from town and you can look out over the expanse of green rolling hills, trees and forests, and Swazi homesteads.  I never tire of it even though the area is very reminiscent of Northern California (or, in some places, even the high desert in southeastern Arizona).  Swaziland is beautiful and it is difficult, sometimes, to grasp the sickness and suffering that is occurring just inside this homestead here, and that one over there, and on the homestead further up the road.  Like a beautiful woman whose cancer overtakes her just underneath her tender skin.  We arrive at Mbotjeni and Tigi sees us before we see him, running to greet us and take us to the homestead.  He grabs Simphiwe’s hand, happy to see him even though it has been some time.  Gogo is where I often see her when the days are nice, lying on a mat outside.  I am relieved I don’t have to see her dragging her cumbersome body across the ground by her elbows to be able to enjoy the sunshine.  Unfortunately, Manthoba is off fetching water for the homestead.  He is likely carrying a jug as large as he is, unless he has managed to scavenge a wheelbarrow somewhere. The river is a ways from the homestead and he is unlikely to be back before we leave.  I ask gogo how Manthoba did in school this year and she chuckles like a pleased little girl, “kahle kakhulu”, really great.  She is worried that there will be no one to help Tigi get into school once I leave.  He is due to start in January.  I assure her that Red Cross is coming to see her soon (they have been coming for a year now) and, if they don’t come, I will make sure schooling for Manthoba and Tigi for next year is taken care of before I go.  I don’t tell her that I, too, am worried what will happen to the three of them when I am no longer able to check on them.  I would like to think their neighbors will help, but it isn’t necessarily so.  And because the boys are just abandoned (to a gogo who can’t even walk) by both parents ( althought I think the father died this year- the mother is still unaccounted for), they don’t qualify for programs like Young Heroes that only cater to double orphans.  Even if they did qualify, gogo couldn’t get to the post office to pick up the money.  Sigh.  I remember the first time Simphiwe and I came here- gogo hadn’t left her bed for months, hadn’t eaten, and was significantly depressed, begging God to take her.  Today she is looking pretty good- the simple little stone and mud hut is the same, her burden no lighter, but she is in good spirits.  And Tigi looks good and well cared for.  Simphiwe and gogo chat in SiSwati for a bit and I am able to pick out more and more of what they are saying, still far short of where I should be.  We take our leave and make the walk back into town.  I am not sure what we talked about or if we talked at all.  It was simply good enough just to be with him again.  We parted in town and he said he would try to get up to see the girls this afternoon.  He is attending a funeral in the morning and heads back to South Africa directly after that.  He says there are too many funerals now, it makes him sad to come home.  He doesn’t even ask after people anymore for fear he will learn they are gone.

Simphiwe was good to his word and showed up at the orphanage in mid-afternoon. The girls adore simphiwe but are always shy to see him or be around him.  He sits in my rondeval for a while, just talking, and then we go outside so he can greet the housemother.  He chats a bit with her and then it is time to go.  He comes back to the rondeval to retrieve a couple books I am sending with him (Hesse’s Sidhartha for one) and I catch him on the step and wrap my arms around him to tell him he is one of my favorite people on the planet.  He gives me that smile that is so uniquely his and is grateful (although it is still awkward for him to be hugged).  The girls gather outside to say farewell and I walk him down the road, long past the point where it would be polite to let him travel on by himself.  At some point I let him go, otherwise I might just go with him back to South Africa.  With Julie gone, and Simphiwe leaving again, I am feeling very alone.  Not friendless but without friends near enough.