I realised that I don't often write about the realities and day-on-day activities of what I do here (mostly because it's pretty much the same all the time and would be incredulously dull) but yesterday something very real happened.
It began a pretty normal, and in fact, wonderful Saturday morning. I was awoken by my boss on our day off at 8.30am (thanks Di) who had panicked about something the night before. Annoyingly the thing she was panicking about was neither necessary nor was it even about me. It was about Jonno. So while Jonno slept serenely across the room, I was awake on my only lie-in day.
However I thought I'd make the most of time alone so headed off to the internet room to finish my tala blog entry and begin writing another piece on my other blog. After a couple of hours there was a build of people on the site, but I didn't think much of it because Pastor Samson often has gatherings of his refugee church on site on a Saturday. About an hour or so later, Jonno walks in and says that Samson has told him that 900 refugees are expected today because they're giving out food.
About 12 midday I head out to find some breakfast / lunch and there is a LOT of people there. And I feel somewhat convicted that I am walking through them all with my nice-ish clothes (they weren't especially but still nicer than theirs), ipod and mobile phone, and having just sat in a comfy room for 3hours on the internet. So I went to find Samson to see if he needed any help. He said he did. So I was like 'oh ok, I'll just go shower and eat something quick then I'll come help'.
I went off to shower thinking that this would be just like the other feeding scheme I do. It would be very simple and everyone would be polite and we'd all clap our hands and sing happy songs etc. etc. Oh how wrong was I.
I wandered back and found Jonno already there. He'd obviously asked Samson to help independantly of me. I was ushered through the crowd of Africans and into the middle section with the mountain of beans and maize. By the time I'd got there Samson had already got 900 people silent to pray, something Jonno says was a sight to see, and seperated them all into their respective nations. It seems relatively civil when I arrived and I set about opening up all the packets and sorting them for the people handing them out. Each person was allowed one bag of beans and one pack of maize. They were supposed to wait for their names to be called. Sounds very organised, no?
I think it took maybe 10 minutes for the first fighting to break out. And then it pretty much repeated every 20mins or so. Unfortunately it is fair to say that it was most the Zimbabweans who were being so disruptive. I was working on the South African line and Jonno the Zimbabweans. I know Jonno on more than one occasion genuinely feared for himself because being surrounded by big, hungry and angry African men is not the best place to be.
One more than one occasion Samson had to stop the food giving to try to get everyone to stop fighting and sort themselves out. Unfortunately this usually came when the people stormed the tables and began to try to steal the food in whatever quantity they could get.
I can't explain to you how it feels to be sat on a large pile of food and surrounded by hundreds of people who are desperate and who don't want to line up and wait their turn. It wasn't so much fear for me - I actually really enjoyed getting involved and stopping fights starting - but rather disbelief and dismay.
There were three things I think that struck me most, and when I say struck, I guess I mean it in the damaging sense.
First, and something Jonno said to me, was the transformation of the news from abstract to reality. Both in the UK and over here there is a lot of talk about what is going on in Zimbabwe and all the refugees. At one point when Jonno and I were sat in the internet room and he was reading on BBC News about the refugee situation in SA. He goes 'I'm just reading about the refugees and I look out the window and there they are'. He was so right.
Second was the xenophobia. If you hadn't known, there is a lot of xenophobia over here at the moment. It's not as bad as it was a few weeks back but its still there.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/7455061.stm
I suppose I neither understood why this would happen nor thought it would ever happen near me. I didn't understand how you could turn on someone just because they are from another country. Especially if they've fled their country for fear of their lives. Once again I was wrong.
Samson had asked me to bring my camera so that I could take photos for him. However this turned out to be a poisoned chalice. Each time the Zimbabweans stormed their food area, the South Africans would cry out and shout anger at them, and these three guys would say to me 'take a photo, take a photo! Look what the Zimbabweans are doing!' They also said 'Zenophobia is going to break out soon'. Thankfully nothing actually did, but I could very much now see how it happens. That article I linked says that a lot of it is due to scare resources and I can very much vouch for that. As the food went down, the anger and tension rose. And as the tension rose, people first looked to blame and fight groups of others i.e. other nationalities, and towards the end they just blame and fight anyone who isn't them. It was pretty depressing really, while at the same time very understandable. Desperation leads to poor judgement in all walks of life, hunger must be one of the worst.
The final thing was just this cavernous contrast between the peace, good fight and love within Samson who was trying to serve and help all these people, and the war, violence and hate that was being handed back by the people gathered. I don't quite know how Samson keeps going when people are trying to cheat and steal whatever they can. It's not that I can criticising the people. I am sure that if I was in that situation i would do precisely the same. And I mean that. I was just completely dismayed by the depths of corruption within the human heart. These people are just like you and me, except that their situations are a million miles away from ours.
I said to Jonno, why is it that when desperation and need sets in, the human heart turns straight to selfishness, and to the point of violence and stealing? Few times before have I more seen the need for a new human heart.
I would however like to include a more positive note and say that I am well aware that there is hope. There was one guy who was there all day, waiting patiently, helping out stop fights, taking things back off people who had stolen and giving it back to us. He constantly encouraged us and prayed, looking to help out wherever. Towards the end he had not actually got any food, but all he said was this, 'It's better to be a beggar than a thief'.
Right at the end there was enough left over from the staffs materials to give him food.
In the Bible the Pslamist prays 'Create in me a clean heart, O God'. Until I can say 'it's better to be a beggar than a thief' in the face of life threatening need, I will sure be praying that prayer over and over.
Sunday, 29 June 2008
Thursday, 26 June 2008
A Tale of Two Citis (well nearly)
Ok so before you jump on the spelling error bandwagon (or the SEB as I like to call it in my freetime), I did not misspell cities but did indeed mean citis aka Citi Golf. This is a fine tale involving a Citi Golf and an Audi Saloon (not sure which kind because the number after the A had fallen off. Classic.) hence the ‘nearly’ title. It happened a few weeks back.
If you’re sitting carefully then I shall begin…(and if you’re standing then gee, sit down because you’re looking like a muppet standing which at a computer AND you’re probably hurting your back. Physical and emotional pain there. Double whammy.)
*note: timings given are inaccurate because I wasn’t looking at my watch much but I promise the facts are correct*
11.07: It was a splendid Saturday morning when Phil set off for a trip to Tala Game Park with his venerable friends Kylie, Izzle, Hannah, Kat, Ru, Naomi, Jules, Jenny, Abby, Ellie-Jo and Caleb (note the male-female ratio. The only other dude was 4. I love you Caleb). So they trundled down the motorway (FYI: called the N3)
11.32: Arrived a short 25mins later. After having quite enough estrogen for one journey, Caleb and I were both out of our respective cars and heading towards the braai (South African for BBQ – I’ll hit you up with some more of those translations another time, they’re comedy) area and rock pool (a pool shaped like a rock, nothing exciting). We soon connected through our testosterone and without saying a word Caleb hid behind a large rock (large meaning taller than mine, it came up to my knees. Role reversal would’ve been tough) while I told the girls I’d lost Caleb. Turns out women don’t find that all that funny. What was funny however was the shock on Hannah’s face when Caleb jumped out. Caleb and I bonded in that moment. Amen.
11.45: People begin to get into the pool shortly followed by screams of agony akin to death by fire. Only this was perceived death by cold. Some South African’s remarked ‘you must be British, no South African would get in there.’ Some pansies did get in with wet suits but by and large that man was correct. I had not planned to go in the pool because I was wearing my contacts and therefore also did not bring a towel. Unfortunately my easily baited instinct took over and I was soon in the pool. It was cold. After about 10mins you got too numb to feel a thing and at that point the experience resembled something close to enjoyable. I think at one point it even touched the line between enjoyable and ‘kill me now’.
12.11: Turns out it’s a bad idea to stand around in cold soaking wet swim shorts and ‘dry in the sun’. Note to self: bring towel.
12:46: Braai time. Great stuff. Meat. Fire. Tongs. Genesis 1.
14:00: Time to take to the game trail. Our intrepid explorers pile in the two cars. Phil, Kat, Izzle, Hannah and Kylie get into the Citi Golf. The other pile into the Audi.
14:06: Eagle-eyed Phil exclaims as he spots the first Springbok. Turns out it was not an antelope-related-animal but rather a bush VERY CLOSELY RESEMBLING ONE.
14:24: Citi Golf begins to struggle on the dirt tracks. Audi cruising.
14:28: We spot a lion king tree. ‘Now we’re in Africa’ remarks someone, they’ll probably go on to fail they’re degree.
14.34: As Citi Golf finds it harder and harder to overcome the tracks that are best described as ‘rural’, the Audi takes a left down a negative incline.
14.36: After two minutes deliberation and peering, Citi Golf travelers elect to part ways with the Audi and take another route. Wisdom.
14.41: Citi Golf travelers fail to see much game. The odd Springbok appears (and actually was an antelope-related-animal this time) but then runs back into the bush. Resulting photos look more like an animal version of ‘Where’s Wally’ than actually game photos. They wonder how the Audi is getting on with the animal hunting.
14.52: Citi Golf gets entirely lost. The map we were given is rubbish and look more like Mr. Messy (from Mr. Men fame) than a device for geographical knowledge transfer. We soon find a small hut and what appears to be a large rangers’ car. Aside from it blocking our path, we delight in maybe finding someone who knows where we are. After a quick realization that none of the girls are going to ask him, Phil climbs out of the ride and goes to find him.
14.56: Phil makes a glorious return clutching his map in his right paw. He feels he now knows how Prime Minister Chamberlain felt when he stepped off that plane with the piece of paper saying Hitler wouldn’t start a war.
14.57: Armed with the map that now included expert opinion on where all the big animals were and our present location. The Citi Golf sets off at a pathetic pace to hunt the game.
15.03: En route, the Citi Golf team wonders how many animals the Audi has found in the time they were lost.
15.23: Animals ahoy! Up ahead the Citi Golf spies a herd of Buffalo. Expertly Phil feels like David Attenborough himself as he spots what he thinks is a Giraffe up in the hills. However after realizing that Giraffes don’t walk like that nor does his ‘Giraffe’ have a long neck (thanks Hannah for that info) they realize it’s actually just a Springbok.
15.24: Oh how the mockers are mocked. Phil’s erroneous but beady eyed observation leads Kat to notice a large slowing moving grey object to the right of the ‘Giraffe. Said large slowing moving grey object to the right of the ‘Giraffe turns out to be none other than a Rhino, and its child.
15.25: Kat lives up to her name as she begins to have kittens over seeing the Rhino. ‘I’ve seen the big five’ she chants mercilessly as if her entry to heaven depended on it. What Kat was referring to is the so called ‘Big Five’ animals in Africa; the Elephant, the Leopard, the Buffalo, the Lion and the Rhino. In Kenya Kat had seen the other four. It’s almost hard to believe the fifth was now not running away at its top speed of 60mph at the shrieking Kat was now exuding.
15.26: I previously have talked about how much a like the word juxtaposition. I get to use it again here. A large metaphorical brick with JUXTAPOSITION hits me in the kidneys. Ouch. A phonecall from the Audi. Turns out that they had gotten stuck on the road they had turned down, the same road we had declined. They had been stuck for a while so had called out the emergency park guys. Naomi, who rang me, sounded somewhat panicky. In a mix of confidence in her and ignorance of the true severity of the situation, I told her it would be fine and she could do whatever was required to cope with the situation.
15.27: Upon hanging up, I attempted to inform the guys of the Audi’s predicament and their request for prayer. It’s safe to say my message was lost in light of the Buffalo and Rhinos.
15.32: We pull up towards the Buffalo and stop. Many photos are taken. Buffalo comes with 2m of my open door window. Man was it ugly. I would not marry one of those. It was however quite humbling to know it could take me even if I formed a tag team with a locked Citi Golf door.
15.37: We edge towards the Rhino who was, along with its baby, coming closer to the road. Kat is suddenly a lot quieter as we come within 10m of the beast (I mean that in a respectful way. Kind of like how Duncan Bourne is a beast among men). I feel very safe in my Citi Golf. Only later would I found out that only last week that Rhino ran at and turned over a Citi Golf. Turns out they can get to 60mph in just 6 strides. Good job I didn’t know that really.
15.45: I check on the Audi. The emergency people had just arrived. Audi team feeling a lot safer.
15.57: Citi Golf team is on the trail of the actual Giraffes. Armed with the whole long neck info, Phil feels a lot more confident of finding them.
16.06: Phil checks on the Audi. The sun is beginning to set and the emergency guys can’t get the Audi out. Tension rises.
16.10: Citi team finds a wedding. Phil thinks he sees a giraffes. Hannah says that just a dude with a long neck. Phil learns more.
16.13: Kylie spots a hidden path that might lead to the giraffe area. The adventurers trek on.
16.24: Citi team are a bit too full of animal excitement and take a few roads they shouldn’t have. Only God knows how we got up and down some of those hills.
16.28: Wild boar frolic in the long grass. Pumba was a lot cooler. No giraffe.
16.35: Update from Audi team. Car still stuck. Trying new ways of getting it out. Darkness on its way.
16.42: Citi team see Giraffe! Five of them! They are about 20m away in the trees eating leaves. Quality animals. The pictures were right, if they stood with legs apart all you’d need is a good quality blanket and you’d have a great tent. Bear Gryllis and Ray Mears combined couldn’t think of this stuff.
16.46: Citi Golf in trouble. We pick a bad path to go down. A large rock smacks against the underbelly of the car. Oops.
16.48: It’s not looking good as the path gets worse and worse. In comedy fashion some fat ranger-tourist-4x4-carrier-thing comes the other way. He tells us not to go down there. So we do a genius three point turn in the middle of a bush. In absolute comedy, the tourists in the 4x4 monster chuckle and take photos of us. I kid you not.
16.54: Audi update. Audi still not out. Sunset upon us. As the Citi team take amazing photos of the sunset, the Audi team see are still pretty much the same place as the two cars parted ways some two hours ago.
17.01: Citi team head back to the entry gate expecting the Audi to be out soon. They spot some Zebras on the way back, however the Zebras soon run away so if you want any photos of a Zebras butt give me a shout.
17.10: Citi arrives back at base. Rings Audi. Audi is still not out and they’ve called out another car, this time a bigger Land Cruiser. Dusk has fallen. Tension is high. Phil stands out of the car in the hope that the Land Cruiser rides past and he can get a lift to be with the others. Sadly upon seeing headlights it is just the same 4x4 thing they saw earlier. This time the tourists laugh at the Audi situation. This time it was not funny.
17.11: The Citi team re-enter the park to park by the Hippo pond.
17.23: Hippo watching is not so much fun. They tend to sit below the surface a lot. Not especially photographable.
17.24: Audi still not out but big car has arrived. Darkness now envelopes.
17.30: Citi team wait by the gate. Blankets come out of boot to keep warm. Audi team finding things hard again. Much prayer.
17.31: A quality game of ‘one day I went to the beach and brought an apple, a ball, a c…’ ensues in the Citi. Also we ask to use the gate man’s toilet and we find he is drunk. Confidence inspiring. And then Hannah falls into a pothole on the way back from toilet and can’t walk her ankle.
17.44: Audi team report that they are out and on their way back. Amazingly the Audi is drivable and largely unscathed. They arrive back at base to much jubilation and huggage. They tell us what actually happened.
The Audi had taken a path with took a very steep downward and angular turn. The everyone but the driver got out. The car began to slip down the hill. Thankfully it did not lose all control. The guys who got out looked on in horror. The Audi then got totally stuck in a large hole later on could not get any grip. When the emergency guys arrived Jenny asked ‘I bet a lot of people get stuck here’. The man simply replied, ‘no, people die here.’ Turns out that four rangers (that’s people in 4x4s who know the park) had died down that path, known as Devil’s Neck, by losing control and flipping their cars down it. A number of tourists have also died and been injured.
The guys could not explain how their loaded Audi Saloon survived that road and nor could the rangers. Call it luck, call it providence, call it what you want. It was outrageously improbable to have no damage to either the people or the car.
Thursday, 5 June 2008
Ambitious Development
Hi team,
How are you all? I don't really know why I'm asking that but it seemed like a good idea at the time. 'The time' being 3 seconds ago. People often say that communication is a two-way process, those people didn't account for travel blogs. Idiots.
Anyways, it's been about 11 days since I last wrote to you fine people and it would be very dramatic to say that it's felt like either 11 minutes or 11 months but I'll be honest. It feels like 11 days ago. Time is a funny thing. Deja vu.
So what have I been up to? Well quite a bit actually. I said before that my boss in admin had been away so not much happened here (as if anything ever happens in admin. Admin is just a synonym for steady as she goes. I prefer 'admin' as a phrase because whenever I say 'steady as she goes' I feel like I should have an eye patch and say 'Arrrrr' after it) however the school was all systems go. We had a special founder's assembly at the school because Pastor Jabu (the head honcho of Gateway) felt very strongly that we needed to be remembering our founding fathers at the present time. So they had a set of awards made and invited a lot of old principals and teachers along and honoured them. It was a very impacting time simply because although we 'knew' the school had begun with nothing, when we saw the tears of happiness in some of the original teachers' eyes, it was only then we truly knew. I will get some photos of the school in due course, either on this or on facebook, but suffice to say it's very impressive considering it came from nothing and has had no major financial backing. Some people call that good work. Others call it God work.
You see, crazy ass stuff isn't that crazy here. In the last few weeks the following three things have happened:
1. Mama Dorah's Comrades Ticket. This thing is entirely non-understandable and I still don't know what happened and what the outcome is going to be. Anyways, there is this Zulu lady who lives on site with us called Mama Dorah (all Zulu ladies of ripe age are called Mama) and every year she runs the Comrades Marathon. However 'marathon' is a deceptive term. This is no London marathon. This is a double marathon. 50 miles. Between Durban and Pietermaritzburg. It's insane. And of course during the day it will likely hit 25degrees here and clear skies aka hot weather for running. I suspect you are imagining Mama Dorah as a slim twenty something. Nope. She's between over 40, pretty short and pretty wide. Anyways, Comrades is her life. And last week she got a call from the Comrades people saying they didn't have her qualification details. Oh dear. I've never seen her not smile until now. She was proper devastated. Like seriously, you can tell from other people's faces how upset someone truly is. She was upset. So Lorne, another lady who works in admin, asked Jonno and to investigate and so we did. I personally spoke to her club manager to told me she had run the qualifying race but not in the qualifying time. I asked if there was anything we could do. He said no. I put the phone down. Not good. I told Lorne and she told Dorah. Dorah was evenmore devastated than before. There was genuinely an awful mood over the admin block that afternoon.
Cut to two days later. Mama Dorah comes towards me waving some post and grinning. I assume it's some amazing mail for me from my amazing friends (hint hint). She showed it me and I didn't have a clue what it was. Someone with more braincells than me pointed out that it was her details for her entry to the Comrades Marathon; start time, jersey number, starting place, the works. Makes no sense at all.
2. School fundraising. I said already about this assembly that the school did. Anyways they also mentioned that they are looking to raise R100,000 (about 6 thousand pounds) for a sports field for the kids but didn't actually ask for it. The assembly was about honouring those who had built the place. But by the end of the assembly the school had two thirds of it, from only two sources. One was a R50,000 donation. That's insane. That's a LOT of money in this country. Much more than the 3000pounds it equates to.
3. The Community Care House. This one is particularly crazy. Basically a project that use to be under the Gateway ownership is going solo because it's gotten so big, and they need to move buildings. So these two guys went out to look, seperately and unbeknowns to each other, and ended up at the same house at the same time. But when they spoke to the lady selling the house, she said there were already two bids in above and beyond what these guys could offer. However she then asked what is was for and they said a church-based care project. She then testified that that morning she had felt God saying it would be a good day and she sold it to the two guys then and there for way under the bids already lodged. It's just non-sensical this stuff.
This place continues to amaze me. I have just finished this fundraising course my boss in admin was running and it's been a massive eye opener. This place, although very much Christian-centred, isn't a poverty-pleading and poorly thought out venture. This project has so much fundraising going on as such a high standard. We have a UK trust that gathers UK donations and we call it over in lumps so to avoid international charges, we have a crafts business that sells in New York and Europe to generate income, and are about to launch a massive tourism initiative that will turn our site, while we still work in it, into a tourist location. From that we are already on a publicised 'freedom route' which includes attractions of both Nelson Mandela and Ghandi (the latter being rumoured to have stayed in our very prison block). They may be Christian here and focused on aid and community development but we certainly do things to a very high standard of work!
Interestingly I asked Pastor Jabu (the head man) about the relationship between trusting God in and for all things, often a nice Christian catch phrase and excuse for laziness, and working hard at the practicalities of, say, fundraising. He told me that we write proposals for funding as if God doesn't exist and then send them off as if we didn't make any effort! He went a bit further and cited an example of Jesus back in the day. In the classic Jesus turning water into wine incident, Jabu said that Jesus didn't do it all himself. He asked the people to fill the jars with water, then Jesus did his bit i.e. we do what Jesus asks and then he (may or may not) do his bit. It's a very interesting balance to me, but I do beleive both in good quality hard work, and an ultimate trust in God and his promises. I plan to ask many more people the same question before I leave here!
In other news, I have just finished writing a newsletter for Project Gateway. It was a good learning experience for me. I worked out that in a month, we impact, through all our projects, over 17,000 people. That's 200,000ish a year, and nearly 2million since we began in 1992ish. And that's not including the 2million fed in a feeding programme that ended a few years back.
4million people in 15 years. And this place isn't done yet. It's growing and becoming self-sustaining (we hope!). This is no small fry. This is ambitious work. Ambitious work in developing the community to not just comfort the poor, but to develop people and communities and remove poverty altogether in Pietermaritzburg. This place is so me.
p.s. (and in saying this I am breaking my cardinal rule of writing i.e. when you've built a rhetoric, don't ruin it by changing tone. Oh well. My rule breaking will be very ironic when you read what I'm about to write) anyone who reads my blogs can probably see I love to write and people say I am good at it. About five years ago my dream job became a speechwriter (thank you Sam Seaborn, Toby Ziegler and Aaron Sorkin) and I have grown in my love for writing ever since. Today I finished writing that newsletter I mentioned and Pastor Jabu (the head of this place, you should know that by now) was so impressed that he's asked me to be his personal writer for all this letters and memos and important messages. I can't tell you how excited I am.
How are you all? I don't really know why I'm asking that but it seemed like a good idea at the time. 'The time' being 3 seconds ago. People often say that communication is a two-way process, those people didn't account for travel blogs. Idiots.
Anyways, it's been about 11 days since I last wrote to you fine people and it would be very dramatic to say that it's felt like either 11 minutes or 11 months but I'll be honest. It feels like 11 days ago. Time is a funny thing. Deja vu.
So what have I been up to? Well quite a bit actually. I said before that my boss in admin had been away so not much happened here (as if anything ever happens in admin. Admin is just a synonym for steady as she goes. I prefer 'admin' as a phrase because whenever I say 'steady as she goes' I feel like I should have an eye patch and say 'Arrrrr' after it) however the school was all systems go. We had a special founder's assembly at the school because Pastor Jabu (the head honcho of Gateway) felt very strongly that we needed to be remembering our founding fathers at the present time. So they had a set of awards made and invited a lot of old principals and teachers along and honoured them. It was a very impacting time simply because although we 'knew' the school had begun with nothing, when we saw the tears of happiness in some of the original teachers' eyes, it was only then we truly knew. I will get some photos of the school in due course, either on this or on facebook, but suffice to say it's very impressive considering it came from nothing and has had no major financial backing. Some people call that good work. Others call it God work.
You see, crazy ass stuff isn't that crazy here. In the last few weeks the following three things have happened:
1. Mama Dorah's Comrades Ticket. This thing is entirely non-understandable and I still don't know what happened and what the outcome is going to be. Anyways, there is this Zulu lady who lives on site with us called Mama Dorah (all Zulu ladies of ripe age are called Mama) and every year she runs the Comrades Marathon. However 'marathon' is a deceptive term. This is no London marathon. This is a double marathon. 50 miles. Between Durban and Pietermaritzburg. It's insane. And of course during the day it will likely hit 25degrees here and clear skies aka hot weather for running. I suspect you are imagining Mama Dorah as a slim twenty something. Nope. She's between over 40, pretty short and pretty wide. Anyways, Comrades is her life. And last week she got a call from the Comrades people saying they didn't have her qualification details. Oh dear. I've never seen her not smile until now. She was proper devastated. Like seriously, you can tell from other people's faces how upset someone truly is. She was upset. So Lorne, another lady who works in admin, asked Jonno and to investigate and so we did. I personally spoke to her club manager to told me she had run the qualifying race but not in the qualifying time. I asked if there was anything we could do. He said no. I put the phone down. Not good. I told Lorne and she told Dorah. Dorah was evenmore devastated than before. There was genuinely an awful mood over the admin block that afternoon.
Cut to two days later. Mama Dorah comes towards me waving some post and grinning. I assume it's some amazing mail for me from my amazing friends (hint hint). She showed it me and I didn't have a clue what it was. Someone with more braincells than me pointed out that it was her details for her entry to the Comrades Marathon; start time, jersey number, starting place, the works. Makes no sense at all.
2. School fundraising. I said already about this assembly that the school did. Anyways they also mentioned that they are looking to raise R100,000 (about 6 thousand pounds) for a sports field for the kids but didn't actually ask for it. The assembly was about honouring those who had built the place. But by the end of the assembly the school had two thirds of it, from only two sources. One was a R50,000 donation. That's insane. That's a LOT of money in this country. Much more than the 3000pounds it equates to.
3. The Community Care House. This one is particularly crazy. Basically a project that use to be under the Gateway ownership is going solo because it's gotten so big, and they need to move buildings. So these two guys went out to look, seperately and unbeknowns to each other, and ended up at the same house at the same time. But when they spoke to the lady selling the house, she said there were already two bids in above and beyond what these guys could offer. However she then asked what is was for and they said a church-based care project. She then testified that that morning she had felt God saying it would be a good day and she sold it to the two guys then and there for way under the bids already lodged. It's just non-sensical this stuff.
This place continues to amaze me. I have just finished this fundraising course my boss in admin was running and it's been a massive eye opener. This place, although very much Christian-centred, isn't a poverty-pleading and poorly thought out venture. This project has so much fundraising going on as such a high standard. We have a UK trust that gathers UK donations and we call it over in lumps so to avoid international charges, we have a crafts business that sells in New York and Europe to generate income, and are about to launch a massive tourism initiative that will turn our site, while we still work in it, into a tourist location. From that we are already on a publicised 'freedom route' which includes attractions of both Nelson Mandela and Ghandi (the latter being rumoured to have stayed in our very prison block). They may be Christian here and focused on aid and community development but we certainly do things to a very high standard of work!
Interestingly I asked Pastor Jabu (the head man) about the relationship between trusting God in and for all things, often a nice Christian catch phrase and excuse for laziness, and working hard at the practicalities of, say, fundraising. He told me that we write proposals for funding as if God doesn't exist and then send them off as if we didn't make any effort! He went a bit further and cited an example of Jesus back in the day. In the classic Jesus turning water into wine incident, Jabu said that Jesus didn't do it all himself. He asked the people to fill the jars with water, then Jesus did his bit i.e. we do what Jesus asks and then he (may or may not) do his bit. It's a very interesting balance to me, but I do beleive both in good quality hard work, and an ultimate trust in God and his promises. I plan to ask many more people the same question before I leave here!
In other news, I have just finished writing a newsletter for Project Gateway. It was a good learning experience for me. I worked out that in a month, we impact, through all our projects, over 17,000 people. That's 200,000ish a year, and nearly 2million since we began in 1992ish. And that's not including the 2million fed in a feeding programme that ended a few years back.
4million people in 15 years. And this place isn't done yet. It's growing and becoming self-sustaining (we hope!). This is no small fry. This is ambitious work. Ambitious work in developing the community to not just comfort the poor, but to develop people and communities and remove poverty altogether in Pietermaritzburg. This place is so me.
p.s. (and in saying this I am breaking my cardinal rule of writing i.e. when you've built a rhetoric, don't ruin it by changing tone. Oh well. My rule breaking will be very ironic when you read what I'm about to write) anyone who reads my blogs can probably see I love to write and people say I am good at it. About five years ago my dream job became a speechwriter (thank you Sam Seaborn, Toby Ziegler and Aaron Sorkin) and I have grown in my love for writing ever since. Today I finished writing that newsletter I mentioned and Pastor Jabu (the head of this place, you should know that by now) was so impressed that he's asked me to be his personal writer for all this letters and memos and important messages. I can't tell you how excited I am.
Sunday, 25 May 2008
Frustration, the child jury system and 100m to fall
It’s been a while since I last updated this shindig so apologies for that but at the same time I don’t feel like much time has passed. Time is a funny thing. Not funny haha, but funny as in ‘it confuses me’. I wonder why we have come to use the word ‘funny’ to describe stuff that confuses us. Last time I checked confusion was pretty annoying. Anyways.
What have I been up to in the last two weeks or so? Well quite a lot now I think about it. Work-wise things are ticking over. My boss Di went away to
When we came here a lot of people told us how great it is to have volunteer teams because we were so much more skilled through the UK education system and such like and we could do so much, but so far I think everyone feels like we’re doing bits and pieces, and a lot of it is proactive on our parts. African working life is very much slower than Western life which is nice in some ways, but more frustrating in others. I guess I’m used to the fast paced office style I worked in at the Met Police and that sort of environment brings the best out of me efficiency-wise. It’s hard when you are given a work style that you know is not making you be the best you can. When you know you’re only somewhere for a limited time yet can’t get out of 3rd gear. I think I’m still very much in that Western thinking of things things things. I mentioned before that we’re told it’s people people people here, and I am aware that we are all a massive encouragement to those around us. We get a lot of thanks and praise for the work we do, but if anything that makes me feel worse because I know I’m not working to my full capacity. So yeh, it’s fair to say work is frustrating at times. I hope it will pick up and I trust it’s heading that way as we get into it more but it’d be no fun if I didn’t talk about the journey would it?
Other work is much more fun though. P.E. is going from strength to strength, indeed last Thursday Jonno and I managed to see a record broken in our Grade 2 class. Unfortunately it was a record for most sets of tears. I think we had 8 sets, and two sets of blood, and I had to send to kids to the side to sit out for kicking other kids. I would quickly like to point out that neither me nor Jonno were the cause of any tears (and for that matter I do have my CRB so don’t go calling no police on my ass) but instead we had a variety of pushing, kicking, punching, falling over and more pushing that caused the incidents. On the plus side, kids would save a lot of money in court cases. I think if our kids went to court it’d go a bit like this:
Prosecution Attorney (PA): ‘I call the defendant to the stand’
Kid 1 walks to stand, crying, snotty nose, and probably falls over again on the way and cries some more
PA: ‘Please tell the court what happened’
Kid 1: (in a quiet voice while looking at the floor) ‘he pushed me’
PA: ‘Small child, is the child who pushed you in court today?’
Kid 1: (nods)
PA: ‘Please point out to the jury who pushed you’
Kid 1: (looks confused)
PA: ‘go on, tell the friendly jury who pushed you’
Kid 1: (points to Kid 2. Audible shock sound arises from likely packed courtroom*)
PA: No more your honour. I would now like to call Kid 2 to the stand.
Kid 2 walks up sheepishly.
PA: Did you or did you push Kid 1?
Kid 2: ‘I said sorr-’
PA: ‘ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!’
Defense Attorney: ‘Objection your honour. Clear intimidation of the witness’
Judge: ‘Sustained’
PA: ‘Sorry your honour. Kid 2, did you or did you not push Kid 1?’
Kid 2: ‘Yes’
PA: ‘I rest my case’
Judge: ‘Well in that case I find the defendant guilty. Would the defendant please go and stand in the corner for 5mins?’
Kid 2: ‘Ok’ and walks off.
Outside the courtroom, associated press gather around the defendant, Kid 2.
Press: ‘Will you be appealing the decision?’
Kid 2: ‘No.’
(* Can I just say, I so don’t understand it when this actually happens in court. Surely everyone in the court realizes that the defendant is the one who is being taken to court for the crime so why is it a shock when he or she is pointed at??? It’s not like it’s a flippin’ murder mystery court room party! Now if the person pointed to the judge, THAT’D be funny…funny haha this time)
Point is that children are amazing at just admitting they’ve done wrong and accepting their consequence! It’s great! Makes it a lot easier! Interestingly we had a very unfortunate and horrible incident with a gentleman on site last week which led to him being asked to leave his temporary accommodation on site. On that occasion he most definitely did not admit to doing any wrong or happily accept his consequence. I am going to choose not to expand on that event for sensitivity reasons, but nonetheless clearly we teach kids morality well and then something goes wrong.
We also did an assembly last week which was pure comedy through and through. We were given the title of Peace and free reign to plan a 20minute assembly. We’d been told 3 weeks ago but still by the night before we’d barely sorted any of it! Mental note: seven people do not an effective planning committee make. So we wrote this drama which was good in principle and awful in execution. It involved five of us resolving various disagreements through methods that would oh-so-handily spell out the word PEACE later on in the assembly. It was comedy writing it but when we practiced it in the car park (can I just say, South African’s apparently have no respect whatsoever between cars and pedestrians in either direction. When we were practicing our drama in the car park, this guy literally just drove into us and didn’t even flinch. Then today we were leaving to go food shopping and there was a bunch of people standing in the car park but none of them moved in the slightest when we tried to get out. Even during the 13th phase of our 17 point turn they just stood there and stared at us, standing slap bang in the way, and then two guys just walked straight past the back of the car when we were reversing, then when we finally made a space to get out, this girl moves out wider and was in the way again! Such a joke! End of rant.) this girl shouts ‘you doing assembly tomorrow? Well good luck, you’re gonna need it’ Excellent. That is precisely what you want to hear on the eve of performing to 247 kids. Anyways, we shambled (I just made that word up but it seems to fit nicely) it together and went to bed feeling rather embarrassed. However in the morning we totally nailed it and everyone loved it! It was hilarious and we have a video of all the kids singing ‘Allelu Allelujah’ ridiculously loudly.
Ok this is getting long and far too factual for my liking so I’ll end with a deep insight into life. This last weekend we went abseiling down a 100m (yes metres, not foot) cliff face next to a waterfall. It was amazing! I wasn’t scared before I began because I’m pretty gung ho these days (hence the running into wall incident), but when I first had feet on the cliff face and 100m drop below me…oh my gosh. I’ve never been so petrified in my life! It took all the courage in my entire body to finally totally lean back on the harness and totally trust the ropes to hold me...but when I did it was the best feeling in the world! I was literally horizontal standing with my bare feet on a cliff with some 90metres of sheer drop below me. I so enjoyed the rest of the time, it was amazing! That night during devotion I couldn’t get that image out of my head. I saw a big parallel with my life and my faith in Jesus. Since I’ve got here and in life generally I’ve never been very good at trusting in Jesus fully. Believing in, yes, living for, yes, but trusting in? Heck no. But as I thought that the best time I had abseiling was when I trusted the guys at the top and the cement foundations (stuff I could not actually see) and just enjoyed using my legs and arms to control my movement, I couldn’t not see the parallel with Jesus. If I can ever fully let go and trust that somewhere Jesus has my back, maybe then I can fully use my legs and arms to walk this life and get the most out of it.
Monday, 12 May 2008
On not wanting to be the spaceman
So we’ve finished our first week of work now and embarking on the second so I’ll fill you in, as promised, on some more details of what I’ll be doing for the next 105 days. My somewhat OCD side compelled me to create myself an all-singing all-dancing thoroughly beautiful and altogether stupendous timetable document. However Abby soon helpfully pointed out that it’s hugely unlikely that any week I ever have here will even resemble my timetable due to the somewhat relaxed planning and timekeeping that is lived out here. So you can add ‘largely pointless’ to my little timetable soliloquy. At any rate, here’s what is included in my utopian week:
0800 – 1600 ‘
Tuesday
0800 – 1000 ‘
1000 – 1130 DMPR Meeting
1130 – 1230 Grade 3 P.E. Lesson
1300 – 1330 Lunch
1400 – 1430 Grade 1M P.E. Lesson
1430 – 1600 ‘
1830 – 2200 Cell group
Wednesday
0800 – 1600 Admin work
Thursday
0800 – 0930 ‘
0930 – 1030 DMPR Meeting
1030 – 1130 Grade 1Z P.E. Lesson
1130 – 1230 Grade 2 P.E. Lesson
1230 – 1300 Lunch
1300 – 1400 Soccer coaching
1400 – 1600 ‘
Friday
0800 – 0900 Chapel
0900 – 1600 Admin
Glossary of terms
(*I make no claim that what I end up doing will even resemble that timetable. This is
I have to say though that I did not expect to be doing what I am doing. A lot of my time will be spent in front of this computer typing reports and being the organizational oil that reduces the friction in the Gateway project engine (I had to try really hard not to use the word lubricant there). I work to a lady called Di who is a fundraising giant. She’s been doing it for 27 years and I’ve already been on one of her fundraising courses. Let’s just say she knows her stuff. Although frankly after 27 years you’d be concerned if she didn’t. It would be like Phil Neville being a footballer for his whole life and still deciding to foul a Romanian defender in the box during Euro 2000 and giving away a penalty…oh.
Anyways, like I said I didn’t think I’d be based in an area where the most dirty my hands will get is cleaning the mouse ball and the occasional scratch of my hair when I get bored. Having said that I have never forgotten a conversation I had with a friend called Rob probably about 4 years ago now. I’m not sure how it began but it ended something like this:
Phil: This
Rob: I so agree. I think we should just forget all this University thing and just go be somewhere where we’re making a real help.
Phil: Well actually, maybe we’re being really short sighted about this.
Rob: How so oh wise one?* (*dramatization: some detail may not have happened)
Phil: Well when you think about it, we’re probably in the top 0.1% of educated people in the world, if not higher. So who are we to throw away that privilege and go out to
Now I’ve never been called prophetic, pathetic yes, prophetic no, but looks like my conversation with Rob may have come true. I am indeed in
Back in the 80s I imagine a lot of kids grew up wanting to be a spaceman. Kids saw humans reach into space and try to touch the stars. One day they said they too would feel moon dust under their boots and plant the national flag into the surface, viewed by millions on TV back on Earth. I wonder how many grew up saying ‘I want to be the guy who checks the fuel in the shuttle before it takes off’, or ‘I want to learn all about the physics of space travel so I can design the flight path of the first flight to mars’. I would hazard a guess, and with fair reason, that there weren’t many. I am however proud to say that at the young kiddie age of 23 I can stand and grin and say ‘when I grow up I don’t want to be the spaceman’.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Juxtaposition is a good word
So it turns out that blog posting resembles the old bus cliché. You sit around waiting for something interesting to update people on and then two things come along at once. However aside from that common ground I should point out that blog posting has nothing else in common with buses so don’t try to get on one to get you to work. You will be fired.
As I have already stated juxtaposition is a good word. I remarked to Jonno just this week that I was pleased to have written juxtaposed in my journal. He replied that he was pleased with my word usage. It was a bonding moment for us both. The reason I wrote juxtaposed in my journal was in light of the daily work schedule it looks like I will be doing, and specifically the day I had on Tuesday (incidentally, the reason I like the word juxtaposition is far to complex and intellectually far reaching to even try to write down).
The first half of the day we went into the rural areas outside the city we’re in, Pietermaritzburg, and visited a crèche that Gateway supports. This was the first time we had really gone outside of the main city and into the communities and for the first time we saw the classic ‘Africa’. That is, dusty roads, mud houses, random animals wandering around and a lot of greenery. To be honest, the place we went wasn’t actually especially poor because Gateway had worked in the crèche for a number of years so it had toys and a garden and a toilet. We’re told that most crèches, like one we’re going to on Friday, likely won’t have lights or carpet, let alone any water, clothes, toys or windows. So I think that while this was something we all enjoyed seeing, it wasn’t the full on smack of true poverty. But at the same time it was a great chance to see the results of working here at Gateway.
While we were there we went for a classic stereotypical gender split. The girls headed inside to bring the colouring-in stuff we brought for the kids, while Jonno and I headed into the garden to plant the vegetables we had brought. As much as I’d have enjoyed playing with the kids, I much preferred being outside and getting my hands dirty (on the most literal level there is, the ‘fertilizer’ here isn’t the chemical form), and being able to look across the amazing view at all the little houses. It was hugely impressive to think that each of them had been hand-built but the Zulus who now lived there.
Equally impressive was the garden we worked in. Compared to most gardens and allotments I’ve seen in the UK, it was so well kept, with vegetables growing most places. And all that from the labour of one woman who ran the crèche. It was very inspiring. The worst part is when she was so thankful to us when we’d finished planting all our plants. It felt like a mother being genuinely and humbly grateful to the kid who came and put the cherry on top of her cake. Whilst it was just a nice thing for us to take a photo of us and the newly homed plants, part of me was thinking ‘what the hell are we doing commemorating our work?’
Oh and here’s a new lesson I learnt. Turns out it’s a bad idea to garden in the midday heat in Africa when you have flu. Jonno and I found out that apparently it’s quite conducive to feinting (ok so before you go mad at me in your head, I wasn’t that ill – Jonno was mind you – and we did get the girls in to help us finish off. At no point did we actually feint, I just had to stabilize a few times…).
So after that morning, which was one of the highlights of my time so far I think, we headed back to Gateway. Then came to moment of juxtaposition. If this were a film script I’d now write something like:
Just to clear up I’ve never read a film script so haven’t got the faintest whether that would actually appear in it.
So yeh, we came back to Gateway about 12.30pm and straight into 3 hours of meetings. Nice. Jonno and I are working centrally with some of our time in the department known as ‘Donor Marketing and Public Relations’, helpfully shortened to DMPR, and subtitled the ‘Try to find as much money as possible’ department. Jonno and I both felt we had skills to offer in this area so we walked into what is already looking like somewhat of a poison chalice. More on that in the blog entry after this one…
The first meeting was about…well to be honest I’ve not got a clue…thing about meetings is that unless you know what’s going on in them, it’s very hard to stay attentive despite best efforts. I’ve been in five hour meetings at the Met Police but they were fine, but this was only two hours yet I lost it after 20 mins. I imagine it is a lot like losing a yellow taxi in New York. Once you’ve taken you eye off the prize, you haven’t got an ice cube’s chance in hell of finding it again (ice cube’s chance in hell, I like that, I just wrote it now. I’m pretty good.)
Also I was more concerned about Jonno being semi-conscious next to me. He had flu big time and had done not much to stop working over the last two days, I had just caught it off him so I was on my way down, but at least I planned to halt my decline. AFTER the working day was over of course.
Anyways, as I sat in the meeting thinking about anything other than the content of said meeting, aside from the odd ‘oh Jonno and Phil can do that’ from my new boss Di, it very much struck me how crazy it was that this morning I was digging a garden for a crèche of orphaned kids, and now I was sat in a meeting about some very administrative and strategic issues.
There’s a joke about David Beckham, well actually it’s a old joke and someone’s applied it to David Beckham because they’re not clever enough to think of an original joke so they pick an easy target (I am unashamedly big fan of Mr. Beckham both for the footballer he is and the man, husband and father he genuinely appears to be). Anyways the joke goes like this:
‘David Beckham walks into training one day and one of his team mates says ‘oh hi David, look at this new flask I bought’, ‘oh what is it?’ replies David. ‘It’s called Thermos flask’ replies his team mate ‘it keeps hot things hot, and cold things cold’. ‘Wow that’s amazing’ gleams David, ‘I’m going to buy one of them myself after training today’. So the next day David comes in with his brand new Thermos flask. He goes up to one of his other team mates and goes ‘hey, look at this new flask I’ve got, it’s called a Thermos flask, it keeps hot things hot and cold things cold. I bought it yesterday and am using it for the first time today’. ‘Oh that’s a great idea David, so what did you bring in it today?’ ‘Well’ replies David, ‘today I brought in it some coffee and some ice cream’
The difference between Mr. Beckham and my Tuesday is that while he would’ve managed to create some kind of coffee flavoured cream concoction, my gardening and meeting duties, as spectrally opposed in experience as coffee and ice cream, both co-exist in the same area and indeed are both required for the continued success of both. Both my gardening and meeting duties cohabitate in the ever more impressive entity that is Project Gateway.
As I have already stated juxtaposition is a good word. I remarked to Jonno just this week that I was pleased to have written juxtaposed in my journal. He replied that he was pleased with my word usage. It was a bonding moment for us both. The reason I wrote juxtaposed in my journal was in light of the daily work schedule it looks like I will be doing, and specifically the day I had on Tuesday (incidentally, the reason I like the word juxtaposition is far to complex and intellectually far reaching to even try to write down).
The first half of the day we went into the rural areas outside the city we’re in, Pietermaritzburg, and visited a crèche that Gateway supports. This was the first time we had really gone outside of the main city and into the communities and for the first time we saw the classic ‘Africa’. That is, dusty roads, mud houses, random animals wandering around and a lot of greenery. To be honest, the place we went wasn’t actually especially poor because Gateway had worked in the crèche for a number of years so it had toys and a garden and a toilet. We’re told that most crèches, like one we’re going to on Friday, likely won’t have lights or carpet, let alone any water, clothes, toys or windows. So I think that while this was something we all enjoyed seeing, it wasn’t the full on smack of true poverty. But at the same time it was a great chance to see the results of working here at Gateway.
While we were there we went for a classic stereotypical gender split. The girls headed inside to bring the colouring-in stuff we brought for the kids, while Jonno and I headed into the garden to plant the vegetables we had brought. As much as I’d have enjoyed playing with the kids, I much preferred being outside and getting my hands dirty (on the most literal level there is, the ‘fertilizer’ here isn’t the chemical form), and being able to look across the amazing view at all the little houses. It was hugely impressive to think that each of them had been hand-built but the Zulus who now lived there.
Equally impressive was the garden we worked in. Compared to most gardens and allotments I’ve seen in the UK, it was so well kept, with vegetables growing most places. And all that from the labour of one woman who ran the crèche. It was very inspiring. The worst part is when she was so thankful to us when we’d finished planting all our plants. It felt like a mother being genuinely and humbly grateful to the kid who came and put the cherry on top of her cake. Whilst it was just a nice thing for us to take a photo of us and the newly homed plants, part of me was thinking ‘what the hell are we doing commemorating our work?’
Oh and here’s a new lesson I learnt. Turns out it’s a bad idea to garden in the midday heat in Africa when you have flu. Jonno and I found out that apparently it’s quite conducive to feinting (ok so before you go mad at me in your head, I wasn’t that ill – Jonno was mind you – and we did get the girls in to help us finish off. At no point did we actually feint, I just had to stabilize a few times…).
So after that morning, which was one of the highlights of my time so far I think, we headed back to Gateway. Then came to moment of juxtaposition. If this were a film script I’d now write something like:
Just to clear up I’ve never read a film script so haven’t got the faintest whether that would actually appear in it.
So yeh, we came back to Gateway about 12.30pm and straight into 3 hours of meetings. Nice. Jonno and I are working centrally with some of our time in the department known as ‘Donor Marketing and Public Relations’, helpfully shortened to DMPR, and subtitled the ‘Try to find as much money as possible’ department. Jonno and I both felt we had skills to offer in this area so we walked into what is already looking like somewhat of a poison chalice. More on that in the blog entry after this one…
The first meeting was about…well to be honest I’ve not got a clue…thing about meetings is that unless you know what’s going on in them, it’s very hard to stay attentive despite best efforts. I’ve been in five hour meetings at the Met Police but they were fine, but this was only two hours yet I lost it after 20 mins. I imagine it is a lot like losing a yellow taxi in New York. Once you’ve taken you eye off the prize, you haven’t got an ice cube’s chance in hell of finding it again (ice cube’s chance in hell, I like that, I just wrote it now. I’m pretty good.)
Also I was more concerned about Jonno being semi-conscious next to me. He had flu big time and had done not much to stop working over the last two days, I had just caught it off him so I was on my way down, but at least I planned to halt my decline. AFTER the working day was over of course.
Anyways, as I sat in the meeting thinking about anything other than the content of said meeting, aside from the odd ‘oh Jonno and Phil can do that’ from my new boss Di, it very much struck me how crazy it was that this morning I was digging a garden for a crèche of orphaned kids, and now I was sat in a meeting about some very administrative and strategic issues.
There’s a joke about David Beckham, well actually it’s a old joke and someone’s applied it to David Beckham because they’re not clever enough to think of an original joke so they pick an easy target (I am unashamedly big fan of Mr. Beckham both for the footballer he is and the man, husband and father he genuinely appears to be). Anyways the joke goes like this:
‘David Beckham walks into training one day and one of his team mates says ‘oh hi David, look at this new flask I bought’, ‘oh what is it?’ replies David. ‘It’s called Thermos flask’ replies his team mate ‘it keeps hot things hot, and cold things cold’. ‘Wow that’s amazing’ gleams David, ‘I’m going to buy one of them myself after training today’. So the next day David comes in with his brand new Thermos flask. He goes up to one of his other team mates and goes ‘hey, look at this new flask I’ve got, it’s called a Thermos flask, it keeps hot things hot and cold things cold. I bought it yesterday and am using it for the first time today’. ‘Oh that’s a great idea David, so what did you bring in it today?’ ‘Well’ replies David, ‘today I brought in it some coffee and some ice cream’
The difference between Mr. Beckham and my Tuesday is that while he would’ve managed to create some kind of coffee flavoured cream concoction, my gardening and meeting duties, as spectrally opposed in experience as coffee and ice cream, both co-exist in the same area and indeed are both required for the continued success of both. Both my gardening and meeting duties cohabitate in the ever more impressive entity that is Project Gateway.
Thursday, 1 May 2008
23 on the 23rd Bonus Track
One of my superb friends rightly pointed out that I never updated what my friends were planning when I was banned from the room. I felt it only right in honour of my team here that I informed the wide world, through web-means, of what effort they went to.
I was taken back to the eating arena aka the kitchen and dining room, and they took me into our private team room and they had laid out a whole party table of hats and party bags and serviettes (how DO you spell that word??) and a present for me. And by my seat was a card from my parents which was awesome. Then they brought in a cake that they'd made. It was immense. They'd felt that two layers looked too small so they made four layers!
It turned out that they'd been planning it all since before we left England! All through that week they'd been creeping about buying food here and there and lying to me outright. It was comedy. For someone supposedly very perceptive I had failed to notice, amongst other things:
- the fact that they had left for shopping without me despite me wanting to go
- Jonno had faked a deep and meaningful conversation in order to stop me walking into the room in which they were making my cake
- walked blatant food stuffs for cake making past me without me even noticing
- the fact that everyone on site knew it was my birthday yet I'd told very few
There was also another comic event when I was looking through someone's camera photos and on it was some photos of the cake they'd made, I was two photos away from it when Hannah realised so told me to stop, and then Izzy made up some excuse that there were photos of her doing a cartwheel (which to be fair there were) but that she was embarrassed so didn't want me to see them. So I passed the camera back. Little did I know that at that point their pulses were through the roof!
I would also like to praise Jonno for his genius deception with the insitgation of a deep and meaningful chat about something he was finding hard, just when I told him I was about to go for a walk to a place the guys were cooking in. I was sold like a kipper and I sat there and shared some deep advice from my soul haha. Jonno claims he needed that chat anyway at some point, but he just seized the moment and brought it forward!
So yeh, that's what happened on my birthday!
I was taken back to the eating arena aka the kitchen and dining room, and they took me into our private team room and they had laid out a whole party table of hats and party bags and serviettes (how DO you spell that word??) and a present for me. And by my seat was a card from my parents which was awesome. Then they brought in a cake that they'd made. It was immense. They'd felt that two layers looked too small so they made four layers!
It turned out that they'd been planning it all since before we left England! All through that week they'd been creeping about buying food here and there and lying to me outright. It was comedy. For someone supposedly very perceptive I had failed to notice, amongst other things:
- the fact that they had left for shopping without me despite me wanting to go
- Jonno had faked a deep and meaningful conversation in order to stop me walking into the room in which they were making my cake
- walked blatant food stuffs for cake making past me without me even noticing
- the fact that everyone on site knew it was my birthday yet I'd told very few
There was also another comic event when I was looking through someone's camera photos and on it was some photos of the cake they'd made, I was two photos away from it when Hannah realised so told me to stop, and then Izzy made up some excuse that there were photos of her doing a cartwheel (which to be fair there were) but that she was embarrassed so didn't want me to see them. So I passed the camera back. Little did I know that at that point their pulses were through the roof!
I would also like to praise Jonno for his genius deception with the insitgation of a deep and meaningful chat about something he was finding hard, just when I told him I was about to go for a walk to a place the guys were cooking in. I was sold like a kipper and I sat there and shared some deep advice from my soul haha. Jonno claims he needed that chat anyway at some point, but he just seized the moment and brought it forward!
So yeh, that's what happened on my birthday!
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